Breaking the Ice (Timberwolves #1)

by Lizzy Ripp

  He chose this particular bar because it was quiet and not flashy. Not the sort of place the pre-game crowd generally came to hang out. Generally.

  Tonight, however, was destined to be different. The door was thrown open and all the usual punters were startled by the arrival of a group of huge, boisterous young men, not from the local team, but from Detroit. Looking up, Yaro swore under his breath as he recognized Ryan Sorbo, flanked on each side by two of his favorite goons - a beefy, blonde Swede named Henrik and another older Russian named Anton. The three of them were disruptive and loud in a way that only the young, athletic and male can truly be - and Yaro swore under his breath at the sight of them.

  Great. With a quick tip of the glass, he downed what little remained of his vodka and slapped a five-dollar bill down on the table, settling his happy-hour tab before surreptitiously heading to the door, hoping to go unnoticed. Unfortunately not.

  "Well, if it isn't Mr. Russia himself," he heard in Russian behind him just before he reached the door. Rolling his eyes skyward, he turned back to face Anton. The older man had had a chip on his shoulder about Yaro for years - his status as one of the best players in the league making him something of a hero in his native country. Something that Anton, despite the fact that he was a "real Russian" who'd spent the entirety of his teenaged years and early twenties in the country, had yet to achieve.

  Privately, Yaro thought it might be because he was a gigantic moron with next to no charm in social situations. But he kept that to himself.

  "Anton. Nice to see you again," he said in Russian, then switching to English, addressed the other two. "Ryan. Henrik."

  "You ready to get destroyed again tonight?" Ryan asked him. Cocky little bastard, thought Yaro with a wry smile.

  "We'll see what happens, man," Yaro drawled, squaring his shoulders to back up his easy tone.

  "You should probably be practicing," Ryan said, "Instead of sitting in the bar drowning your sorrows. We've had... What is it now?" He turned to his associates, who stared at him blankly. "Seven wins in a row against you losers now?"

  "Something like that," Yaro said, making for the door again.

  "We can afford a little pre-game booze," Ryan called after him. "You should probably keep your head in the game though. If you can manage to keep it off that tight little package you got happening on the sidelines."

  Yaro paused with a deep sigh. He really hadn't wanted to deal with this little shit in public, but now -

  He turned back, ready to raise a first when he remembered something - Julia's small, firm, insistent hand on his arm that day in the cafe, her pleading brown eyes looking up at him and begging him to walk away. If he took care of Ryan now, he'd be ruining her chances at her promotion. Much as he hated to do it, he lowered his hand back to his side and set his jaw.

  "I'll see you on the ice, Sorbo," he said simply, heading out the door to the sound of jeers behind him.

  ---

  Two hours later, Yaro was on the ice, feeling significantly less relaxed than he had a few hours before. This in itself was unusual - he'd been playing games in front of huge crowds regularly for most of his life, and generally felt more relaxed on the ice than he did anywhere else. But tonight, he felt like there was lightning coursing through his veins. He was on fire, his checks extra aggressive, his speed high and precise, his stick-work flawless.

  "I don't know what the hell happened to you over the break, but keep it up," Jerry had said in admiration as he returned to the bench after assisting Jonathan to a hat-trick.

  Yaro nodded breathlessly, feeling unstoppable - and then his heart skipped a beat as he noticed a familiar face in the reserved company seats to the side of the box. Julia was sitting there, not five feet away, with Cassie West by her side, the two of them laughing together and looking as if they genuinely enjoyed one another's company. She didn't notice him staring at her and he took advantage of that to let his gaze wash over her, to take in the blonde hair, spilling straight over her shoulders and the smile that lit up her whole face, the way she covered her face with her hands when she got especially carried away with laughter. It was impossible not to smile at the sight - and it was only when she caught his eye that he realized he was, in fact, doing just that.

  To his surprise, she gave a soft smile back and mouthed, 'hey'. He gave an elaborate show of being startled and looking behind him, before pointing back at himself and mouthing back 'me?'

