Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One (30 page)

While my fingers explore his back, his explore another part of me. The mere touch of his fingers against the aching throb is enough to set off a small round of fireworks. It’s as if my body has been in a half-aroused state all weekend and his touch, his taste, his scent are all that was needed for me to ignite.

There’s something I want to try, but I’m not sure how to bring it up. Kyle knew what I wanted to do last time without me having to say it, but this time I won’t get so lucky. I open my mouth to speak, but the words are stilled on my tongue as he pushes my legs apart and his tongue sets off another round of fireworks.

“Christ, you’re so goddamn hot.” His equally hot breath blows against the aching throb as a finger slips inside me. It presses against me and another finger joins it.

His fingers don’t move, other than to apply pressure while his tongue continues its sweet torment. Once he’s close to bringing me to the brink of the abyss, he pulls away and kisses his way up my stomach.

Inch by slow inch, he makes me feel so desirable, I swear I’m about to explode from the intensity of it. But it also gives me the strength to be in charge for once, to let him know what I want.

I push myself up, forcing Kyle to sit, confusion on his face. He thinks I’ve changed my mind and I don’t want to have sex after all. I swirl my thumb against his tip, my eyes locked on his. Then I run my hand down his length and give it a light squeeze. The combination of lust, pride, need in his eyes sends a power-filled shudder through me. If there’s ever been a moment when I’ve felt incredibly sensual, this is it.

Kyle doesn’t move, as if sensing I want to take the lead on this. His half smile radiates pride at the person I’ve become in the last two months. I open his night-table drawer, and remove a foil package. Carefully, I rip it open, confidence bubbling inside me. No matter what I do, Kyle isn’t judging me. He’s encouraging me with each sound he makes, with each look of utter joy.

I roll the condom onto him, straddle his hips, and lower myself so his tip presses against my entrance. Then I slowly slide my body down the length of him, taking him deep.

Kyle releases a sound that is part groan, part my name. We keep our gazes focused on each other, nothing else in the world existing, and I move along him. He grabs hold of my hips and helps set the pace. I want to kiss him but I don’t want to tear my gaze from his. The fire in his eyes is pushing me closer to the edge and I don’t want to risk stumbling back and lose this incredible feeling. I’m so close, but I do hold back, not wanting to go over before Kyle is ready.

“Let go, Sofia,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back for me.”

Just hearing him say those words proves to be too much and I clench around him, screaming out. For a brief moment, I stop moving as I regain my senses. But then I remember I’m not on this journey alone and move against him again. Every nerve fiber in my body is on heightened alert. It doesn’t take long before the fire consumes me once more, only this time Kyle joins me.

He squeezes his eyes shut and I watch as a mix of pain and bliss washes over his expression. “Oh, God, Sofia.” The sound is guttural, erotic. I can’t help myself. I kiss him, long and hard, even though he probably wants nothing more than to collapse on the bed.

His hands travel up my back. One hand holds me tight against him, the other tangles in my hair. We kiss for a good minute or so before we drop to the bed, with Kyle still in me.

“I don’t want to move,” he murmurs in my ear. “I want to stay like this forever.”

“Sounds good to me,” I murmur back, one leg wrapped around his hip. But we can’t stay this way forever, as nice as it might sound.

Kyle rolls off me and disposes of the condom before joining me back in bed. We cuddle close, Kyle on his back, me half slung across him. His heat and delicious scent blankets me. Leaves me drowsy. The caressing circles his fingers draw on my back don’t help either.

I inhale a long slow breath. Maybe this isn’t the best time for what I have planned, but after what happened between us—the connection. The honesty. The trust—it’s time we talk.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Anything.” His voice is as drowsy as I feel.

“What’s gonna happen to us once the summer’s over?” I brace for any sign that what we have will end once we leave.

It doesn’t happen. He tightens his hold on me. “I was hoping you’ll be my girlfriend. For real—even if it’s long distance for a while.”

“But you’re struggling with so much, and until you trust me with what you’re going through, there’ll always be a wall between us. And it won’t go away if you’re living in Seattle and I’m living in Minneapolis.” Or Finland for the year.

