Page 87 of Ice Rebel

I could see John’s eyes in the rearview.

Damn it. Was I really considering doing this? Fuck, yes.

“Maybe you can step on it,” I told him, catching his almost instant grin.

“Happy to.”

Jagger said nothing else, which surprised the hell out of me. Honestly? It wouldn’t matter what he said at this point. I would find a way to make it to the theater. Maybe I’d do a search and see if Superman was available.

As I sat back, Hudson leaned over from across the aisle. “Get her, tiger.”

“Shut the fuck up and mind your business.” I slowly turned my head toward him, but had a grin on my face.

He threw up his hands, but I knew he wouldn’t let it go.

The hour couldn’t have gone by any more slowly. By the point of rolling into the city, I was checking my watch every two minutes. It was already eight-thirty, which meant performers had been on stage for thirty minutes. While it was only a few miles from the drop-off to the theater, I’d need to fly if there was any hope of making it.

I was already on the edge of my seat by the point we were a few miles from the parking lot, duffle in hand.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Coach Stryker said. “You have a couple well-earned days off, but you still need to practice.”

Barely listening, I was close to being short of breath.

“Go. Go. Go.”

A slow rumble of someone’s deep registered voice sounded from behind me, which I barely paid any attention to.

“Go. Go. Go.” At least two voices were involved.

Hudson lifted an eyebrow, turning so he could look behind us.

“Go. Go. Go!” Now Jagger’s voice sounded in my ear.

Boots began to stomp on the bus’s floor, the chanting continuing.

The coach dropped and shook his head and I couldn’t tell if he was frowning or enjoying me being put onto some stupid throne. I didn’t care.

John stepped on it, even swerving around a slow vehicle. By the time he pulled into the parking lot, tires were squealing.

The moment he began to roll to a stop, I was on my feet, keys in hand. And I’d be damned if the guys didn’t surprise me by staying in their seats so I could be the first one off. How fucking cool.

“Go get her,” Hudson told me just before I jumped off.

I swung a look toward Jagger. “I plan on it.” I didn’t make it ten feet before out of the blue some reporters found me.

“Mr. Kendrick. How does it feel to crush the competition?” Since when had the Seattle Wild been important enough to rate a couple of news crews hanging out at the drop zone?

Okay, sure, the Reno Cougars were owned by a couple of heavyweights, a Hollywood director and some big tech guy out of LA who also owned a major NBA franchise, but we weren’t in the NHL.

“Sorry, guys. I have another commitment.” I moved through them, checking my watch. Damn it. I had to hurry.

“The Dynamic Duo cleaned house. How do you feel about working with Jagger Black?”

“He’s a great player, but I really need to go.”

“What does your fiancée think about your social media presence?”

And there it was, the reason for being hounded. I spun around again, keeping a smile on my face. “Seriously, guys? I’m not engaged. Okay? Stop believing everything you read.”