Heat it Up: Off the Ice - Book One (5 page)

“Why did you guys stop coming?”

“There’s a spot.” She points at it. I wait for her to answer my question. When she doesn’t after a few seconds, I drop it—her message clear.

We climb out of the cramped rental car, and she leads me to the far side of the building, to the entrance with an “A” printed on the square light above the door.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if my grandmother’s watching us.”

I thread my fingers with Sofia’s. Despite the warm ambient temperature, her hand is cold. “Are you nervous?”

Her eyes snap to mine. “Why would you say that?” Her shaky voice is a giveaway to what I suspect she’s about to deny.

“You just seem nervous.” One side of my mouth slides up. “Have you never kissed a guy before?”

“Sure I have. Remember? I used to have a boyfriend.” She looks away.

I want to push the topic but this isn’t the best time for that. Not if we’re about to put on a performance worthy of a standing ovation.

Sofia doesn’t remove her hand from mine, at least not until we’re at the main entrance and she has to unlock the door.

We walk up the stairs to the first level. Unlike the apartment buildings I’m used to back home, this one is open in design. The stairs aren’t hidden in a dark stairwell. Windows run from the floor to the ceiling, and I mean the ceiling of the building, not just the floor above us. Even the smell is different. It’s a mix of pine, burning wood, and some sort of cleaner. It actually smells good.

Sofia leads me the short distance to the first apartment, which is around the corner. I look over the white railing to the ground floor.

“You ready?” she asks, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “Once we’re in, we can start kissing.” She gulps in a long breath and lets it out slowly. This is a first. No one has been scared to kiss me before. I’m not sure what to make of her reaction. Should I be officially scared, too?

Before she can change her mind—or I can change mine—she opens the door and pulls me in. I don’t even have time to register the hallway before her mouth is on mine. Since we haven’t established any ground rules for the kiss, I had no idea what to expect, and I hadn’t thought to ask. So I’m almost surprised when she parts her lips and lets me in.

Damn if her soft lips, and the way her tongue plays with mine, doesn’t send me over the edge. I thread my fingers through her silky hair, preventing her from escaping. My other hand makes itself at home on her hip. I’m drowning in the kiss. Drowning and wanting so much more. Drowning and never wanting it to end.

And for the first time I notice her scent, the sweet smell of apples that wraps around me. It’s not overwhelming and I allow myself to drown some more.

My hand on her hip slides to her lower back. I press her toward me so that we’re touching from head to toe. She moans against my mouth, sending electrifying vibrations through me. I don’t remember the last time since Gabby’s death that it felt this way when I kissed someone.

A polite cough intrudes on the moment and I silently curse Sofia’s grandmother. I pull away from Sofia, instantly missing her closeness, her touch.

Except it’s not the person I was expecting who interrupted us. It’s a guy who scowls at me like there’s nothing he wants more than to kick my ass. Next to him is a woman who I guess is Sofia’s grandmother. She’s not eyeing me in the same way the guy is, but it’s clear from the way the corners of her lips curve down that she’s not happy with what she just witnessed.

“
Hei
,” Sofia says. “Kyle, this is my grandmother…and Joni.” She wraps her arm around my waist and snuggles close, her head on my shoulder. My arms automatically envelop her.

“
Tämä on minun poikaystäväni
,” she says and I have no clue what it means. It goes well beyond my basic Finnish skills. All I know is that she didn’t ask for a beer.

The old woman speaks and the guy replies, both in Finnish. Whatever they’re saying is lost on me, but Sofia stiffens in my arm. Neither of them is happy to see me, that’s for sure.

“What are they saying?” I ask her as Joni continues talking to the woman.

“I have no idea. Like I said, my Finnish sucks. It’s a miracle I could tell them you’re my boyfriend. Or I might have told them you’re a zombie. I’m not sure.”

Joni looks at us. “How come you never mentioned him before?” he asks.

She didn’t think this one through, and neither did I.

Sofia doesn’t respond so I jump in. “We broke up before we came here because…because of a misunderstanding. I’m coaching hockey in Helsinki this summer, and we bumped into each other in town.”

Joni narrows his eyes. Whatever I said was the wrong thing to say.

