Hard Lines & Goal Lines (Fast Ice Book 2)

by Stephanie Julian

  “Gabby. You still with me?”

  Was she? Sure, physically, she was fine. Except for her racing heart and starving lungs. And the ache in the pit of her stomach.

  “Yes. I don’t…I mean—” She sucked in a quick breath. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

  One side of his mouth quirked up in an endearing grin. “I’m perfectly okay in this spot. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”

  Me neither.

  She couldn’t get the words to form on her tongue because admitting it aloud would cross a line she wasn’t sure she should cross. At least, not yet.

  “I think…we need to slow down.”

  He didn’t look surprised or upset, which she took as a good sign. Her brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. Unlike her hormones, which were blasting off like fireworks.

  “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

  Hell, she didn’t know what she wanted. Which wasn’t entirely true. She knew she wanted him. She also knew if she had him, she may not want to give him up. And that would open a whole other can of worms.

  Of course, the way she was straddling his lap right now, there was no easy way to extricate herself. It was going to be awkward—

  Pushing his hands beneath her arms, Tim lifted her and set her beside him, as if she weighed no more than an equipment bag. Okay, one problem solved. About a million more to go.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Tim’s question made her realize she was smiling.

  “Nothing.” She turned to look at him, her smile widening when she found him grinning back. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because you don’t have a clue what to do about this. About us. And it makes you crazy, doesn’t it?”

  Damn. She had to remember that Tim wasn’t just another guy she could walk all over. He knew her. And he was much more intuitive than people gave him credit for. She knew a lot of people underestimated athletes. The whole dumb-jock stereotype and all that. But these guys didn’t get to this level of play without being sharp. Without being able to read their opponents.

  Before she could respond, he reached over and ran his thumb along her jaw, stoking that fire in her gut.

  “You can’t control every aspect of your life, Gabby. Sometimes, things just have to happen.”

  Her mouth twisted. “Usually when things just happen, they’re not very good things.”

  Chaos wasn’t good on the ice or off.

  His thumb on her skin was creating all sorts of havoc deep in her body.

  “Sometimes, yeah. But this… This isn’t a bad thing.”

  It certainly didn’t feel bad. She wanted to lean back into him and let him kiss her. Instead, she clenched her hands into fists on her thighs and leaned back just slightly.

  “If we’re going to do this, we need to think it through. Because this could get really messy.”

  He nodded, just a tilt of his chin. “You want to keep this between us? I’m fine with that. For now. I’m not unreasonable. I get that there are issues here. But Gabby? I’m not giving up now.”

  Another rush of heat, this one sizzling along all her nerve endings. “Okay. But…we need to take this slow. You’re going to need to give me some space. We can’t just rush ahead like teenagers.”

  “Fine. But I don’t want you to run scared. Okay? We’ll figure this out.”

  Her smile widened, and for the first time today, she felt like her life wasn’t spiraling out of control.

  “Okay. I think…I can do that.”

  Five

  “Sunny, I got your message. What’s up?”

  Tim heard his younger sister suck in a deep breath then release it on a heavy sigh. The sound came through loud and clear on the phone, along with the emotion behind it. His gut seized. He knew exactly what that sigh meant.

  His goddamn father. What the hell had he done now?

  “Hey, Timmy, thanks for calling back. I’m really sorry to have to bother you, but—”

  “Stop. You know you’re not bothering me. Not ever. What’s wrong?”

  Because something was definitely wrong. Otherwise, Sunny wouldn’t have called during the week. He always called home Sunday morning at ten a.m. from no matter where he was. So if Sunny was calling now…

  She paused long enough to make him want to reach through the phone and pull her in for a hug. The worry in her voice made his heart hurt.

  Shit. This was going to be bad.

  Fifteen minutes ago, he’d taken a shower after being on the ice for a three-hour practice this morning. After he’d toweled off and pulled on clothes, he’d noticed the blinking light on his phone. It only blinked when he had a voice message. Most everyone he knew texted him if they wanted to talk to him.

