Scoring Off The Ice: Ice Kings, #2 by Stacey Lynn

Author:Stacey Lynn
Language: eng
Format: epub

We’re on the couch where I’m wearing Mikah pants that are three sizes too large for me, a shirt I’m swimming in, and a bottled water in my hand. The glass of wine I sipped earlier has made me sleepy and if we’re trying to salvage this night, drooling on his shoulder while I fall asleep isn’t the way that will happen.

He’s next to me and we’re scrolling through his plethora of movie apps trying to decide what to watch but in reality, we keep getting distracted by our conversations.

He started it by asking me if I wanted to watch a thriller movie to which he received a very loud and enthusiastic hell no from me.

I’ve just suggested an old slapstick humor movie and he declined. “Sometimes the American slang loses something in translation, so I don’t find them funny.”

I’m so curious to know anything and everything about him, I lose all interest in finding a movie to watch.

“Have you always studied English?”

“We begin studying it in primary school. Early. But it’s still different to speak it every day here. The first year I lived here was rough. I barely got jokes, cuss words.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but he’s so young. And I imagine not knowing the language of your teammates would make connecting difficult.

“How long have you lived here then?”

He gives me a sly smile I feel down to my toes.

“What?” I ask

“You haven’t looked into it?”

I jolt from my spot on the couch. “What?”

Mikah’s hand slides through my hair. The gesture should be calming but I’m so confused by what he’s asked I’m anything but calm.

“Online,” he murmurs. His attention is solely focused on my hair, his hand playing with it. Perhaps he’s spotted the small but raised mole at the side of my neck. Yeah, Mikah can be intense. “You haven’t looked me up.”

Oh. That’s what he’s talking about.

His hand is still in my hair, distracting me. His blue eyes seemed to have darkened.

As much as I want to know everything about him, I want him to know everything about me.

“Only pictures,” I admit. “After that first night Hannah came over and told me who you were I did, but then it felt wrong, so I stopped.” The memory of Maggie in our office last week sparks something in my mind. “My friend Maggie on the other hand... she did, but then I didn’t let her say anything.”

As I’m talking, his hand on me has stopped moving, his focus not solely on me.

“I find it odd you don’t know or care about sports,” he says and it’s in such a strange tone I tense. “But I like it too.”

A soft laugh falls from me. “You’re not answering my question.”

“Because I care more about learning about you than talking about me.” He’s smooth. Perhaps it’s his accent that makes every word he says sound like sex—the rough and gritty kind of sex. “I was drafted when I was eighteen. But they didn’t call me up and move me here until I was twenty.

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