The Definition of Icing: A Dallas Demons Hockey Romance (Dallas Demons Series) (23 page)

Chapter 31

Hard crack stage: When cooking sugar syrups, and you reach 300-310F, if you drop the syrup into cold water, it will break into brittle threads
—
Kenley

“You’re not going to want to hear this, but I refuse to let you throw what you have with Nate in the trash,” Amanda says sharply. “I’m going to tell you the truth, and I’m sorry if it hurts you, but I’ll be dammed if you are going to lose Nate over this.”

I swallow hard. As soon as Nate hung up, I cracked. My heart shattered into a million threads. I was crying so hard Lexi heard, and she rushed in to see what had happened. As I was trying to get the story out past my hysterical crying, Amanda called. She forced CiCi to come over to watch the girls and she headed straight for my apartment in Uptown.

And now I’m curled up in my bed, with my best friend and my sister by my side, as they always are during a crisis.

“You’re wrong,” Amanda says bluntly. “I read that article and that’s not the Nate I know. Did you ever think he was
protecting
you? Maybe keeping your name out of the press because you guys are so new together?”

“Nate knows I can handle media,” I snap in defense.

“But he said they have it wrong, didn’t he?” Lexi adds.

I nod, as that part didn’t make sense to me either.

“Misquoted,” Amanda says. “I bet he was misquoted.”

“An entire Q&A of being misquoted?” I ask. “No. Not likely.”

“But if that’s true, why would he say all of that, knowing you’d read it? It doesn’t make sense,” Lexi says.

“I’m always wrong about men, don’t you see that, Lexi?” I cry. “I misunderstood all of his actions. I read him completely wrong.”

“Would you
shut up?
” Amanda snaps, her tone so forceful I jerk my head up. “Are you that determined to blow this up? This isn’t about what Nate said or didn’t say. This is about you being so afraid of being deceived that you can’t see straight.”

My eyes flood with tears as I take in her words.

Amanda reaches for my hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Actions
do
matter,” Amanda continues. “Sometimes more than words. You know what you mean to Nate, Kenley. You know what’s in your
heart.
Don’t listen to our screwed-up mother. Don’t you dare. Think of Nate and his actions and the things he has said. Does that sound like a man who isn’t serious about you? Let go of your past.
Let it go.
Don’t destroy your future because you’re afraid of it not being real. Believe in Nate. Believe in
yourself.
”

Amanda’s words hit me full force.

She’s right.

I’ve been so afraid of the past repeating itself that I kept waiting for it to happen. And I projected that fear right on to an article that may not even be Nate’s true words.

And I realize Nate has the same fear of repeating the past. He can’t say he loves me until he knows for sure that I love him.

He needs to hear it from me first.

“I need to tell Nate I love him,” I blurt out.

Amanda grins. “Good, because if you were going to go all proper like a woman on
Downton Abbey
and wait for Nate to make a declaration, I’d go mental.”

My phone buzzes again, and I pray it might be Nate.

I reach for it and see it’s a Connectivity private message from Holly.

“It’s his sister,” I say, my heart pounding.

Amanda and Lexi exchange a look.

I read the message:

Kenley I’m so sorry. After we talked in the suite I tried to get my statement retracted by the reporter at Dallas Details. She assured me she’d do it, but she didn’t. I’m so wrong. Nate is furious. He says the article is a hatchet job. Please, forgive me. Please! Nate loves you. I know he does. Especially now.

I pass the phone to Amanda and Lexi, who both gasp when they read it.

“He was telling me the truth,” I whisper, guilt consuming me. “And I didn’t believe him.”

I choke back a torrent of tears with this thought.

“You both had fear interfering in this,” Amanda says wisely. “And Nate didn’t break up with you. He just said he wanted to talk to you in person.”

“Message him,” Lexi encourages. “Don’t let this wait.”

I shake my head. “He needs to sleep and be focused on the game tomorrow. His head has to be there. I’ll tell him when he gets home.”

Determination fills me. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell Nate I love him, in every way I can think of, tomorrow night. He will have no doubt how deep my feelings are for him, and that I’ll love him forever if he will let me. I realize my biggest fear isn’t of misreading Nate, not anymore.

