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Authors: Katie Kenyhercz

Home Ice (17 page)

BOOK: Home Ice
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“What?”

“Oh, honey. I know you’re upset because you’re feelin’ like apples and oranges with this guy, but the truth is you grew on the same tree.”

Lori blinked. “You’re saying I’m as bad as he is.”

“You are not bad except in terms of getting down with your bad self, ’cause you got groove, baby. But you’re not bad for being you, and he’s not bad for being him. It’s just part of the way you grew up.” Margo hit the pause button on the music and strutted off stage in her platform glitter heels to sit beside Lori.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to pretend to know it all, because I’m sure as hell not a professional athlete unless you count on the dance floor. But I bet it took a lot of work, dedication, and determination to get where you both are. You know another word for determined? Stubborn. You needed to be. And competing like you do can give a person some sharp edges.”

Hadn’t she said something like that to Dylan? It applied to her, too. Being the best and having people
tell
you you’re the best sank in even if you didn’t mean for it to. How often did she assume she was right? More than she cared to admit. Wasn’t it stubbornness that refused Dylan’s help in the first place? Sure, the points she’d raised were real. She didn’t want an unbalanced relationship. Didn’t want to mix business and pleasure. But really … she didn’t want to believe she needed anyone for something like that.

“Chin up, buttercup. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m just saying before you take it out on him, be sure that he’s the one you’re upset with. Should he have listened to you and respected your wishes? Absolutely. But from what you’ve said, seeing you about to lose your dream made him lose his mind a little bit. He couldn’t bear to see you unhappy. There are worse crimes.”

“You think I should cut him some slack.”

“That’s up to you. But I think his heart was in the right place.” Margo twirled a long, honey blonde tendril from her fabulous wig.

Hearing that from an objective outsider lifted a huge weight. Lori nodded, and the hint of a smile twitched at her lips for the first time in days. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your rehearsal. I know you need to get ready for tonight.”

“I was born ready. I just like to practice extra to get it perfect. I know you understand.”

“You could say that.”

“Mmm-hmm. Hey, I know what’ll cheer you up. Why don’t you do a number? In celebration of losing that last crutch. Stage is all yours, and it’s just us here until six. You like Christina? I got the perfect track for you.” Margo didn’t wait for an answer. She hopped up the steps, lowered the mic stand center stage, and curled a beckoning diamond talon.

Lori considered begging off, but only for a fraction of a second, because Margo’s no-nonsense look held serious power. Resigned but a little excited, she hobbled up slowly and steadily in her walking cast. No sooner did she reach the mic when “Come On Over Baby” start playing, and she laughed. It’d been a popular song around the rink fifteen years ago, and the bouncy lyrics were burned in her brain.

She started out singing softly, but Margo snapped her fingers and shook her head until Lori belted it out, holding nothing back. Even in an empty auditorium, there was an undeniable thrill, and while it felt ridiculous dancing with a bulky cast that looked like a robot leg, she couldn’t help swinging her hips and giving her best come hither moves as she pictured Dylan in the audience.

Margo danced in the wings, getting into the song, completely unselfconscious and clapping to the beat. “Yeah, baby!”

Lori grinned so hard her cheeks hurt but kept singing. There was no pressure, no anxiety, only joy. It bubbled through her, offering as much confidence as she had on the ice. Whether or not Margo was just trying to make her feel better, the enthusiasm was contagious. It was the boost she needed to make her decision.

Spending the holiday with the hockey team. How bad could it be?

Chapter Thirty-one

Thursday, November 27th

The noise level in Madden’s house could rival a packed arena just before a show started. She’d never been a shrinking violet in her whole life, but suddenly, Lori wanted to blend into the background. Hockey players, their significant others, and Sinners staff filled the large mansion, not to mention a blonde toddler wobbling around, yelling “Unca Maddie!” and holding onto the pant legs of people he passed while a laughing redheaded woman chased after him. There was the prevailing feeling of
family
, or what family was supposed to be like.