  But then he’d seen Sunny’s number in the missed-call list. He’d dialed into his voice mailbox, phone clenched in his hand.

  “Timmy, hey, it’s me. I know you’re really busy right now, but… Could you give me a call? I need to talk to you. If you can, call me back when you get this. Thanks. Love you.”

  He’d hoped the message would be from Gabby. After last night, when they’d made out like two teenagers in heat, he’d thought maybe she’d call. Just to talk. You know, like adults.

  He’d told Gabby he’d give her space, but damn it, he was afraid if he gave her too much space, she’d shut down and shut him out. He’d already decided if she didn’t call him by tonight, he was going to call her tomorrow and ask her out on a goddamn date. An actual get-dressed-and-go-to-dinner date.

  Fuck it. He’d waited long enough. And if she turned him down again, after Monday night… Hell, he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. In the meantime, he’d thought, he’d focus on what he did best—hockey.

  But this morning’s practice had been a joke, at least for him. He’d let himself get caught up in the shit in his head over Gabby, and he’d missed more pucks than he’d stopped. A few of the guys had given him looks and the goalie coach had asked him if there was anything he wanted to talk about.

  He’d told Coach Ellis he hadn’t slept well and was fighting a headache. Maybe he bought it. Probably not, but the goalie coach was more concerned with the Colonials’ number one goalie. Shane was battling a two-game losing streak that he needed to shut down quick if they wanted to make a run for the playoffs this year.

  And now, he had to deal with this. He was supposed to head back to the video review room to go over tape, but he’d known that wasn’t going to happen as soon as Sunny began speaking again. Because now he heard tears in her voice.

  “I don’t know what to do. Mom told me not to call but…”

  “But what? Sunny, just spit it out.”

  Another sigh followed by a somewhat shaky indrawn breath.

  Sonuvabitch. He was going to punch his father’s face—

  “Dad found Mom’s stash and he freaked out. I came home in the middle of it. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack.” She paused. “He started yelling and screaming about why she had so much money and where she got it and— He just seemed so angry. Mom didn’t say much but that only seemed to make him even worse.”

  Tim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to contain at least some of the burning rage in his gut. His mom’s stash was the money Tim sent for her and Sunny to come visit him. Actually, he sent it so that, if something ever happened, they had enough money get away from his asshole father.

  He loved his mom dearly. But he would never understand why she wouldn’t leave the bastard who dominated every aspect of her life. From how much money she spent for food to what she wore to go shopping. Craig Stanton wasn’t as hard on Sunny, which was the only reason Tim could think of for why Sunny continued to live at home. Tim had left when he was fifteen, so fucking happy to be out of the house. And secretly guilty because he hadn’t stayed.

  Sonuva-fucking-bitch.

  “I’ll get the first flight out tonight—”

  “No.” Sunny’s voice had a
hard edge. “No way. That’s not why I’m calling. Besides, you know Mom would hate that. She didn’t want me to call and I had to promise her not to. So now I’ve broken that promise, but I thought you should know because I’m trying to talk her into coming for a visit. A few days away. Dad’s got a job in Arizona for a week. He’s leaving Friday. He’ll have time to cool off.”

  “He hasn’t cooled off in thirty fucking years, Sunny. He’s not cooling off now.”

  Shit. Shit. He never used that tone with his sister. He’d sworn he never would. But this crap with his dad and the situation with Gabby yesterday had made him lose his grip. That put him one step closer to being like his dad. And that wasn’t going to happen. Not ever.

  “Tim—”

  “Hey, kid, I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. Not at all. I’m just frustrated.”

  “I know, Timmy. I get it. I just…I didn’t call you to make you angry or frustrated. I just want you to know we…or maybe just me…may show up on your doorstep. Like, out of the blue. And I don’t want you to be a caveman and beat your chest when we get there because that won’t help Mom.”