His hold on me loosens and his runs his hand over his face. I’ve lost him. I pushed too hard and instead of him being ready to let me in and help him, he’s pushing me away. Part of me screams out to beg him to ignore what I said. That I’m willing to accept whatever he can give me, even if it ends once he leaves Helsinki. But the rest of me warns not to be an idiot. Ian’s and my relationship was a mess because he wasn’t honest with me. I need Kyle to be honest with me.

“I told you I was in an accident last year.”

I nod even though he can’t see me. Turning to my side, I take in his pained expression.

“My wife and I were driving home from a party and a fucking drunk driver didn’t stop at the red light. He hit my car and killed Gabby.” His tone is a wreckage of anger. My insides tighten at his words as a memory leaks to the surface.

“When was this?” I whisper.

“A year ago last May,” he says, and my insides tighten so much, I can barely breathe. “The asshole and his girlfriend also died in the accident.”

Tears cloud my vision but Kyle is too busy glaring at the ceiling to notice.

“I used to play hockey with the Minnesota Bears. I had a promising future until the fucking asshole took it away from me.”

“Sofia,” Mom had said through my bedroom door the morning after the party. She’d been in bed when I finally came home after crying for hours in a playground not far from our house. “I need to talk to you.”

I wiped my cheeks dry and sat up. Whenever she told me, “I need to talk to you,” it was never good news. “Okay.”

She opened the door and hesitantly stepped in. Her gaze settled on the corkboard that was once filled with photos of me and Ian, as well as photos of my family and friends. Yesterday morning you would have been hard pressed to find patches of cork peeking between the photos. Now half the board was empty, Ian’s pictures crowding the trashcan.

She sat next to me on the bed. “Ian’s mom just called.”

Great, Ian’s mom knows what happened and phoned to say she was sorry.
The image of Ian’s tongue down the blonde’s throat crashed into my head, and I almost doubled over in pain. “Ian was in a car accident last night.” She kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry, Sofia. He didn’t make it.”

Kyle is so lost in thought about the accident, he doesn’t notice I’m dying inside. In the end, it doesn’t matter if he’s moving away or if I stay in Finland for the year, that’s not what will destroy what we shared between us.

I choke back the sob building in me. I should leave. I should find some excuse and go back to Muumu’s apartment and try to forget the last year ever happened, try to forget this summer happened. But I can’t.

So I stay and watch a movie with him. Stay and pretend everything is all right. And when I can no longer keep pretending, I peel my body away from his. “I should go back home and make sure Muumu is okay.”

Kyle nods and pushes himself off the couch. “I’ll drive you.”

I give him a quick kiss. “You can just drop me off at the bus station.” I need to talk to Claire, and I’d rather not do that at home.

I give him the best smile I can muster, which must have been convincing enough because he smiles back. The sight of it breaks my heart and I can barely hold back a sob.

In Norse Mythology, there are female beings known as the Norns. Like with the Fates of Greek Mythology, they determine the future. It’s also believed in Norse Mythology that along with the three main Norns, there are many lesser known ones. Some cause all the tragedies in the world, some protect us.

But in my case, they’re sitting somewhere having a good laugh at my expense.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Kyle says as he pulls up to the central bus station in Helsinki.

“No, this is good.”

He parks the car in front of the terminal, in the passenger unloading zone, and leans in to kiss me.

I pour every emotion storming inside me into the kiss, wishing it’s enough to take away all the pain Ian caused Kyle. Wishing it’s enough to turn back time so that somehow I can change the past, even if it means I never would have met him. Even if it means Gabby would be the one making love to him instead of me.

But no amount of kissing or wishing will make it come true.

Breathless, I pull away. “I’ll talk to you later.” I scramble out of the car before he can say anything, and crutch my way to my bus stop.

My bus isn’t here yet. I sit down on a bench and call Claire as Kyle’s car pulls away.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asks.

An elderly woman walks up to my bench and I move my crutches so she can sit next to me. The benches on either side are occupied with teens talking and texting. “I need you to look up something for me.”

“Sure what?”

