On Thin Ice (A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance)

by Aven Ellis

  “No,” Matt says, his blue eyes locked in on mine. “This is our cat, Holly. This is our cat.”

  Despite the fact that we’re in public, Matt entwines his fingers with mine.

  Simon was destined to be ours.

  I know with all my heart there are no better owners for Simon than the two of us.

  We don’t say a word, but I know what Matt is thinking. Simon is going to be our cat. We’ll love him and take care of him and nurture him as a team. He’ll be better with us.

  Just like we are better with each other.

  No matter what Nate says or the rest of the world thinks, I know there is no better man for me on this earth than the one holding my hand right now.

  Matt is The One.

  And nothing, and no one, will ever change that.

  Chapter 27

  The Game Plan For January 12th

  √Morning coffee at CiCi’s.

  Go with Matt in the afternoon to adopt Simon, now known as Puck.

  Pick up dress for New Year’s Eve date with Matt on Saturday, alterations have been finished.

  Begin edits on my first client paper, a fellow volleyball player of Reese’s.

  √Continue to work on practice questions for barre studio receptionist interview on Monday.

  Finish emotion-building scene between Heath and Calla, start laying the framework for the black moment when all seems lost between them.

  “It’s unbelievable that all of our schedules have aligned today,” CiCi says, smoothing her bobbed hair. “How lucky am I that all my girls are here with me for coffee? Perhaps I should serve champagne instead to celebrate this momentous occasion.”

  I can’t believe I’m considered one of her “inner circle” girls, I think to myself while looking around CiCi’s living room. The room seems like it was swept right off a Ralph Lauren showroom floor, full of luxurious plaids in an equestrian décor theme.

  Kenley and her best friend, Lexi Stewart, are sitting next to me on the couch. Kenley didn’t have any parties or classes on her schedule today, and Lexi was given the day off since she has to work Friday night for the Demons’ game at Total Access Total Sports.

  I remember how much I liked Lexi when I met her this past fall as part of CiCi’s plan to get her and her current boyfriend, Demons producer Niko Xenakis, together at Casino Night.

  The night CiCi told me Matt liked me.

  She knew before I did, I remember with amazement.

  Matt’s right.

  She is The Godfather.

  “I always like to see you, CiCi,” Claire says, looking up from her coloring book on the floor.

  “As I do you, princess,” CiCi says, beaming at her granddaughter.

  “Okay, we’re good,” Amanda says, entering the room with Bella on her hip. Amanda is Kenley’s older sister, and she has the same striking good looks as Kenley.

  Amanda sinks down into a leather chair, placing Bella on her lap.

  “Well, now that we’re all here, let’s have some coffee,” CiCi says. “I set up a coffee bar in the kitchen, and I have pastries from La Duni.”

  “Oh please tell me you got their caramelized pecan brioche rolls,” Kenley says. “Those are so good.”

  “What’s La Duni?” I ask.

  “It’s a Latin bakery,” Lexi answers, smiling at me. “Kenley and I go there all the time for brunch.”

  “You should come with us next time,” Kenley adds.

  “I would love to,” I say, thinking of how fun that sounds.

  Amanda stands up. “Claire, do you want some bread? CiCi has some yummy treats in the kitchen.”

  “I want a guava roll, Mommy.”

  Amanda looks at CiCi. “How does she know what a guava roll is and that La Duni makes them?”

  CiCi rises from her chair and shrugs.

  “We might get them now and then when I take her shopping at NorthPark.”

  “CiCi, you always eat scones,” Claire says, smiling as she gives CiCi up.

  “I know you like them, too,” CiCi says as we enter the kitchen. “And we’ll save one for Matthew since he’s coming over for lunch today.”

  I feel heat rise in my cheeks from the mere mention of Matt’s name. This is his second lunch with CiCi, but this time, I’m leaving him to his own devices so I can get some work done this afternoon.

  “The Wild One,” Claire says, climbing up on to her seat.