  “You know you’re always welcome.”

  “Well, if we show up, you have to promise to act like a normal human being and not a Neanderthal. The only way you’re going to get Mom to listen to you is by acting against your nature.”

  After a shocked second, he barked out a laugh.

  “When did you become so smart, brat?”

  He heard Sunny’s disgusted huff through the phone. “I always have been. You just haven’t been around to see it. And damn it, don’t take that the wrong way.”

  “Nah, you’re right. It’s true. I got out as soon as I could.”

  “That was the absolute right move for you, Timmy. You and Dad…” Tim knew Sunny was shaking her head, even though he couldn’t see her, “just don’t get along. And you didn’t abandon us, so stop beating yourself up about that. But…if I can get Mom on a plane, we’re heading to you. I think they could both use a break. I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  “I still think I should fly out there and—”

  “No. It’s the middle of the season. You can’t just put everything on hold for this. Besides, it’ll just freak Mom out even more.”

  “I’ll tell Coach I need some personal time and—”

  “Tim. Stop.”

  The edge on his sister’s voice stopped him cold. Sunny wasn’t just her name. It was her disposition. He’d never heard her use that tone before.

  “She doesn’t need you to save her. I don’t need you to save me. I need you to be there for us if we decide we’re coming for a visit. I don’t need you to fly out here and beat your chest and make things worse.”

  Fuck. Just…fuck.

  She sighed and, in his head, he saw her so clearly, his baby sister with her straight black hair and her blue eyes and a smile that never quit.

  Except now. She wasn’t smiling now. And it was his fault.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just worried. I don’t like that you’re alone out there.”

  “We’re not alone. Jesus, you make it sound like we live outside civilization. Get a grip.”

  And there was the teenager he knew and loved.

  “Just make the reservations,” he ordered. “You’ve got the credit card, right? Just buy the tickets with that. Tell Mom it’s my Christmas gift to you and her.”

  Last year, when she’d graduated from high school, he’d given his sister an AmEx with no credit limit. He’d told her to go wild and buy herself clothes, get an apartment, enroll in college, open a business. Hell, he didn’t care what she did with it as long as she had the means to leave if she ever wanted to.

  He thought she might have used it twice since he’d given it to her. Both times for plane tickets to visit him. And even then, she’d flown coach on the cheapest airline she could find.

  “I think I can make that work,” she said. “Dad was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be home for the holidays. I overheard them talking about it the other day.”

  “Then you better text me later today and tell me you got tickets.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.”

  A reluctant grin curved his lips. “And you’re not too old for me to spank you.”

  “Which you will never do so that’s a worthless threat.”

  Very true.

  Shaking his head, he sighed. “Talk to Mom. Come out for Christmas. We’ll go to New York City for a day. We’ll see the tree and I’ll even suffer through the Rockettes for you.”

  “I’ll do what I can. And I’m holding you to that trip. No backing out. I love you, Timmy.”

  “Love you too, brat. Call me tonight, okay, and let me know what’s going on.”

  After saying good-bye, he hung up and blew out the huge sigh that’d been building in his chest. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall. The anger tying his gut in knots was harder to get rid of.

  Every time he thought he’d gotten past this shit with his dad, something happened to make him realize he never would be.

  He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he and his dad weren’t at each other’s throats. His earliest clear memories of his dad involved a peewee game when Tim had been six. He hadn’t been the best skater, but he could handle a stick, so he’d been bumped up an age level. Playing with kids who were two or three years older than him. He’d been a big kid so he’d had the advantage there.

  That first game had set the tone for all the ones to follow. Tim would play. His father would berate. Luckily, his dad had traveled. A lot. Which meant he hadn’t been able to get to too many games.

  “Uh, hey, Tank. You okay?”

