Page 293 of Faking the Goal

"What?"

"I've heard them during games." I shrug. "They practically drool every time you guys stretch."

He blinks once.

"I don't get it."

He studies me for a second, his expression completely unreadable. Then... a slow smile appears.

"Come here."

"What?"

He holds out a gloved hand.

"Come on."

"...Why?"

"I have to demonstrate it to you so you'd see why they stare."

I still don't understand why I have to be on the ice for that, but curiosity wins.

With a resigned sigh, I step carefully onto the ice, immediately reaching for his hand before gravity has the chance to humble me.

He steadies me without a word, his fingers wrapping around mine as he slowly guides me a few feet away from the boards.

"What exactly are you—"

My words die in my throat when one of his hands slides from mine to my waist.

I suck in a sharp breath.

He's suddenly so close.

Close enough that I can see the tiny flecks of green hidden inside his hazel eyes. Close enough that I catch the familiar scent of his body wash beneath the crisp chill of the rink. Close enough that, before I can stop myself, my gaze slips to his lips...

...and immediately betrays me with the memory of those same lips moving over every inch of my body the other night, leaving no part of me untouched and far too many places still tingling at the thought.

Heat blooms across my cheeks.

Kentaro says nothing.

He simply watches me for a second, the corners of his mouth twitching like he knows exactly where my mind just wandered.

Then, with one arm still secure around my waist, he slowly bends his knees.

"Ken-chan..."

My laugh bounces around the empty rink as he gently lowers me onto the ice with him, careful not to let me slip. A second later, I'm lying flat on my back, staring up at the arena lights while he's kneeling beside me.

I look up at him, laughing.

"What are you doing?"

A mischievous gleam dances in his eyes.

"You wanted to know what's so appealing about hockey warm-ups, right?"