  “Claire,” Amanda warns as she places Bella in her high chair.

  “CiCi says it.” Claire looks at Kenley. “Aunt Kenley, did you know Holly is going to have his baby?”

  Gah!

  “No, no, I’m not,” I sputter as my face burns with heat.

  “Claire! What makes you say such a thing?” Amanda asks quickly.

  “We talked about it at lunch, didn’t we, Holly?” Claire says.

  “Um, we were talking about ponies and a prince and princess and things went astray,” I manage, reaching for a coffee cup as a distraction.

  “Mother, remind me why I leave my daughters here?” Amanda says, arching an eyebrow.

  “Oh, that was silliness,” CiCi dismisses, placing a pitcher of orange juice on the table.

  Kenley laughs. “I’ll say. I can’t imagine two people more different than you and Matt, Holly.”

  “We’re friends,” I say, waiting for Lexi to finish pouring herself a cup of coffee from the large silver urn.

  “Friends are one thing, but dating?” Kenley’s blue eyes sparkle at me in amusement. “You two are in no way a match.”

  I understand Kenley doesn’t know what she is saying, but her words hurt me. Why can’t the world see what we see in each other? Is it because I’m not as exciting and as gorgeous as the girls Matt is typically seen with? I’m an intellectual who is too boring for a wild child like Matt?

  My confidence is shaken by the thought. Matt promised me he’s all in, but will he get bored of this life? Does he really want to hang out at home with me and a cat forever? It’s new to him now, but what if it gets old in a few months?

  I bite down on my lip as I slide my coffee cup under the spout.

  I’ll be devastated if that happens.

  Now that I have him, I can’t ever imagine losing him.

  “Well, Kenley, I never imagined you with a tattooed hockey player whose image is all over Tumble, but that happened, didn’t it?”

  I stop pouring my coffee and glance at CiCi. She has a knowing look in her pale-blue eyes as she shifts her attention to me.

  Does she know about us?

  My heart seizes at the thought.

  But then I realize if she does know, she is on my side.

  No. She’s on our side.

  “Mom, for the millionth time, it’s Tumblr!” Amanda says in exasperation. “I swear I’m going to write it on your hand so you won’t forget.”

  Claire giggles, followed by Bella.

  “Mommy, that’s silly to write on CiCi’s hand!”

  “Yes, well, lots of things are silly around here,” Amanda says, placing some brioche bread on a plate as she gives her mother a look.

  “Amanda, you overdramatize. You must have gotten that from your father,” CiCi declares, sitting down next to Claire at the table.

  Oh, CiCi, I don’t think so, I muse with a secret smile to myself.

  “You did get those pecan rolls,” Lexi says in delight. “Kenley, do you want to split one with me?”

  Kenley grins at Lexi. “You can split with someone else. I want my own.”

  Everyone laughs at that, and the conversation officially shifts away from Matt and me.

  I take a sip of my hazelnut coffee with cream and feel the tension ease out of my body. I realize people
aren’t going to understand my relationship with Matt. It will shock people when we come out, so to speak, because, on paper, it makes no sense. We are total opposites.

  But in reality, we’re perfect for each other.

  And what matters most is that Matt believes that, too.

  “Okay, all of your paperwork has been processed,” Scarlett says, handing Matt a copy. “We have your adoption fee, and in a few minutes you’ll meet with Dr. Clark, our vet, to go over Simon’s, er, I mean, Puck’s, care.”

  We’re seated in a private room at Le Chat Café, and we’re all set to take Simon—renamed Puck—home today.

  “Thank you,” Matt says.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes with the doctor,” Scarlett says, excusing herself.

  After she shuts the door, Matt reaches for my hand underneath the table, lacing his fingers through mine.

  “I can do this, right?” he asks. “Take care of a cat with diabetes?”

  “Of course you can,” I say. “It’s only a matter of learning how. You weren’t born knowing how to play hockey, right? It’s something that was taught to you. This is no different.”

