Iced Out (Leighton U #1)(103)

“I severely doubt that.”

“Well, considering you didn’t tip it, I’d say yes.”

My mouth drops open slightly. “You’re kidding.”

Another shake of the head. “Hand on heart, I don’t think I made it more than twenty yards before I toppled over. Granted, I was sixteen, but still.”

Laughter erupts between us, and he reaches up, thumb caressing my cheek where I’m smiling. I fight the urge to lean into it, but it’s almost impossible.

His touch still manages to light my skin on fire the same way that dimpled grin sends my heart into a tailspin. The same way his eyes tell me he loves me, even if the words don’t leave his lips.

My phone rings, cutting through our silence, and a quick glance at it reveals Louis’s name on the screen.

“Always ruining a moment,” Quinn mutters, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. “But you should probably take it.”

I know I should. Louis never calls us unless it’s something important—usually concerning our contracts or some other legal crap—which is exactly why I answer the damn thing as quickly as possible.

“Louis,” I say in a way of greeting.

“Oakley,” Louis’s voice comes from through the speaker. “You got a minute?”

“Wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t.”

He sighs on the other end of the line. “I see that boyfriend of yours is a wonderful influence on your attitude,” he notes, exasperation clear in his tone. “I’ll make it quick. Do you want the good news or bad news first?”

My stomach might as well have dropped off the edge of the Empire State Building. “Bad news. Always.”

Quinn’s brows furrow, clearly picking up on my panicked and slightly agitated state. Which only gets worse when Louis says the three words I was dreading most.

“You’ve been traded.”

Instantly, my entire world tilts on its axis, my heart making its way into my throat. I suffocate on it as I gape over my shoulder at Quinn, completely at a loss for words.

He’s off the bike in an instant, eyes checking me over as if the news Louis just told me caused physical damage.

“What’s going on?” he whispers.

“I was traded,” I murmur more to myself than anyone else, shock taking over and making me just…numb.

“What?” Quinn asks, and I can see a small amount of anger setting a crease in his brow. “How is that possible? I thought Philly drafting you locked you into a contract?”

“I thought so too.” I’m at a complete loss, my stomach rolling and twisting, ready to revolt. “Louis, how is this even possible? Is there some clause or something that—”

“Would the two of you shut up so I can tell you the rest of the information?” Louis snaps, breaking through our conversation. “Jesus, I should have known not to sign the two of you together. Now you’re gonna be even more of a pain in my ass than normal after this news breaks.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Quinn asks before I have the chance to.

Louis ignores him. “How do you feel about New York?”

That’s enough to snap me out of my stupor. “It’s fucking great, but you’re about to send me off to some far end of the continent so I don’t understand why you’d sit here and rub in the fact that—”

“Oakley. With all due respect, shut up.”

My mouth drops open, then snaps back closed while Quinn chokes back a laugh.

“Great. Now ask me where you’re going.”

The urge to vomit is real when I whisper, “Where am I going?”

I wait for the words California or Denver or heaven forbid somewhere in fucking Canada to come barreling out of his mouth.

“New York.”

I didn’t hear him right, because I swear to God I heard him say—

“New York?” I repeat, my gaze locking with Quinton’s. The second the words leave my lips, his eyes might as well bug out of his head, and he grabs the phone out of my hand, switching Louis to speaker.

“Surely you’re joking,” comes from Quinn, whose eyes haven’t left mine. “And if you are, you’re fucking fired because that shit isn’t funny.”

“Well, hello to you too, Quinton,” Louis says, and I can almost see the smirk on his face at Quinn’s threat. If there’s anyone else on this planet who can handle my boyfriend’s temperamental side, it’s Louis.

“Cut the shit. Is this real?”

“You know I can’t be discussing another player’s contract—”

“Louis.” Quinton seethes into the receiver. “Is. This. Real?”

“Quinton—”

“Just answer the question, Louis. Please,” I snap, my temper wearing thin.

Another chuckle comes from him. “Yes, it’s real. You’ve been traded to New York, effective immediately.”

Quinn and I are both rattled from his bombshell as we gape at each other.

Somehow, I find my voice through the shock. “How is this possible?”

A disembodied scoff comes from the phone, floating into the space between Quinn and I. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. I’m one of the best in the business, and when I have two NHL bound prospects who’d like to end up on the same team, I’m gonna do everything in my power to make it happen.”