These people loved each other—truly enjoyed being together. Her family hadn’t been like that since she was a little girl. Before figure skating took over not just her life, but her mother’s, too. All that time traveling for competitions, scrimping and saving so she could keep dreaming had taken a toll. Her parents denied it, of course, but it was plain to see. Every time she went home, they seemed more like roommates than spouses, and her sister couldn’t wait to leave for college. Lori had visited less and less over the years, claiming a hectic training schedule, when really, it was just depressing. Limiting contact to phone calls made it easier to pretend things were different. That it wasn’t all her fault.

But this burst of life and love hit her hard and instead of filling her up, left her empty. Then Dylan took her hand and led her through the crowd. He laced his fingers with hers and squeezed, as if he knew how much she needed to be grounded in that moment. A jolt of warmth pushed back the emptiness.

She followed him to the kitchen, where a buffet had been set up on the island.

“Hey everyone. You know Lori?”

A chorus of “Hi, Lori,” went around the room, and she smiled in response.

Madden came forward and set a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, I’m so glad you could make it. I know it means a lot to the kid here.” Meaning Dylan, who smirked at the nickname but didn’t deny how much he was enjoying her presence.

“Thank you for having me. My family doesn’t really do much for the holidays. You have an amazing house.”

“Ah, gotta thank the old man for that one. And my sister, who graciously let me have it to myself after she got married. Have you met Jace? My nephew just started walking, so she’s around here somewhere keeping a tether on him.”

“I think I saw them. He’s adorable.”

“Takes after his uncle. Just kidding. That kid is all Jace and Carter, who is also around here somewhere. He was captain of the Sinners before this guy took over.” Madden bopped Dylan’s arm and winked. “Well I’ll let you guys get some grub. I have a girlfriend to find.” He waved then disappeared around the corner.

“I like him.”

Dylan laughed. “Yeah. He has that effect on people.”

Lori took a plate and pushed it down the counter, adding helpings of different things as she went. “You jealous?” She shot a teasing look over her shoulder.

“As long as you like me more, I’m good.” He followed behind her, making his own plate. By the time they got to the end of the line, his food was piled a foot high.

“Whoa.”

“Don’t judge. I have to take in more calories than I burn. And with a coach like Neals, that means I require mountains of food.”

“No judgment here. Just admiration.” She bit back a smile and balanced her plate on one hand, maneuvering into the dining room, where a massive table ran its length and seated at least thirty. She took an empty chair near one end, and Dylan sat beside her. She lowered her voice and leaned close to him. “So … is it okay to eat, or are we waiting for everybody?”

Before he could answer, Madden came in, followed by a wave of other people including Saralynn, the redhead—Jace?—with her son, and a man who must be Carter, because the boy looked like a miniature version of him. Everyone sat but Madden, who stood at the far end of the table. “Thank you guys for coming. I’m glad we could have this dinner for those who couldn’t get home to be with their families and for the Canadians, who had their Thanksgiving last month but didn’t get to celebrate. Cole, I’m lookin’ at you. I know you live for the days you get to eat your weight in meat and carbs.”

Dylan saluted everyone, and they laughed and clapped.

Madden lifted his voice again. “I’m especially grateful to have a certain Olympic star with us today. Lori, I’ve never seen Cole happier than he’s been these last couple of months, and they haven’t been easy months, so that says a lot about you. We’re glad to have you here.”

All along the table, heads turned toward her, every face smiling and welcoming. A knot in her throat made it hard to swallow, and tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she blinked them away. This kind of unquestioned acceptance and kindness was overwhelming, especially because she hadn’t even known how much she craved it. She managed to nod, hopefully showing the grace she felt.

Dylan slid his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple, taking some of the weight of the room’s focus and loosening the ball of tension in her chest.

“All right, dig in!” Madden took his seat, and quiet conversations rose as people started to eat.

For the first time all year, she felt hopeful. She was in a room full of genuinely nice people who asked about her life with honest interest and lacked that predatory glint in their eyes she’d become so used to. The man beside her did everything he could for her, and even if he went too far sometimes, he meant well. And her physical therapy would start the following week. If she could get back on her feet, and more important, back on the ice, everything else would fall into place. Things were looking up.