  “Well, yes, except nobody dies if I miss the net on a slap shot.”

  “You’re not going to let Puck die.”

  Matt rakes a hand through his hair and exhales. “Right.”

  “I’m serious. You’re going to be a great kitty daddy.”

  “You have no doubts about me, do you?”

  I hold my gaze steady on his face. “None,” I say, speaking of more than my belief that he can take care of Puck.

  The door opens and in walks a brunette woman with a lab coat on.

  “Hello, I’m Dr. Clark,” she says as we both stand up to greet her. “You must be Matt. Congratulations on adopting a sugar kitty.”

  Matt shakes her hand. “A sugar kitty?”

  Dr. Clark smiles. “That’s what we affectionately call our diabetic cats. Sugar kitties.”

  He grins. “I’ve got myself a sugar kitty then.”

  “You do.” Dr. Clark turns to me.

  “This is Holly,” Matt says.

  “Pleasure, Holly,” she says, extending her hand to me.

  I shake it. “Likewise.”

  “Please, have a seat,” Dr. Clark says.

  We all sit down, and Dr. Clark begins educating us on Puck’s history and care. Matt has me record the session with my phone so we can play back Dr. Clark’s instructions if we ever have a question on something.

  “I believe the best owners are the ones fully involved in their pets’ care. We can manage Puck just as we would a human with diabetes,” Dr. Clark explains. “Now, I see from your profile you travel for hockey, right?”

  “Yes,” Matt nods. “But I will hire a pet sitter to come and take care of Puck when I’m on the road. I know from what I read online that medicine has to be given at regular intervals.”

  “That’s correct,” she says. “Puck will need insulin, in his case, twice a day, every twelve hours, after he eats. I will write you a prescription and go over how to administer it.”

  “Okay,” he says.

  She hands us a sheaf of handouts and reviews the sheet explaining the process for administering insulin. Then she discusses symptoms with us and suggests we prepare a home emergency kit that includes such items as honey and an oral syringe. She also makes sure we locate the nearest twenty-four-hour vet.

  I glance at Matt, thinking he might be overwhelmed.

  Instead, I’m amazed to see him begin asking the doctor follow-up questions.

  “So how I handle a hypoglycemic event depends on the number I get when I test and the symptoms Puck shows?”

  I’m so freaking proud of him I’m about to burst.

  “Yes,” Dr. Clark says, nodding.

  Matt takes a moment to read the hypoglycemic event sheet, and then goes through practice procedures with her based on example symptoms and glucose numbers.

  Dr. Clark smiles at him after he finishes. “You are going to be an excellent sugar kitty daddy.”

  Matt beams in response, and I know why. Dr. Clark sees something in Matt outside of his ability to play hockey. She sees a man who is willing to take on a cat that needs a lot of help. It won’t be easy.

  But that doesn’t scare him.

  And it’s one more thing I love about him. I know Matt is a man who, when everything goes astray, will be determined and strong and figure out what to do.

  Something nobody has ever given him credit for.

  Until now.

  “Now, I would like for you to home test his glucose levels,” she continues, interrupting my thoughts. “You can do this with a human glucometer. You’ll use a lancet to get blood from the cat’s ear before you feed him. You will test it before you administer each dose of insulin to make sure that it is safe to give to him. I also recommend you do spot checks to see if his dose needs adjusting.”

  Matt winces. “Is it hard to get the blood?”

  “Nope,” Dr. Clark says. “I’m going to show you how to do it. You might not be successful the first few times, but then you’ll nail it. It will be as easy as hitting a home run for you.”

  It’s obvious Dr. Clark is not a hockey fan.

  “Um, yeah, I certainly hope so,” Matt says slowly. “Because my home run percentage is zero.”

  Dr. Clark looks confused, and I shove down a bubble of laughter stuck in my throat.

