Page 12 of Icebound

“What?” I ask.

She flicks a hand. “Oh, nothing. It’s just an interesting name. Is that Rhode like a road?”

I tug the end of her hair so she remembers we’re pretending. “You know it was my mom’s maiden name. I told you that last week.”

“So, it is you?” the guy asks.

There’s no hiding from her now. With a shrug stiff enough to creak, I grip the guy’s hand. “Yeah, I am. Nice to meet you.”

He shakes my hand so vigorously, it’s like he’s jacking off. “Holy shit. Isaac James. I’m a big fan. Huge fan. That save you made during the playoffs last year against Seattle was unreal. I swear it defied the laws of physics, and I wrote my Ph.D. dissertation on Newton's laws of motion. Fucking legendary, man.”

Nice guy. “Thanks, that save was a beauty.”

Nina whips her head between us. “Okay, I’m confused now. How do you know Rhode?”

Isaac blinks like she asked if the Earth’s square and that look instantly puts me on edge. “He’s the goalie for the Guardians? The Wall of Steel? The man with a two-point-five-one GAA and a zero-point-nine-two save percentage. I swear, this guy never gets rattled on the ice.”

Yeah, but he doesn’t see all the ice baths I have to take to soothe my aching muscles. I’m going to need lower back surgery soon. I might’ve won the Vezina Trophy for my skills five years ago, but it’s getting tough to keep my game sharp.

Sometimes, retirement sounds like a dream, but I’d never admit that out loud.

Nina quirks her head. “What are you saying? Rhode’s a pl—”

“Player.” I give her waist a light squeeze so she gets the point. “I’m a hockey player, but you know that, remember?”

She balks like I told her I’m a world-renowned serial killer. Not the reaction I expected. Most women toss their birth control pills out the window when I tell them I’m an NHL player.

Isaac’s head bounces between us like a puck passed around on the ice. “So, how do you two know each other?”

Nina clears her throat. “Rhode and I were on a date when the tire exploded. He saved my life and that boy’s, Gabriel.”

I like that she remembered Gabriel’s name, but what I don’t like is how she pats my chest in the same way my sister does. If we’re supposed to be dating, that’s not going to work.

I interlace my fingers through hers, pressing my mouth to her cool knuckles. Her lips part, and I think her breath hitches, which has me fighting back a grin.

She really is one cute doctor.

And damn, that’s impressive as hell.

“No, you’re the real hero. That was some quick thinking with the cold brew. You were right,” I whisper, scratching my stubble against her soft cheek. “Women’s brains are bigger.”

Isaac splutters, struggling to get his words out. “You’re dating Rhode Tremblay? But you hate hockey?”

My thumbs freeze. I hadn’t realized they’d been tracing slow circles on her waist. “You hate hockey? Do you also hate cats and sunshine?”

She jabs her elbow into my ribs, but I’ve taken worse hits on the ice. “You know I don’t hate hockey. We talked about this. I’m not a big sports person. That’s why I wanted to go to that naked yoga studio for our first date instead of the ice rink.”

Naked yoga?

My mind flashes to all the other tattoos she might have hidden on her body, but I shake off the thought. A woman’s sneeze is enough to get me half-hard these days.

Pathetic, but true.

“How could I forget?” Maintaining a straight face requires every ounce of willpower, but I flash her a smirk. The same one that started the Tenerife Threesome Incident. “Remember what happened after?” I murmur, brushing my stubble against her cheek like I would if my head were buried between her thighs. “In the steam room? With the eucalyptus oil?”

She arches a brow. “Oh, I remember. I had no idea you could do that with your toes.”

My smirk disappears. “My toes? No. I think you meant my hands. You had no idea what I could do with my hands.”