  She rolled her eyes skyward, but laughed, mouthing back 'idiot'.

  "Ahem," he heard a gruff voice behind him. "Are you just about done acting like a lovesick pre-teen? Did you want to play some hockey maybe? Get the hell off the bench!" Jerry yelled, practically pushing him back onto the ice. Yaro found it difficult to do much but laugh, feeling light as a feather as he skated around the ice. They were well ahead - the score was four to one - and he felt the relaxation he'd been missing for the past two hours of the game begin to settle over him as the clock began to run down. It returned, however, as he remembered he had some business yet to take care of, spotting Ryan Sorbo whiz by, scowling. He'd been playing dirty with his two lackeys all game long, doing dangerous checks behind the ref's back, tripping, high-sticking and just generally being a complete and utter pain in the ass - sore at losing, no doubt. Yaro could have been the bigger man and simply let it slide, but as he thought back to that smug little weasel’s face as he insulted Julia, he decided that he just didn't want to. He had business to take care of.

  As the clock wound down, he abandoned his defensive post and went looking for Sorbo at the other end of the rink, waiting patiently until he tried, scrambling like a trapped rat, to get his stick on the puck one last time, just so he could have the last say in the game. Just like Yaro knew he would. As soon as he laid his stick on it, wresting it from the skates of young rookie Luke LaRois, Yaro pounced, flying Ryan's way like a freight train off the rails. He registered a split second of Ryan's widened eyes before the world exploded into stars.

  —

  When Yaro woke - he couldn't say how long - later, the first thing he registered was blinding light he immediately closed his eyes to avoid. It was followed by a receding roar and a pleasant smell he recognized but couldn't place. Then there was the fact that his head felt like it was splitting in two. He groaned deeply, resisting opening his eyes, instead, squeezing them tightly shut despite the fact that someone - in a light, faraway voice that sounded as if it were coming to him through a tunnel or from deep underwater - was calling his name.

  "Yaro? Yaro! Open your eyes."

  No, he thought. Screw that. I'm staying in the cocoon. His head was throbbing enough as it was.

  "Yaro!" The voice was more insistent now.

  With another groan he cracked open one eyelid and then the other, a flood of light attacking his retinas with gusto. He blinked several times, feeling sick, his stomach heaving, his head alternating between throbbing and spinning. His eyes couldn't seem to focus on anything, but he finally managed to fix one thing in his field of vision - and it was Julia's face, looking frantic with worry.

  He wanted to tell her not to worry, but he felt that if he opened his mouth to speak, he might instead vomit all over himself. That was really more of a third date thing, he thought.

  A moment later, there was a man bending over him and shining a flashlight into his eyes, which he did not appreciate whatsoever.

  "Yaro," the man was saying, " I need you to focus on me, okay? You gave your head a good crack there, we're just trying to make sure you're all right. We think you might have a concussion - so I need you to focus, okay?"

  Yaro gave a blurry mumble that sounded strangely to Julia's ears like "Screw that" and promptly closed his eyes and faded into unconsciousness.

  ---

  Julia was having a weird day. She'd gotten into her office late - having spent much more time than she wanted to choosing an outfit that would be suitable for public consumption on game day. Typically, she would stay up in the company box but b
oth Christina and Cassie had reminded her the night before that she needed to be ‘seen.’ Being ‘seen’ was not was not something her wardrobe typically revolved around.

  The dress she'd finally chosen after an entire night agonizing over the issue had, she discovered on her way out the door the next morning, a rip up the side that she must have drunkenly sustained on the last night she'd worn it - to her older brother's thirtieth birthday.

  She'd managed to dig something up - a pencil skirt and blouse combo that she thought made her look kind of like a sexy retro secretary and finally made it into work to find Christina already enjoying what she was informed was her third coffee of the morning.

  "I'm so sorry," Julia had gasped. "I had... Wardrobe issues."

  "It's fine." Christina had said, waving a blasé hand. "Have to have you presentable. But that's what you went with?"

