Page 43 of Icebound

The question has me straightening. Nina doesn’t owe me a damn thing, but here she is, willing to give me something. In a world where coaches, fans, journalists, pretty much everyone demands things from me, her question feels like a gift.

“Yeah, have her bring it to family dinner,” Patty adds, wiggling his brows. He’s worse than Rowyn, meddling in my life.

“Alright, fine,” I say, watching the clock. We’ve only got five minutes. “That’d be great, thanks.”

“Fucking hell,” Cruz mutters, grabbing his stick. “We’re gonna lose this game now, aren’t we? Come on, let’s go get railed.”

My teammates start filing out of the locker room, and Nina shifts her focus to me, softening. “Don’t let Micah get to you. I’ve seen you play. You don’t need a good luck charm to win. You got this, Rhode.”

And with that piece of encouragement, she clicks off the phone. I stare at my screen, waiting for it to light up with her name again. Now that I know she’ll be watching, my senses sharpen, each nerve buzzing as I channel the adrenaline thrumming through my veins.

“I like her already.” Patty slaps my back. “You’re in so much trouble with that one.”

I grab my helmet, feeling the familiar weight in my hands. “Yeah. Don’t I fucking know it.”

11

NINA

“And with three goals scored in the last period, the Guardians manage to pull off one of the biggest comebacks in NHL history, which is nothing short of a hockey miracle!” the announcer screams on the TV. “No one’s talking about Tremblay’s retirement now.”

“Holy shit, they did it!” I leap up from the bar stool, careful not to spill my virgin mojito. “Did you not see that, Gwen?”

My heart’s racing more than the time we went skydiving for my eighteenth birthday, which I did mostly to prove to myself I could. Never again. “Rhode’s not just the Wall of Steel. He’s the Great Wall of Steel.”

Gwen sips her martini. “Sorry, but that was an atrocious joke.”

“Really? I thought it was hilarious.”

After the game ends, Micah FaceTimes me again. Despite the celebration in the locker room, Rhode gives Micah the saltiest glare I’ve ever seen before he swiftly exits the screen. I have no idea what he’s so mad about because he played amazing.

“Hey, Phil,” Micah says. “Guess what? We played our best period this season with you watching, so you’re our good luck charm now. You know what that means, right?”

“No, what?”

He wiggles his dark brows. “You’re icebound.”

“What? Icebound?”

“Yeah. Means you’re bound by the rituals of the hockey gods like us, so you have to watch all our games. We need our good luck charm to keep winning.”

“You don’t need me. That was all you guys.”

I laugh at his over-the-top antics, but I can’t stop grinning. I don’t actually believe I’m their good luck charm, but who cares? Let people believe what they want.

After saying goodbye, Gwen and I leave the bar together. I don’t consider myself a die-hard Guardians fan by any means, but over the course of the next week, I start watching their games.

And I’m not alone.

Surprisingly, Gwen grabs the fancy wine from the fridge, and I boil some peppermint tea, and then we cheer from the living room. There’s still some resentment lingering between us, but every game, we drift closer and closer to each other on the couch.

By the time Friday rolls around, I’m actually excited to see the guys despite having trudged to Rhode’s luxury downtown high-rise in the dreary late February rain.

I normally don’t like being in new places because it’s overstimulating, but knowing an old familiar face will be there calms some of my nerves. Well, that and my anti-anxiety medication.

I knock on his apartment door. With a jolt, the gilded 72 suddenly swings open, and there’s Rhode, glaring down at me while gripping the doorframe like some brooding hockey god that just rolled out of bed. He’s wearing gray sweatpants hanging low, precariously low, on his hips, and he’s shirtless.

My jaw falls.