“So this is the reason you don’t believe in love?” he asks her.

Sofia tenses. Not enough to be noticed by anyone else, but enough for me to feel it with her body tucked against mine. “Um…no. That was due to my previous boyfriend. Kyle and I aren’t in love,” she rushes to add, squirming against me. Lying is something that clearly doesn’t come naturally to her.

She turns to me. “Thanks…thanks for driving me home.”

Joni’s eyebrow goes up and I inwardly cringe at her mistake. If I was her boyfriend, she wouldn’t be thanking me as if I were a colleague who had given her a ride home.

I pull her closer and do my best not to smirk at him. “I missed you.” I kiss her cheek and breathe in her apple scent. “I didn’t want to be apart from you longer than necessary. And if I could steal you away, I’d take you back to my apartment and make love to you all night.” I make sure I say it loud enough for Joni to hear.

Sofia’s face reddens and I grin. I’m not sure what’s more fun: teasing her or tormenting him.

I kiss her gently on the lips and linger there for a long heartbeat before pulling away. Her eyes are still shut and I can tell I’m affecting her like she’s affecting me. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but for now I don’t care.

She reopens her eyes as her grandmother speaks. Joni replies in Finnish. I have a feeling he’s not translating what I told Sofia.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I lean in so only she can hear the next part. “I’ll meet you at the same spot and at the same time as today.”

All she can do is nod. I’m definitely getting to her.

Before she can change her mind about hanging out with me, I say goodbye and leave.

Usually after I kiss a girl, I don’t dwell on it. I’ve kissed so many girls in the past year, they’ve all blended into one. But on the drive back to Helsinki, all I can think about is the kiss I shared with Sofia—and how I want to kiss her again.

Nik isn’t at the rink when I arrive the following morning. He left a note in our kitchen, explaining that he would be late today. That’s okay. The summer camp isn’t just about helping the kids with their hockey skills. Conditioning is a huge part of it, too.

“Okay, guys,” I say to the group of fifteen-year-olds in the locker room. “Coach Tikkanen is going to be late. So you’re stuck with me for this morning’s drills. Grab your sneakers and join me on the soccer field.”

The boys scramble to their lockers to retrieve their shoes and head outside.

“What is it like playing in the NHL?” Kai, one of the group’s more talented players, asks as we walk. From what I’ve seen of him so far, he has a great chance of making it to the NHL if he keeps up the hard work.

“Tough and a lot of work,” I say. “But it’s worth the sacrifices to get there—if you’re smart about it and dedicated.”

“What about the girls?” Mikko asks, his English a little slower than Kai’s.

“You mean the female hockey players?” Or the puck bunnies?

“The girls who want to be with hockey players.” His eyebrows do a comical dance to get his point across.

“They’re there too. But you guys are too young to worry about them.”

From the way Mikko is grinning, it’s obvious the last thing he’s worried about is the puck bunnies. He’s looking forward to them.

As I contemplate what my position entails when it comes to sex-ed and warning the boys about the dangers of puck bunnies, I push the arena door open and let the guys out. If they were seventeen years old, I’d discuss the pros and cons of “relationships” with these types of hockey fans. But as is, I don’t need parents with pitchforks coming after me for stepping over any boundaries.

The temperature is crisp outside. Perfect for what we’re about to do. I indicate to the boys carrying the equipment to put the tote boxes on the sidelines. No one else is on the field yet.

“Warm up first,” I say. “Two laps around the field.”

For a minute, I watch them run. My entire body twitches for me to join them. I want to so badly, but I have plans this afternoon that don’t involve the sauna. Plans that don’t involve my fucked-up leg causing me problems.

Just one lap
, a voice in the back of my head demands. But what’s the point of running only one lap if the boys have to do two? It makes me appear out of shape, which I’m not. Even before the physician gave me the okay after the accident to start physical therapy, I’d pushed myself hard. Anything to get me back on the ice again as quickly as possible. But it hadn’t been enough for me to return to the Bears or to any other NHL team. No one wants a player with a bummed leg.

To distract myself from the need to run with the boys, I lay out the equipment for the first drill. I can always hit the gym after my afternoon with Sofia and use the stationary bike. My leg can handle it better than running anyway.