“The victims of Ian’s accident. Did the media release their names?”

“I think so. Give me a second and I’ll tell you.”

It takes more than a few seconds. While I wait, I listen to the muffled sounds of whatever dance song is playing in the background.

“Here it is. They did release the names.”

“What were they?”

“Ian, of course. The two other dead victims were Samantha Green and Gabriella Bennett.” A chill creeps through me at the second name.

“What about the survivor? What was his name?”

Silence hangs over me for what feels like an hour before she whispers, “Oh my God.”

“What?” I ask even though I know what she’s going to say.

“Morris Handover, general manager of the Minnesota Bears, has confirmed that right wing Kyle Bennett is listed in serious condition.”

I close my eyes, and what’s left of my world that hasn’t already crashed in on me does so now. Kyle lost everything because of Ian. His wife. His beloved hockey. His life, so to speak. Everything.

I sniff, and work hard to keep the sob hovering near the surface from breaking loose. I want to say something, anything, but the words are unable to form. I can only stare at the dried piece of gum on the ground a few feet ahead of me.

“Kyle Bennett,” Claire says. “That’s your Kyle, isn’t it?”

I nod even though she can’t see me.

“Sofia?”

“Yes, that’s him.” My voice comes out as a cracked whisper.

“Does he know Ian was your ex-boyfriend?”

I let my head drop forward, the weight of the truth too heavy for it. “He knows my ex cheated on me, but I never told him anything more than that.”

“Are you going to tell him?” she asks, the sound of her voice a warm hug from a million miles away.

“I can’t,” I choke back. “He’ll hate me.”

“Why? It was Ian who hit him. You weren’t even in the vehicle.”

My ribcage feels like it’s trapped in a vice, and someone is slowly tightening it, preventing air from entering my lungs. Crushing my heart in the process.

My bus pulls up to the stop. “I have to go. My bus is here.” I hang up before she can say anything else, and I wipe away the tears, grateful that the elderly woman next to me probably didn’t understand a word I said to Claire.

But I don’t get on the bus.

I phone Maija and ten minutes later she pulls up in front of the bus stop. I never told her what was wrong. She’d heard it in my voice that I’m an emotional train wreck.

I climb into her car. “
Hei
.”

“No one is at my place. Why don’t we go there, eat lots of ice cream, and you can tell me what happened?”

All I have the energy to do is nod.

At her parent’s apartment, we flop down on the couch, each with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and cloudberry sauce. We don’t talk about what’s upsetting me at first. But eventually, after the last of the ice cream and sauce has been licked clean, I open up and tell her everything.

Until now, I’ve been doing a good job keeping the crying to just a stray tear or two. But the memories of Kyle’s scars, of all the times the pain in his leg became too much and he was reduced to limping, of his struggle with drinking, of the dog tag from his wife overwhelm me, and the sob I’ve been holding back bursts free. I cover my face with my hand and don’t bother to try stopping it. Maija hugs me.

I cry for a good five minutes…or maybe even longer. Maija strokes my hair as she tells me it will be okay. Everything will be all right.

“I’m sorry,” I finally say, scrubbing my fingers under my eyes to remove any traces of makeup that transferred there during my sob fest. God, I must resemble a natural disaster times two.

“You love him, don’t you?” She doesn’t sound too surprised.

“I need to go,” I murmur, more to myself than to Maija. She’s right. I do love Kyle, which is why this is so hard.

Maija puts her hand on my arm. “You don’t need to go yet. Stay. Just a little longer.”

“No, I need to go.”

She hugs me again. “Okay, I’ll drive you.”

I shake my head. “No, I mean I need to go somewhere that isn’t here. I need to figure out what I should do. I have to figure out if I should stay in Vantaa”—And be haunted by the memories of Kyle and what could have been—“or return home.”

And be haunted by the same and so much more.

It’s been forty-three hours and still no word from Sofia. She never called me after I dropped her off at the bus station the other night. I’ve sent her several texts and voice messages. Those all went unanswered. What the hell’s going on? Shit, if something’s happened to her or her grandmother, I doubt Joni would bother to track me down and tell me.