Sleet Sugar by S.J. Tilly

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

IZZY

“Y

ou guys,” Steph uses the most dramatic voice she can muster, “this is just like the Candyman game last year!”

Meghan starts singing the chorus, entirely out of tune, while Katelyn tries to shush her, to no avail.

Steph is sort of right. Just like that now famous Kiss Cam turn Candyman game, all four of us are sitting together. The similarities end there though. Unlike last time, tonight we’re seated two rows up from the ice, just a few spots down from the Sleet penalty box.

Dad let me pick which seats I wanted. There weren’t a lot of choices, but when I saw these I knew I had to have them. I’ll never tell the girls that’s why I picked them, but since Zach is bound to end up sitting in the box at some point tonight I’ll get to have him close to me.

To be fair, as the Enforcer, aggression is one of his main roles on this team, even if it is an unofficial title. And even though I try to deny it, every time I see him throw a punch, it sends heat right to the center of me. It’s a twisted, primal feeling that I should hate, but I can’t get enough. It doesn’t make any sense, and I’m terrified that he’ll get hurt, but seeing him be so… male… it gets to me.

And sometimes, at night, when I’m alone, craving his touch... I’ll close my eyes and pretend it’s me he’s defending. That it’s my honor he’s protecting. That he’d do anything to keep me safe. Because that’s what he does for me. He makes me feel safe. I think that’s one of the biggest reasons I’m afraid of dating him, and having it fall apart. I fear how much it would hurt to have someone who makes me feel so safe be the same one who breaks my heart.

“I heard you had a fun date the other night,” Katelyn nudges my arm.

I turn to glare at Meghan who’s sitting on my other side.

“What?” she says, offended.

“Just how long did you wait before you told her about the O in the arcade?” I ask.

“What O?” Katelyn and Steph ask at the same time.

Meghan chuckles. “I didn’t say shit about that. I just told them you had your panties all up in a twist about the age of the men we met.”

I blush. Shit. “You say men. I say boys.”

“You got it on with the little boy in the arcade?” Katelyn asks.

“Jesus crap! Don’t say it like that!” I frantically look around, hoping that no one heard Katelyn’s question.

Meghan laughs. “Nope, she wasn’t with the young man.”

“Then who?”

Katelyn and Steph are both staring at me. I bite my lip and glance at the ice, where the teams are warming up.

“Zach?!” Katelyn and Steph are really in sync tonight.

“Would you keep it down?” I scold.

“But how…?”

“That’s a great question. I don’t know how Zach knew where I’d be.” I huff.

“And?” Katelyn prods.

“And what?”

She rolls her eyes. “And how did you go from being on a date with this younger dude, to riding Zach’s dick?”

“I did not…” I sputter, looking around again.

“They didn’t have sex, she just got herself off riding his lap in the photo booth,” Meghan tells them, way too casually.

I groan and slump in my seat, wondering if I should just slide to the floor and wait for the conversation to pass.

Katelyn fans herself. “That’s hot.”

“Was the camera going off?” Steph asks.

“That’s what I asked!” Meghan grins, reaching up to mime a high-five.

Meghan and Steph are on opposite ends of our foursome. Knowing them, they’ll start shouting inappropriate things to each other if they aren’t stopped.

“Can we table this discussion, please?” I plead.

“Fine. But does this mean you’re going to go out with him now?” Katelyn looks hopeful.

I feel like the more I have to explain myself, the more I sound ridiculous, and the more likely I am to cave.

Luckily Meghan answers for me. “No, she’s going to some sissy paint by numbers bullshit class with some geriatric loser from her last job.”

I stare at Meghan, mouth open.

She shrugs.

“Oo, yes. I can see why that’d be more appealing than rolling around in bed with Zachary Hunt,” Katelyn drawls.

I elbow her.

As if he heard us summon him, Zach stops right in front of where we’re sitting, his back to the glass and starts to stretch.

I haven’t talked to him since I bolted from the bowling alley. So there’s no way for him to know where I’m seated. It’s got to be a coincidence that he stopped here. But as the players start to filter off the ice, Zach turns and looks directly at me. I feel my heart still, then gallop. He holds my gaze for a beat longer than appropriate before turning and skating to the exit ramp.

I hear the girls snicker around me, and I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. This is going to be a long season.

The topic gets changed and I can take the time to calm my blood down as we wait for the game to start. The seats are filling up with a nearly sold-out crowd. It’ll be like this for every home game for the whole season. It’s a great feeling - having this many fans in one place, cheering and booing and building up the energy of the players.

The group in the row in front of us is entirely made up of women. I think it’s a bachelorette party; there's a woman in the middle wearing a white sash, and they all seem quite inebriated, even though the game has yet to start. Seems like a strange place to come, but if they’re hockey fans then I guess why not. I enjoy watching the hot guys sweat, so from that aspect it could be considered a normal pre-wedding activity.

Looking at them closely, I think they are all younger than me. My age at most. I hate that I feel a twinge of jealousy over that. I don’t know them. I don’t know who the bride is marrying. He might be an asshole, so I shouldn’t be jealous.

Which is a terrible thing to think. I shouldn’t wish that on anyone. I hope he’s a nice guy. I hope she’s happy.

Then she unfurls her sign, and I instantly switch back to hating her.

It seems as though the entire group of drunk whores is interested in the same guy. My guy. Their signs are vulgar, rude, and inappropriate. I want to yank them from their stupid hands, rip them up into a thousand little pieces, set those pieces on fire, and then make them eat the ashes.

Realizing I’ve accidently smashed my box of Junior Mints, I get even madder.

“Woah, Killer,” Meghan puts her hand on my arm.

“Do you see that?” I’m trying to whisper, but it’s coming out as an angry hiss.

“Oh, I see it. Kind of clever.”

I growl as I silently read the signs the girls have in their laps.

Zach, you can Hunt me anytime!

Zachary Hunt #69

Hunt, you’re on my freebie list. My fiancé’s, too.

Zachary Hunt enjoys a warm Bundt.

Roses are red, Punches from Zach, come to my house, I’ll lay on my back!

Hunt can come into my penalty box!

“Clever? It’s disgusting!” I seethe.

“Come on, you’re only saying that because those signs are about your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Exactly,” Meghan says. “So why do you care?”

I turn to Katelyn. “What would you do if those signs were about Jackson?”

“Me? I’d run them through the shredder and shove the strips down their throats one piece at a time.”

“See?” I turn back to Meghan, feeling victorious.

“Yeah. Of course she feels that way. But she’s going to marry Jackson. Because she loves him,” Meghan replies smugly.

Oh.

I feel a little lightheaded, and Meghan is smirking at me like she just proved the world’s biggest point. The lights drop, and I’m saved from thinking up a comeback as the elaborate pregame show starts.