Page 80 of Thin Ice

Quinn cups my cheek. “Your hair looks perfect, by the way.” She fingers the collar of the dark-green short-sleeved button-up I’m wearing. “And this green brings out your eyes.”

“I wore it because I know you love this color on me.”

“I do. Now let’s get the door before he thinks we’re standing him up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes at me and walks the short distance to the front door. I playfully spank her ass right as she opens it, making her yelp.

Beck looks between us, his posture lacking the confidence I’m used to with him.

He clears his throat. “Am I interrupting?”

Quinn shakes her head. “Of course not.” She pulls him inside by the hand, and once he’s clear of the door, I shut it behind him, and the three of us stand in a triangle, staring at each other.

Beck rubs his beard. “You two look nice.”

“Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

Beck is handsome. He’s wearing a chocolate-brown linen button-up he’s rolled to his elbows to show off his thick forearms along with matching shorts that fit him perfectly. His hair is in his usual half pony, and he’s trimmed his beard for the occasion, highlighting the line of his square jaw.

His cheekbones turn pink under my wife’s attention. “Thanks,” he mutters.

“I agree.”

Beck looks me up and down. I don’t miss the way he swallows, jaw flexing when he makes his way over my arms and chest. He always did love my muscles, and I never minded when he told me so.

I decide we have to move from this spot before I think of other ways in the past that he showed me how much he loved my body and I get a boner before the night even begins. We don’t know if that is where tonight will go, anyway, and I don’t want to get ahead of myself.

Quinn and I agreed earlier at dinner that we’d just chat with him, and if more happened, we’d go with the flow naturally, like Beck had suggested.

I gesture to the living area, and Beck follows, Quinn next to him.

“Why don’t we sit?” I suggest. “We smuggled some wine in from the bar.”

“I actually don’t drink,” Beck says.

I turn to face him as he sits on the couch. “At all?”

He rubs his beard again nervously. “Been sober for years now.”

My heart pounds in my ears, and I feel sick. I think of so many reasons why that would be the case. Did he start drinking after we broke up? After his injury and his hockey career ended? Did something more happen?

“That’s fine; we have sparkling water or soda in the fridge,” Quinn interjects, her voice calm and easy, unlike mine would have been if I had spoken.

“Sparkling water is good.” He smiles at her.

I swallow down my emotions and stop Quinn before she can play hostess. “You sit, Sunshine, I’ll get it. Do you want the same?”

“Yes, please.”

She makes her way over to Beck, and my mind continues to race. I don’t know how to ask him why he’s sober, and it’s not like I deserve to know.

I pour all of us a sparkling water over ice before returning to where they’re both waiting for me. They take their drinks, Beck thanking me like he didn’t just drop a bomb.

With Quinn seated next to Beck on the couch, I take the chair across from them.

“We can trade spots if you want,” Beck suggests.