Chapter Thirty-two

Saturday, November 29th

“Kid, you look like the Joker.”

Dylan side-eyed Reese as he laced up his skates in the Arizona locker room. “From
Batman
? That’s harsh. I think my makeup looks very natural.”

Reese snickered. “No, dude. I mean the smile. It’s permanently on your face. I take it things are going well with Lori?”

“I don’t wanna jinx it, but yeah. I screwed up last week. I’m sure Saralynn told you about the sponsor thing. And I know you saw videos of me at the dance.”

“The entire world has seen those videos. I’ve seen seaweed dance better than you. It’ll be a long time before you live that down. And yeah, I heard about your secret project. Which I’m guessing isn’t a secret anymore.”

“No. Of course Lori put it together. I don’t know what I was thinking. I shouldn’t have done it. I mean, go behind her back about it. She said she thinks I have a hero complex. That I think it’s my job to save everyone. But it’s hard to really regret what I did, because she does have a sponsor now, and she can keep going.”

“Thanks to you.”

“Well … yeah.”

Reese raised his brows and pursed his lips while he taped his pads.

“What?”

“She might be right about the hero complex. But it’s not totally your fault. I mean, how many times a day do you hear we’re all depending on you? And probably you’ve heard that on every team you’ve ever been on. Be hard not to let that leak into other areas of your life. You gotta be careful though. She’s right. You can’t look at your girl like she’s something you need to fix. And for the record, you don’t need to save us either. If we can’t win together, that’s not on you.”

Why was that so hard to accept? It wasn’t that he wanted to fix Lori. She wasn’t broken. He’d just seen a problem in her life that he could take care of. Wasn’t that a good thing? Weren’t couples supposed to help each other? Doing it in secret had backfired, but … hadn’t it still worked out? As for his team, whether it was ego or observation, it didn’t seem like they could win if his head wasn’t in the game. His slump had cost them all. Wasn’t that proof? But saying that out loud made him feel like an asshole, so he kept it to himself.

The announcer’s “Are you readyyyyyy?” echoed from down the tunnel, cueing them to line up. He took his spot to the side, patting each player on the back as they passed. When Reese went by, they touched helmets. Before Dylan followed his brothers, Nealy winked at him. “Come on, kid. Get out there and show them what talent really looks like.” She’d meant to bolster him, but it just gave him another shot of creeping doubt. He’d been on fire the last few games, and the occasional compliments hadn’t done any damage. But after his talk with Reese and the nagging feeling that securing a win
was
his job, Nealy’s comment hit home.

Playing away was a double-edged sword. If he was
on
, it was a rush to show off in front of another team’s fans. If it was a bad night, things only got worse with an arena’s worth of booing and taunting. After playing seriously for more than half his life, it shouldn’t get to him, and on most nights it didn’t. This didn’t feel like most nights.
God, not again
.

He took the face-off to start the game, and as loud as it had to be, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his ears. The puck dropped, and he was a second too late. He darted to the side, trying to catch up, but that small delay set him back, and no matter how fast he moved, he was always a step behind. The hockey vision he was known for, the ability to see a play before it happened, shorted out and left him blind. The whole first period continued like that, and on his shifts, the Coyotes scored twice.

In the locker room, no one said anything to him or even looked at him, but they all had to be thinking the same thing: His slump was back, and they were screwed. If Reese was right, if they should be able to win without him, then what was happening out there? Nealy trailed them, but when she stepped into the room, all movement ceased, as if they were preparing to wait out the storm. They weren’t disappointed.

“What the hell was that? We’ve been unstoppable for weeks, and all of a sudden we get what should be an easy win, and you guys are playing like you’ve never skated before. I don’t know how many other ways I can say this. There are twenty-three people on this team. Not one. Stop waiting for someone else to step up.
You
do it. I want to see clean, tape-to-tape passes, and
look
first. Hint? Don’t give the puck to someone in a maroon sweater. Pay attention. Black and green on everyone here, right? Why is that so damn hard to remember? When you get back out there, I don’t just want you to even the score. I want you to dominate and decimate. Anyone need a dictionary?”

BOOK: Home Ice
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