  “Anyway, we’ll do that in the exam room here in a minute,” she says, continuing. “But now I want to talk about Puck’s diet. He needs low carbohydrate, high-protein canned cat food. No dry food. It’s too high in carbs. Pâté cat food is the best because it’s lower in carbs than canned food with gravy. He will also need small meals several times a day.”

  “Pâté? He’s going to eat better than we do,” Matt says, grinning at me.

  “What about treats?” I ask.

  “Good question,” Dr. Clark says. “Freeze-dried meats are best. I will show you how to use treats to make your glucose testing easier.”

  “Okay.” I nod.

  “Let’s talk about what you need to set up for the pet sitter when you’re not home,” Dr. Clark says. “Make sure you have a written authorization for them that allows them to get vet treatment if needed. You’ll also want to reward Puck to be coaxed out with treats so the sitter can easily get him if needed in the beginning. My own cat, Spitzer, associates testing with treats, so it makes the job much easier.”

  “Makes sense,” Matt says, nodding.

  She goes over a few more instructions, and then we head into the exam room where Puck is waiting for us in a cage.

  “Hey Puck,” Matt says, walking over to him. “You’re going home to some new digs today.”

  Puck backs up into a corner of the cage in terror.

  “He will eventually trust you,” Dr. Clark says as she opens the door. “It will take time and encouragement, that’s all.”

  “Matt’s good with that,” I say, thinking of how he was with me on New Year’s Eve when I was drowning in my own fear. “Puck is lucky to be going home with him.”

  Matt’s eyes lock with mine. I will him to know I trust him, these shelter people trust him, and Puck is blessed to be adopted by him.

  Dr. Clark picks up Puck and shows Matt how to use the lancet to collect the blood sample. She explains that they test here because of a lack of nerve endings on the edge of the ear. To my surprise, it doesn’t look that hard, and I know it will be routine for us in no time. Afterward, she gives Puck a treat, because he associates the test with a reward.

  Dr. Clark goes on to talk about anxiety and techniques to make Puck feel safe. She gives us tips for how to handle him while he’s getting to know us so testing an
d insulin injections are easier. I already know Matt will have all the right instincts on how to help Puck, just like he did me.

  “Okay, you’re good to go. Please call me if you have any questions. I put my card in with the packet of printouts about his care. I also recommend you join a feline diabetes group online for support. FelineDiabetes.com has a great message board for members.”

  “Thank you,” Matt says, nodding at her.

  She picks up Puck and places him back into the cat carrier we brought with us, zipping the top shut.

  “Good luck,” she says, smiling at us as she leaves the room.

  “We have a sugar kitty,” Matt says.

  I affectionately slide my arms around him. “Look at you. In less than a month, you’ve gone from Jell-O shots and models to a diabetic cat and a girlfriend with knee-high socks. Are you sure about this?”

  I gaze up at him. Although I said it in a teasing way, my heart needs to be reassured Matt is truly happy with his new life.

  Matt slides his hands up to my face. His eyes lock on mine.

  “I’ve never been happier,” he whispers, pressing his lips gently to mine. “I never wanted the life I lived before you, Holly. But I want this. I want our nights at home, I want Puck, and I want you.”

  And as we kiss again, I know he means it. My anxiety slips away as I drink in the sweetness of his kiss.

  This is our new life.

  And I’m confident it’s forever.

  Chapter 28

  The Game Plan For January 14th

  New Year’s Eve Date Tonight!

  √Lay out dress, shoes, accessories.

  √Appointment to get hair done at 11AM.

  √Manicure and pedicure with Reese at 2PM.

  Matt will pick me up at 7.

  I stare at my reflection in the mirror, hardly believing that I’m looking at myself.

  Who is this girl staring back at me?

  My long, brown hair is half-up, twisted in an elaborate braid that flows into the rest of my hair. I have smoky eyes and a creamy, peachy-nude color swiped across my lips. I’m wearing a spaghetti-strapped, platinum-sequined dress with a killer pair of four-inch black suede sandals with a sexy ankle strap.