Page 46 of Thin Ice

Quinn searches my eyes for a long while before she nods. “Thank you for telling me. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”

“If you want to know more, just ask.”

“I will. But for now, I think I’d like to enjoy the rest of our night together. You promised me a swim.”

I take her cheeks in my hands, resting our foreheads together. “I love you, Sunshine.”

“I love you, too.”

I pull back enough that I can look into her eyes again. They’re clear and hopeful, her love for me shining in their blue depths.

I lean forward and wait to see if she’ll stop me from kissing her, but thankfully, she doesn’t. My lips seal over hers, the apple-and-rose smell of her tingling my nose in a pleasant way. The kiss isn’t long nor the kind that will lead to anything more, but it’s a kiss of promise that says I’m not running, that I’m here with her.

When we pull apart, a group of ravens fly overhead, their caws loud. Quinn and I both look up at them, and I’m reminded of what Beck told me earlier—that they don’t have to be a bad omen, that they can mean the end of something or a change.

I hope that’s true, because it’s clear that things are changing. Hopefully for the better.

Chapter eighteen

Quinn

Day two at least started better than day one.

Noah woke up in a better mood. He looked lighter, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes clearer. It probably helped that he had a day off from killing his body in the gym. I have no doubt the fact that there weren’t any early-morning knocks on our door and that we ate a solid breakfast with the other couples and some mentors helped, too. A big clarification on that last part—all the mentors were there except for Beck.

Every time someone would arrive, I’d look up to see if it was him. Noah was the same, even if he tried to hide it. I’m not sure what to think about that. But I woke up today determined to move forward and happy that we made it to day two, even if I feel like my entire world has tilted on its axis and I’m not sure how it’s ever going to rebalance.

“Do you know what hotwifing is?”

It’s midafternoon, and we’re on lunch break after the group session this morning. I grip my glass of sweating lemonade in my hand at the same time Noah coughs.

Phil and Josie sit across from us at the outside table covered with an umbrella, our mostly eaten lunches in front of us. Phil’s thick salt-and-pepper eyebrow is raised in question while Josie stares at Noah like he’s something to eat for dessert.

It’s a look I’ve gotten used to over the years. My husband is an attractive man and famous to a certain degree. He’s ogled by all genders—it is what it is. I’ve had to deal with it since day one of our relationship.

“Do you?” Phil asks again.

I rub Noah’s back as he takes a sip of his ice water.

“I can’t say that I do,” I answer.

“You look like you do,” Josie directs at Noah, stirring some sugar into her hot coffee. I don’t know how she’s drinking that when it’s over ninety degrees out, but to each their own.

Noah clears his throat, face red from coughing and the heat. He glances at me, and his face turns a deeper red, almost tomato-ish.

“Do you?” I question him.

“I do,” he admits sheepishly. “The younger guys on the team have talked about it.”

I figured that would be his answer. I’ve been around hockey guys for a long time now, and I know men talk in locker rooms. I’ve heard some of it, and the rookies are usually the ones who bring up sex or the people they’ve slept with.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I don’t know if that’s approp—”

“Oh, nonsense.” Phil cuts Noah off. “We’re at an intimacy retreat. As we’ve told you before, we come here at least once a year. We’ve discovered so many new things about ourselves and how we deepen our relationship through exploring kinks together.”

Josie kisses Phil’s cheek before looking back at us. “It’s true.”