Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(42)

Like the way I keep glancing over at her stunning eyes.

Or how my gaze drifts down to her shirt and her mouth-watering tits.

Or how I can’t wait to get out on the ice despite being sore, so I can show her how to skate.

Ollie is fun to be around, and I appreciate her keeping my mind off my demons.

“So this is where we enter on game days,” I say. “And that”—I point at our logo on the wall—“that is what we tap before we enter the arena.”

“Is it a good luck thing?”

I nod. “Yeah, good luck, tradition, all of the combined.”

“And these heavy mats on the floor, is this because you wear skates?”

“Yup,” I say as we pass a few employees. I nod and smile at them.

“Do you ever stop to talk to fans?”

“Before the game, not really. I’ll toss pucks over the boards to fans after warm-ups, but conversations and autographs? No. I’ll save that for after games . . . games that we win. Coach doesn’t like us hanging out on the ice after a loss.”

“I can understand that. Good thing you win a lot, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I haven’t really paid attention to your stats.”

“Shame, I could really impress you.”

“Stats mean nothing to me. How you treat the people around you, now that’s something to talk about.”

I lead her out onto the ice. The staff has truly made something special out of the event, they always do. Half of the ice is a rink for family and friends to skate on. Covered by rugs, the other half has a mix of couches, chairs, tables, and of course, hot cocoa and s’mores stations, which are really more for the kids. Food is up in the club section. I’ve been to this event a few times with Sarah, so being here with Ollie feels slightly awkward.

“Oh wow, this is . . . this is bigger than I expected,” she says as she glances around the arena. “You play hockey here? Look at all those empty seats. Are they usually full?”

“Every home game,” I say.

“It must get loud in here.”

“Very loud, but the cheering fans only spur me on to work harder.”

“Sexy,” she coos as I take her over to the skates section. Of course, the players all have their skates on display and below them are their respective family and friends. We had to provide the team with sizes prior to arriving to make it easier.

“Mr. Taters, are you ready to skate?” the attendant asks.

“I am,” I say. “And please, call me Silas.”

“Sure thing,” she says as she retrieves the skates and hands them off to us.

“Thank you.” I guide Ollie to a couch, then kneel in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Helping you put your skates on,” I answer and then carefully slip her shoe off. When I glance up at her, I notice her cheeks are blushing. I don’t know how much of that has to do with me kneeling in front of her or the chill of the ice beneath us.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“Have you done it before?”

“No,” she answers.

“Then let me help you . . . babe.”

She chuckles. “Really going with that, aren’t you?”

I’m about to answer when I hear, “Oh my God, Pacey, look, he’s helping her with her skates.”

Winnie.

Here we go.

“Hi,” Winnie says, walking right up to us and holding her hand out. “You must be Ollie. I’m Winnie, Pacey’s fiancée.”

“Hi, Winnie,” Ollie says with a bright smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Good God, she’s gorgeous.” Winnie knees me in the side. “Potato, she’s so freaking pretty.”

Ughhhhh, Winnie.

“Potato?” Ollie asks. There it is.

“Oh yes, that’s what I call Taters. Just reminded me of a potato.” I glance up at Ollie to see her smiling from ear to ear.

“I rather like that nickname.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I mutter under my breath as I pick up her foot and help her insert it in the skate. When it’s fully in, I lace her up.

“When Pacey told me Potato was bringing you, I could not stop thinking about all the things I want to talk to you about.”

“Winnie,” Pacey says. “Give her a second to breathe.”

But Winnie takes a seat right next to Ollie and says, “How on earth did you two meet? The first time I met Silas, he was a total ass. Sure, I was crashing his guy vacation, but God, he was a tough one to break.”

“And you think you’ve broken me?” I ask with a raise of my brow.

“It’s adorable that you think I haven’t.” Winnie pats me on the head and turns back to Ollie. “So how did you two meet?”

Here we fucking go . . .

“Well, it was at a doctor’s office,” Ollie starts, and I take her other foot and slip it into the skate as I hear her tell the story of how we “met.” Pacey and Winnie are laughing the entire time.

“Dude . . . what were you doing with your penis out near the donkeys?” Pacey asks.

“My dick wasn’t out,” I groan as I stand, my muscles firing. “My fly was just down, that’s all. Right, Ollie?”