The first boys to finish the laps stop in front of the equipment. Once everyone is here, I give them a few minutes to get stretched out.

“We’ve been working on balance for the past few days, and now you’re ready for something more advanced.” I place my left foot on my right calf, and bounce the ping-bong ball on the paddle, keeping the bounces small and controlled. I continue until I’ve bounced the ball twenty times. Not once do I drop it.

I lower my foot. “I want you to start with ten bounces. You can work up to more as you get better at it. Then switch legs.” Fortunately, no one asks me to demonstrate the skill with my left leg. I’m nowhere near as impressive with that leg. Nothing like I used to be before the accident.

I walk around the group as they attempt the exercise. Mikko sends the ball up high, but his paddle tilts slightly and the flight path of his ball is altered. He can’t reach it in enough time, and it falls to the grass. “Keep the bounces small,” I remind them. “You aren’t trying to knock the moon out of the sky.”

Several boys snicker and lose control of their balls. A few curses are muttered in Finnish. I recognize them from when Nik first played with the Bears. Now he swears in English like the rest of us.

Once they’ve finished the drill, I teach them two others. “Whenever you have a spare moment,” I tell them, “you should practice the drills. Alone they won’t improve your skills, but balance, agility, coordination, reaction time, and speed are all important to your overall performance.”

Nik still isn’t here, so I have the boys move onto the agility part of our dryland training. “Do you guys know what the crab walk is?”

They exchange looks. I’m sure they know what it is. They just aren’t familiar with the English word for it. I demonstrate what I want them to do. While they crab walk to the pylons, I let my thoughts drift to Sofia and the kiss. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it. It was all I could think about last night.

The question is will I get to kiss her again? She made it clear yesterday that she doesn’t want a boyfriend and she doesn’t believe in love. She also made it clear that she isn’t interested in dating casually. Which means she doesn’t view our time together as anything other than hanging out as friends. Now I have to convince her that kissing me again is a good idea, even if we are just friends.

The boys return to the start line, performing the crab walk backwards. By the time Nik shows up, the boys have done leapfrog, the wheelbarrow, and several other drills to work on their agility.

“Miss me?” Even though he sounds amused, he looks tired. All those puck bunnies he’s been hooking up with are wearing him out.

Smirking, I slap him on the back. “Absolutely. I don’t know how I survived without you.”

The boys return to the sideline as they complete the final drill. Nik and I have them each grab two yo-yos from the tote. Last week, the boys worked on their coordination by using two yo-yos simultaneously, one in each hand. They start first with that drill.

“I won’t be going to the gym with you after work,” I tell Nik, keeping things vague. The last thing I want to mention is Sofia. Yesterday morning, he pointed out that he wanted to tap her. Not that he’s seen her since the sauna incidence.

He simply nods, his attention focused on the boys.

I’m impressed at how far they’ve come since last week. They’ve obviously been practicing in their free time.

Nik and I demonstrate the next drill. We both take a yo-yo and I grab a tennis ball. We get the yo-yos going and toss the ball between us. We’re not trying to screw each other up. It also means I need to focus on the ball and not on yesterday’s kiss.

But tell that to my brain.

I’ve practiced this skill numerous times with Cody since the accident, helping him improve his coordination. And several of those times I’d fucked girls just before meeting up with him. But this is the first time I’ve had a pair of luscious lips on the brain while doing the drill. Reciting Newton’s laws of motion won’t help me now.

I’m not the only one who’s distracted. Nik doesn’t seem to be anymore mentally here than I am. He tosses the ball to me but it misses his intended target by a couple of feet and I dive to grab it.

Call it testosterone and competitive stupidity.

My bad leg impacts with the hard ground and a grunt jerks from my throat. Pain shoots up my leg and I groan. I lie still for several seconds, the pain temporarily paralyzing me.

Nik crouches beside me. “You okay?”

Nodding, I push myself up. While Nik gets the boys moving on the drill, I excuse myself and limp to the locker room to grab some over-the-counter pain meds. The entire way, I curse my leg and the drunk asshole for screwing things up for me.