My biggest fear is losing him.

And I refuse to let that happen.

I anxiously watch the game Friday night, wishing it would move faster. Because the sooner the Demons can beat the St. Louis Blaze, the sooner Nate will be home.

Nate hasn’t had his best game, and I can’t help but think that’s because of me. Right now, the score is tied 1-1, with Harrison scoring the only goal for the Demons.

“You okay?” Lexi asks.

I nod. “I want the Demons to score. I want it to be over.”

“I know you’re anxious to see him,” Lexi says, shifting her gaze back to our TV. “But I still don’t think a message would hurt. He’ll see it after the game, you know.”

“No. The first time I tell him I love him isn’t going to be in a text message,” I say firmly.

Just then, Nate’s line skates onto the ice in a line change.

“Come on, Nate!” Lexi yells at the TV.

Nate chases after a Blaze defender. I watch as Nate moves swiftly across the ice, checking a Blaze player into the board near the Demons’ bench. But the Blaze player loses his balance, and as he falls he kicks his skate up. All of a sudden the blade of the skate rips across Nate’s torso. I watch in horror as Nate screams and drops to the ice holding his stomach.

“
Nate!
” I scream in anguish. “Oh my God, Nate!”

But I see nothing but Nate crumpled on the ice.

And he’s not getting up.

Chapter 32

The Definition of Icing: A delicious, sweet coating for baked goods. Like iced sugar cookies
—
Kenley

The Definition of Icing: Not sweet. When the puck is shot into the other end from behind the center red line and the opposing player gets to the face-off circle first — Nate

Dallas Demons’ trainers rush to attend to Nate, getting down on each side of him, trying to examine his injury. Harrison is standing over him, his face etched in concern, the same expression worn by his line mates, which terrifies me.

“Oh my God,” I gasp. I feel the blood drain from my face, and I begin to shake.

Nothing but pure panic takes over. I can’t hear what the announcers are saying about Nate over the pounding of my heart in my ears. What if he’s cut ligaments or nerves or worse, what if he lacerated an artery?

Nate could be in serious trouble.

Please be okay,
I will him.
Please, please.

But then Nate goes to his knees, with the trainers continuing to work on his abdomen.

“He’s up, that’s good, that’s good,” Lexi reassures me, squeezing my hand tight in encouragement.

My phone is ringing nonstop. I have no doubt it’s Kylie or Amanda, who must have seen the accident, but I don’t care.

Nothing matters except for Nate.

He has to be okay.

He has to be.

The trainers get Nate up, and he skates to the bench. Nate lifts his jersey and reveals a huge, gruesome gash across his lower stomach, one that appears to be at least six inches long.

Nausea floods me the second I see the horrible cut. The trainers appear to be applying something to it with swabs and a gel.

“Kenley, he’s okay,” Lexi says firmly. “They didn’t even take him back to the dressing room. They aren’t even
stitching
it. It’s superficial.”

I realize Lexi is right. And then I notice Nate is arguing with the team doctors and gesturing frantically at the ice.

“No,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “He can’t go back out there. He just got sliced with a blade!”

As the trainers work on sealing his cut, I see two shift changes occur, and Nate appears pissed.

He’s hell-bent on going back out there,
I think.
I know he is.

And within five minutes, on the next shift Harrison’s line takes, Nate’s back on the ice, next to his captain.

Fear grips me.

“How can he do this?” I ask Lexi in anguish. “He’s
vulnerable.
He could further injure himself. How can the Demons let him back out there?”

But the second I ask the question, I realize I know the answer.

That’s who Nate
is.
No matter how badly he’s been hurt, whether in hockey or his heart, he
survives
it. He’s a warrior, and he’s going to fight through this until he gets the result he wants.

Nate knows the risk he’s taking by going back out into the game. Just like he knew the risk he was taking with his heart by falling for me.

And just like that, I know my truth.

When it’s something Nate’s
passionate
about, when it’s something he
loves,
he will risk everything for it. Like hockey.

