Page 62 of Pucking Forbidden

“Uncle Wilder!” she screeches, throwing her hands up in the air.

I chuckle, stepping closer to the boards and leaning over to scoop her up. She feels like a featherweight. I hoist her up onto the ledge of the boards, and she twists around, crossing her small arms over her chest and glaring out at the ice.

“Miss Hadley is teaching babies,” Millie declares, her lower lip jutting out. “I'm a pro. Why am I not in her class? I need a private lesson, Uncle Wilder. Tell Dad.”

Owen chuckles as he trudges over. “Millie, Miss Hadley is busy teaching the learn-to-skate program. You already know how to skate.”

“But she's cooler than my coach,” Millie insists, turning her fierce green eyes on her dad. She tosses her head back, her ponytail of red curls bouncing. “Dad, if you say no, I’m just going to talk to Coach. He’s her gramps. He’ll make her coach me.”

“Don't you dare go over my head to the head coach, young lady,” Owen warns, while fighting a massive smile. He starts unlacing her skates to remove them. “Come on, menace. Time to go. Your mom is waiting.”

Millie gasps. Her eyes go wide. “No! Dad, we have to go to the store first. For our weekly ice cream sundaes. Henry wants one.” She pats her stomach, attempting a serious expression. “He told me he wants chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“Oh, your infant brother told you that, did he?” Owen laughs, shaking his head. He looks up at me, giving me a knowing, subtle nod toward the ice where Hadley is currently skating back and forth. “We're heading out, man. Don't stay here all night.”

“See ya, Uncle Wilder! Tell Miss Hadley I'm her new best friend!” Millie yells as Owen slings her over his other shoulder like a sack of potatoes, her little legs kicking in the air as they head toward the lobby doors, her skates dangling from his other hand.

I watch them leave, a quiet laugh shaking my chest, until the heavy doors click shut.

Then, the arena grows quiet. I linger by the boards, the silence rushing back into the chilly space, broken only by the rhythmic, hollow scritch-hiss of sharp blades cutting through ice. Hadley is moving around the perimeter, bending down with effortless grace to pick up the orange cones scattered across the surface. She’s focused on her task, her breath pluming in small, white clouds in front of her. It doesn’t seem like she’s noticed me yet. I lean against the boards and just watch her.

She skates over to the boards, pulling off her gloves as she talks to another instructor. At last, she looks up and spots me. She freezes for half a second, then her face lights up with a huge smile. Waving, she excitedly skates to where I’m standing.

“What are you doing here?” she asks with a laugh.

I shrug, like I didn’t just spend the last thirty minutes watching her like a hawk. “I came over with Owen.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen. “You’ve been watching my lesson?”

I nod. “Some of it, yeah.”

Her cheeks turn pink, and she lets out a groan, then a nervous chuckle. “That’s…okay, that’s kind of intimidating. Having a pro watching my first class.”

“You were good,” I assure her with a smile.

She studies me for a second, biting her bottom lip. My eyes are drawn to the motion, and heat unfurls deep in my belly. She’s got such soft-looking lips. What would they feel like against mine? The image of them parted as her breath slips past them in needy pants suddenly pops into my mind, and my cock twitches. Fuck, what am I thinking! I shove the image away as quickly as I can, but the heat in my body continues pulsing through me.

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice anything as she murmurs, “Thanks.”

“You look like you're officially off the clock.” I grin and arch a brow. “Are you done working for the day?”

“Just finished,” she breathes, a proud, tired smile curving her lips. “The marshmallow crew took a lot out of me, but they survived.”

“They did more than survive; you were incredible out there,” I say, keeping my voice steady despite the way my chest is tightening just being this close to her. I clear my throat, pushing past the sudden spike of nerves. “So… since you survived your first official day on the job, I was thinking we should celebrate. Let me take you out to get some food.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence after that as I struggle to get my body under control, and she appears to be trying to figure out what to say next.

“Give me like ten minutes?” she finally asks. “I need to change, and then we can go.”

“No problem,” I nod.

“I’ll meet you out front.”

“Alright.” I manage to keep my voice steady as I will my cock to calm down.

Thankfully, she disappears toward the locker rooms the next moment, and I turn, quickly heading back out to the lobby to wait. Getting away from her helps my body relax, and my semi-stiffy retreats.

Shit, I’m like a horny teenager. Get a grip, motherfucker. Remember, off-limits. Just a friend.