  "Yeah. I mean... Yes. What's wrong with it?" Julia asked, looking down in dismay.

  "Honey, you look like Betty Boop."

  "I thought it was kind of retro? You know? Kind of cool?" Julia asked, somewhat desperately, and studied herself in the mirror on the back of Christina's office door.

  Christina came to stand behind her and studied her critically before clearly coming to the conclusion that Julia was not an appropriate judge of the word ‘cool’.

  "No," she said firmly. "This won't work."

  Julia's face fell.

  "You look like someone shot your puppy dog," Christina said, a smile stealing across her face. "Just go out before the game and grab something. Charge it to your work credit card. Buy whatever you want. Company business."

  "Are you serious?"

  "Absolutely. Also, feel free to get your makeup done... You know, if you want," she added, doing her best to sound casual and failing utterly.

  Taking the hint, Julia nodded. "Okay," she said, adequately shamed, and made for her office.

  "Yaro was here looking for you this morning, you know," Christina called after her.

  Julia paused, turning back. "He was?"

  "Mmhmm. Came up here with a flimsy excuse to talk to you. Something about his suit."

  "I already told him about that."

  "I assumed so."

  Julia couldn't help the smile that crept to her face at this.

  "Look at you," Christina said indulgently. "You are a smitten kitten."

  "I am not. No. 100% not any kind of kitten," Julia said, her cheeks flaming.

  "Okay," Christina nodded, placating her. "You just go get yourself looking like a million bucks little lady."

  Chastened, Julia crept back to her office but found it difficult to even fathom getting anything done. So instead, she'd texted Cassie asking if she was free for the evening and wanted to trade some shopping tips for free tickets to tonight's game.

  Please, please, please, she thought as she clicked send. I do not trust myself to put together an outfit worthy of TV on my own.

  She waited in squirming agony until Cassie's reply popped up a scant two minutes later.

  “Bish I got you. 5?”

  Julia's shoulders sagged in relief and she made her way to her desk - where she noticed a Post-It note stuck to her computer screen. She pulled it down and studied it.

  I was an idiot. I’m sorry.

  I promise I’ll make it up to you if you give me the chance.

  PS I can’t stop thinking about you. Neither can Max, he told me.

  Yaro

  Julia’s hand flew to her mouth and she found herself flushed and smiling in spite of herself. She wanted to stay mad at him, she really and truly did. But she was finding it increasingly difficult. With a smile on her face, she went back to work and spent the rest of the day half lost in a dream.

  ---

  By 6:00 that night, Julia was laden down with bags on top of being dressed in an entirely new outfit that Cassie had picked out. Cassie, she learned, did not employ a stylist, but put together everything she wore on her own, a fact which made Julia feel even worse about her own inability to dress herself for basic occasions.

  "It's part of my job," Cassie shrugged, critically eyeing a dress on a mannequin ahead of them and reaching out to touch the fabric.

  "Yeah, well now it's part of mine too apparently."

  "That's good though," Cassie smiled. "Company credit card."

  "That is an unexpected perk."

  "What about the gala? You've got something picked out?" Cassie asked, sipping on her superfood smoothie as she walked.

  Julia who had secretly discarded her own smoothie after two sips, nodded. "Uh huh."

  Hearing only silence in return, she looked up to find Cassie giving her some serious side-eye.

  "What?"

  "It's not that I don't trust you" Cassie began gently. "But have you got any pictures?"

  "Uh. Yeah," Julia said, bringing up her phone's camera roll and scrolling through until she found the dress in question. "It's my favorite, I wore it to my senior..."

  Cassie stared at her. "I know you are not about to say your senior prom because that was seven years ago and you are a grown-ass woman with a job."

  Julia's face fell.

