Page 111 of Icebound

“Yeah, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“What are you going to do when she leaves?” Patty asks.

“Hell if I know.” My chest constricts. I can’t talk about that. I can’t even think about it.

Nina sprints through the glass doors with her glasses lopsided and blonde hair a mess. She’s wearing my jersey, and the sight of her instantly loosens the knot in my chest. Her eyes meet mine, and she stops. I think the planet stops spinning.

She scans my body in a clinical way like she’s checking for injuries, but I don’t want her to worry, so I hold out my good arm. “Come here. I’m fine. Just stay on my left side.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, eyes creasing with concern. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The only way you’re going to hurt me is by not being in my arms right now.”

“Fucking lame,” Cruz coughs under his breath.

Patty smacks his face.

“Thanks for that,” I say.

“Anytime.”

A sob breaks from Nina’s mouth, and then she’s running through the medical facility, barreling right between Patty and Cruz until she’s in my arms.

She buries her head in the crook of my neck, and I pull her into my chest. I probably smell disgusting after the game since I never showered, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and now I’ve got the whole world in my arms.

“Where’s my hug, Phil?” Cruz says. “Did you even notice I was in the room?”

“No, I didn’t,” she mutters into my neck.

Cruz snorts. Patty tugs him by his jersey, ushering him out of the medical facility. “Come on. Let’s give these two some privacy. We’ll be back in a few.”

They walk out the sliding glass doors, leaving me alone with Nina, which is exactly what I want. Leaning back, she places her warm hands on my cheeks and kisses every inch of my face.

“I saw what happened on TV, but I was so worried,” she says. “Cruz got me back here, but you’re okay? Right? You’re fine?”

I kiss her lips. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. It’s just a shoulder sprain. Nothing rehab won’t fix.”

She kisses me harder, like she doesn’t want to stop. “Is that what they said? All you have to do is rehab, and you’ll be back on the ice?”

“Yeah, it’s my dominant arm, so I’ll be out for a few months, but then I’ll be back next season. Ready to play.”

Her eyes narrow on my rigid expression. “Why are you smiling all stiff like that? You don’t sound happy. Isn’t this good news? You’re not out for good, right? You can go for the Cup again next year?”

I want to grin at the way she shortened the Stanley Cup like we all do, but I can’t get my lips to move. “No, you’re right. I hate that I’m being taken out of the playoffs, but it could’ve been a lot worse, so I guess it’s a good thing.”

“You sound like you’re convincing yourself.” Her eyes scan my face, catching on the little cuts I know are there. She pulls me closer, and I can’t help but lean into her chest as she cradles my head, stroking my hair. The pain ebbs. I could fall asleep in her arms.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, Rhode. I want you to be real. No bullshit.”

I sigh into the crook of her neck and press a quick, grateful kiss to the skin below her ear. “I’m so tired. Everything hurts, but I can’t retire. I can’t let my team down, and it needs to be on my terms. There are some players that go well into their forties. Gretzky didn’t retire until thirty-eight.”

She gives me a flat look, pulling back. “He was a center. You’re a goalie. That’s a lot harder on your body, Rhode. You’ve got pucks flying at you and all that extra gear, and you’re on the ice for the entire game.”

My brows soar, and I grin a bit. My girl’s picked up on a few things. “Alright, Brodeur played twenty-two seasons before he retired.”

“Nice try.” She taps my nose. “He’d been demoted to the Blues number three goalie. Do you really want to go out of the League as a backup? Because my guess is you don’t. If you play into your forties, that’s what will happen.”

Well, damn.