Here's the sequel to "The Ice, The Game, The Touch." Again, this is all made up and I have no idea what these players are like in real life.
Happy Reading!
M. ;)
***
"I am
not
superstitious!" he hollered as he exited the locker room following the game. The door didn't swing shut before he heard the responding hoots of laughter from his teammates.
Scowling, he turned away and jerked his ball cap further down on his head. The small figure of a woman halted him before he could stalk away in a huff. Instantly the scowl faded from his face and his tense muscles relaxed. She merely quirked a dark eyebrow at him and turned away.
"Wait a minute!" he called and laughed when she didn't stop; in fact, she picked up her pace. He quickly caught up with her, his longer legs easily eating up the distance she'd tried to put between them. "Why are you running away from me, Amelia?" he asked as he drew alongside her.
"Am I running?" she replied, a response that exasperated him even as it kept the smile on his face.
"No, not by my standards," he agreed.
"Oh, what was that?" she asked as she stopped and turned to face him. "Was that a crack about my height? Really? Is that all you've got?"
He just grinned and, heedless of the onlookers, he caught her in his arms, silencing her with a kiss. She bent against him, yielding to his arms and he savored her sigh as they parted. She grumbled at him as he released her and turned to continue stalking away from him. He threw a sheepish grin at the men and women standing by observing, but after all these weeks, most of them were used to the sight of Amelia arguing with the captain.
He jogged to catch up to Amelia again, but he reached her just as they both approached the curtain leading to the press area. She stopped short of going out there, still not used to the media firestorm that followed her boyfriend around. He looked down at her with a smile, hoping it was enough to placate her.
"Is this going to take long?" she asked, jerking her chin towards the curtain separating them from the press corps.
"Why are you in such a hurry tonight?" he asked, moving closer so that loomed over her; something he knew she both enjoyed and disliked.
She tilted her head back and fixed her emerald gaze on his face. Not for the first time, he felt his heart speed up and found himself short of breath. Without saying anything, she reached up and cupped his cheek, drawing his face down close to hers.
"I'm in a hurry to get you alone, Sean Carson," she murmured and abruptly released him, walking away.
He stared after her, feeling his face flush and cursing her silently for leaving him like that right before facing the reporters.
Oh, he'd get his revenge later.
***
Even though she knew about and understood the attention he received in his position, Amelia still found it difficult to be around him. She had dealt with the initial flurry over their relationship and as the weeks passed, and most people realized she wasn't just a hockey groupie, they mostly left her alone. She was doubly glad now that she had maintained her pen name and managed to keep her professional life separate from her personal life. Even her family had backed off after she'd repeatedly told them they had nothing to worry about.
After leaving Sean to face the reporters, Amelia walked around and stood behind the press corps, watching with a tiny smile as Sean took his seat. It was now past Christmas and everyone was already starting to talk about the playoffs.
As she watched and listened, Amelia was impressed yet again with the way Sean handled the press. He spoke clearly and sounded sure of himself, pausing occasionally to give extra thought before replying to a question. It was obvious how much the press enjoyed talking to him. Amelia knew they'd lost the game, a game against a team they'd soundly defeated on many previous match-ups. Still, Sean remained calm and didn't get upset by some of the more pointed questions.
Then someone broached the topic of their relationship and Sean was, for the first time, abrupt.
"Sean, can you tell us if your guests in the crowd tonight may have affected your game?" someone asked.
Amelia desperately wanted to shrink away to nothing. She despised questions about her or about the two of them being together. She didn't think she could ever get used to being a topic for press conferences.
Sean shrugged the question off, saying that he and the other players didn't really see the crowd. They played the game and tried to focus as best as they could.
At last, the reporters released him and Sean all but ran from them. Amelia would have laughed had she not been standing alone. Instead she covered her mouth with her hand and turned away before they all spotted her. She didn't want to face any questions after that interview. She hurried away, keeping her face carefully neutral and trying to look just like any other fan.
"Gotcha!" someone hissed in her ear as a familiar strong hand closed around her arm.
She couldn't stop the shriek of surprise at Sean's sudden appearance. He laughed out loud, completely unbothered by the people looking their way.
"You jerk!" she yelped and whirled around to punch him in the shoulder as hard as she could.
"Go easy on him, Lia," someone called as he walked by.
Amelia turned to see Max Tournet, one of Sean's teammates walk by. He was grinning and winked at her as she faced him.
"He's had a rough night already," Max added. "You should get him home and rub some A5-35 into his joints."
"How about you rub this, Max?" Sean replied, making a rude gesture at his teammate.
Max laughed and walked away with a wave.
Amelia turned and smacked Sean again. He looked down at her with a wounded expression on his face and Amelia sighed. They both knew she couldn't stay upset with him when he gave her that look. He saw her relenting and that knee-quivering grin spread across his face, making Amelia feel short of breath.
"Your place tonight?" He drew her close and tucked her against his side.
Amelia felt her face flush hot and looked away. She walked alongside him, loving the way he slowed his pace and shortened his strides to accommodate her. She also loved the way he smelled after coming out of the locker room; a tangy mixture of sweat and fresh soap and man. If she was being honest with herself, she was head over heels for this young hockey star.
They walked quietly out to the parking lot and her car. After the first couple weeks of trailing after the team to their games, Amelia had decided it might be a good investment to find a place to live in Pittsburgh and buy a car of her own. She had enough money in her savings to take care of that and come summer, she'd figure something else out. Neither of them had touched on that subject yet; her, because she was afraid of where the conversation might lead them, and him, because he didn't like to talk about anything beyond the regular season. Which reminded her about something.
"So what was all that about when you came out of the locker room?" she asked as she drove through the streets away from the arena.
"What do you mean?"
"When you came out of the locker room, you were shouting something about superstition," Amelia elaborated and glanced sideways at him.
Sean sighed and lifted his cap to scrub a hand through his dark hair. "Oh, it was nothing. The guys were just giving me a hard time."
"Sean, everyone knows that you're the most superstitious guy on the team," she said with a laugh. "There's nothing wrong with that."
Sean looked over at her and lifted his eyebrows. "What do you mean, 'everyone?'"
"I mean
everyone
," she repeated. "You get the questions often enough in your interviews, I'm sure. Even I knew that and I didn't even recognize you the first time we met."
He chuckled and leaned over, stroking her cheek with one hand before planting a kiss there. "Well, that's because you were stunned by my incredible good looks and unadulterated charm."
"Hmm, that must have been it," she agreed, tilting her head and smiling when he trailed kisses down her neck.