  "Oh honey," she heard for the second time that day. Cassie grasped her arm. “You know what? Sometimes I come down here just to try things on for fun," she said. "Imagine the different places I could wear them. The people I would meet. Like playing dress-up when you're a kid. Why don’t we try that for a little inspiration?“

  With this fanciful notion in their minds, the two of them browsed dresses not for practicality but for the sheer delight of it - and Julia chose one that elicited a tiny, involuntary "oh!" from her the moment she laid her hands upon it. It was a long, streamlined royal blue, with a wrapped bodice and a flowing, Grecian style skirt. It also, she noted, running her hands down the incredibly silky and ephemeral material, had an overlying thin layer of gauzy material that she knew would trail after to goddess-like effect. She imagined herself caught on a breeze at the top of some grand staircase, the fabric billowing behind her. She gave a tiny sigh and then snapped back to attention, noticing Cassie's smile.

  "That's it," Cassie said with satisfaction. "That's the one. You have to get it.”

  Julia refused, despite Cassie’s wheedling, but finally gave up.

  “Fine,” she said. “I’ll try it on. But just for fun,” she warned.

  Cassie nodded absently, hugging to her chest a figure-hugging red satin that cut dramatically down the sternum - something Julia didn't think she'd ever feel brave enough to wear in public, no matter how big the cat-eye.

  In the changing room, roughly the size of her first dorm room, Julia put on the goddess-like dress and another soft "oh!" escaped her when she first saw herself in it. The way it hugged the top of her body and draped effortlessly over the rest made her feel like an artwork come to life, and the small piece of loose fabric did trail behind her just as charmingly as she'd imagined. She emerged from the change room to Cassie's excited squeal and applause, feeling like the headliner at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show with the dress billowing behind her.

  "You look amazing!" Cassie shrieked, her own, much more va-va-voom dress not even mentioned.

  "So do you," Julia rightly pointed out. "You look like Jessica Rabbit."

  "Why thank you sugar," Cassie winked. "But you... Oh wow. Give me a twirl."

  Julia didn't think she'd ever felt more beautiful in her life than she did in that one moment. It really was just like playing pretend - when your imagination ran wild and price and practicality were nothing more than negligible considerations.

  "Well," she sighed at last after ten minutes of strutting about- "that was wonderful."

  "It was," Cassie agreed. "See what I mean? Instant mood booster."

  Julia had to admit that Cassie was right - she felt as if something of the goddess-like dress had rubbed off on her, and she was strong, beautiful and confident enough to take on whatever the evening brought her way.

  “Rea
dy to get glam?” Cassie asked, with a smile.

  Julia grinned back. “You know it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AFTER A QUICK application of makeup in the Nordstrom's bathroom, they caught a cab and arrived at the stadium just in time for puck-drop. Julia, who hadn't had time to eat and was less than satisfied after her experience with the superfood smoothie, insisted on getting a hot dog and a beer, at which Cassie was completely aghast.

  "Do you know what goes into those?" She asked, wrinkling her nose as Julia took a big bite and gave an orgasmic groan.

  "Deliciousness? Magic? Unicorn dust?"

  Cassie rolled her eyes. "Gross."

  The two of them made their way slowly down to the ice amid the wildly amped up home-crowd, the game fully in swing. They sat beside the box. Eyes swiveled their way and Julia had to remind herself that she was hanging out with a celebrity - Cassie just seemed so normal.

  Julia noticed, with some alarm, a fight breaking out towards the away team's end in which, she gratefully realized, Yaro was not involved.

  "It's not Yaro is it?" Cassie asked, squinting.

  "No. It's Ryan Sorbo - he's such a dick. Looks like Bernal fighting with him."

  She scanned the ice for Yaro and spotted him slowly skating around the home-end, waiting for the fight to be over. She felt a little flutter run through her and she smiled to herself. At least, she thought it was to herself.

  “You like him,” Cassie said, smiling sideways at her.

  Julia sighed. “I think I do. Damn it.”

  Cassie shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with liking someone. Just make sure it doesn’t interfere with what you’ve got planned. Remember why you got into this in the first place. It doesn’t - or it shouldn’t, at least - change anything.”