  Opening his eyes, Tim caught the gaze of his youngest teammate. Nineteen and one of the best skaters Tim had ever seen on the ice, Ollie Andersen had a wild tangle of white-gold waves, freckles that made him look years younger than he really was, and amazing hazel eyes that looked like broken glass. Strangers did double takes and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to stare at the kid. Seriously.

  Ollie had been a top-ten draft pick in June and had silenced every last naysayer who’d said he wasn’t ready to play in the NHL within his first two games. Just out of high school, the kid lived with the team’s oldest player, Dwayne Reid, and his family. And that was a damn good thing because Ollie hadn’t yet developed the thick skin needed to deal with the raft of shit professional athletes dealt with on a regular basis. He was also way too nice for his own damn good. And so fucking talented.

  “Yeah, Ollie. I’m fine. You need me for something?”

  “Um, well.” The kid’s cheeks turned a furious red. “I was wondering if we could maybe get dinner tonight? If you’re busy,” he rushed on, “no problem. I know you probably got things—”

  “Sure, tonight’s fine.” Not like he had anything else to do tonight. And despite the rest of the shit in his head, Tim grinned. This kid had a way of making people do that. “You’d be doing me a favor. I was gonna grab some food and— Wait, why don’t we just order in food and we can start that show you were telling me about?”

  Ollie’s smile threatened to crack his face in half. “Yeah, that’d be great. I think you’re gonna really like it.”

  The kid had been talking to Tim for weeks about this show on Netflix he thought Tim would love. Some out-there, fantasy puppet show that Tim never would’ve considered watching. But because Ollie reminded him of Sunny, Tim knew it wouldn’t be a hardship to spend a few hours watching TV with him.

  Not yet old enough to go out with the younger guys who liked to the hit the clubs, Ollie and Ian Clark, one of the Colonials’ prospects playing for their AHL affiliate, the Reading Redtails, hung out together when Ian happened to be in town. Otherwise, the kid spent a lot of time with Dwayne’s three kids, the oldest only five years younger than Ollie.

  “I’m sure I will. So what do you wanna eat tonight? Pizza or burgers?”

  The kid’s smil
e got impossibly wider. “You’re gonna let me eat the good stuff? What, no salad?”

  “Don’t press your luck or your burger’ll be made from that impossible meat shit.”

  Ollie’s laugh rang through the hall, catching the ear of Shane and Lad, who were just coming out of the locker room.

  “Tank, you are threatening to poison Ollie with fake meat.” Lad shook his head, stoic expression hiding a sharp wit. “That is child abuse, yes?”

  “What? They don’t have vegetables in Mother Russia?” Ollie shot back.

  Used to being ribbed about being Russian when he was actually Czech, Lad shrugged off Ollie’s comeback.

  “We only eat red meat and glass. You all are pussies eating trees and twigs.”

  Shane smacked Lad on the shoulder hard enough to make him pitch forward an inch or so. Lad’s expression never changed.

  “Maybe if you ate a few more salads, you wouldn’t complain about sprints.”

  Tank’s own grin widened. Considering Lad weighed a solid two hundred twenty pounds of finely honed muscle, Shane’s observation was just a dig. Which Lad, of course, knew and shrugged off in a heartbeat.

  “You are cow compared to finely honed Czech hockey machine.”

  Which, of course, made them all howl with laughter.

  “Hey, you guys wanna watch this amazing show—oh wait.” He turned with wide eyes to Tim. “I didn’t mean—”

  Tim grinned and shook his head. “You two wanna join the fun tonight? We’re getting food.”

  Surprisingly, neither of the guys had plans, and since Shane’s girlfriend, Bliss, was meeting friends for dinner, they both took him up on the offer.

  Looked like he wouldn’t be spending the night alone after all. And that was probably a good thing.

  Gabby heard voices as she approached the hall to the locker room and stopped just before the turn.

  One of those voices was Tim’s. Her stomach did a little flip-flop that made her feel like she’d stepped on a roller coaster, and she took in a deep breath to stave off any additional unwanted…feelings.