Like me.

Nate was willing to risk his heart, to be vulnerable once again, because he fell in love with me.

Tears fill my eyes. I watch my man skate across the ice, at full speed, as if nothing at all had happened to him a mere five minutes ago.

I see Harrison move out ahead with the puck, and I know he’s looking for Nate. Nate breaks ahead, down the left-hand side of the ice, and Harrison passes the puck to him. Nate goes around a defender, rips his stick back, and sends the puck sailing over the Blaze goalie’s shoulder, hitting the top back corner of the net. The light immediately goes off, signaling a goal.

Lexi and I both leap to our feet, screaming in celebration.

“Top shelf!” Lexi screams, hugging me.

I watch as a huge smile passes over Nate’s face. He yells and pumps his fist, and his teammates swarm him in congratulations. My phone is blowing up again, no doubt with more messages from Amanda and Kylie, but I’ll return them later.

Because right now, the only thing I can think of is Nate.

And how I’m going to make things right with him the second he gets home tonight.

Marabou studies me from his dog bed, head tilted, and I’m sure if he could speak, he would ask me why the hell I was pacing Nate’s living room floor at two o’clock in the morning like a crazy woman.

“That’s because I am crazy, Marabou,” I admit, dropping down on the hardwood next to him. I pick him up and snuggle him, missing the scent of Nate’s cologne that lingers on his fur when he’s home. “I need to see your Daddy and tell him everything I should have said last week when he asked me how I felt about him.”

Tears fill my eyes, and I can’t hold them back. I left Nate a voicemail after the game, telling him I was scared to death for him, worried sick about his injury, and that I had so much more to tell him, but things I know he wouldn’t want to hear in a message on his phone.

Marabou licks the tears that have slipped down my cheeks. Nate shot me a simple text, saying he got my message, didn’t want to talk now, but would when he came home.

I bury my cheek against Marabou’s soft fur and close my eyes. All I want is to tell Nate how sorry I am for all of this. That fear was so deep in my heart it screwed up my head. That I
know
him, the man he is, and I should never have jumped to conclusions after reading that article.

But more than that, I should have been brave enough to share my feelings with him. To tell this amazing man that I love him. And it didn’t matter if he couldn’t say the words back, his heart already told me what I wanted to hear. I was just too stupid and insecure in myself not to listen to it.

“He has to forgive me,” I whisper to Marabou. “Because I can’t imagine a life without him, I can’t.”

Suddenly Marabou lifts his little head, ears cocked. He squirms in my arms. I put him down, and he runs straight to the door, barking.

My heart freezes inside my chest. 

Nate’s home.

I stand up. My legs are shaking. I bite down hard on my lower lip, using everything I have to keep from bursting into tears.

The key turns in the lock, and Nate opens the door.

I can barely see him now through my tears. Nate’s got his Louis Vuitton duffel bag slung over his shoulder, his charcoal suit jacket draped over his arm. His sky blue dress shirt is open a few buttons, and he’s never seemed more beautiful than he does to me at this moment.

Nate’s eyes lock with mine. And suddenly the accident is replaying in a loop on my head, with Nate screaming and crumpling to the ice in agony.

How not only could I have lost him due to my insecurity, to me not trusting my heart and what we had and believing that rag, but I could have lost him to the cut of a blade as well.

“Nate,” I manage to get out, “Nate, when you went down—” I pause for a moment, as I’m on the verge of falling apart, “I was so scared. If anything happened to you, if you were severely injured, if you . . .”

My voice trails off. I can’t allow my head to go there.

Through blurry eyes, I watch as he steps into his condo, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t go to pick up Marabou, which he normally does, but instead slowly walks into the kitchen, to where I’m standing. He sets his duffel bag on the island and drapes his suit jacket over a barstool.

Then he turns toward me, his deep-brown eyes locked on mine.

“I promise you I’m okay,” he says softly. “If the blade had hit inches in another direction, I could have cut an artery.”

I sob in anguish, thinking of how this could have possibly killed him.

“But,” Nate says, continuing, “I didn’t cut an artery or ligament. They used skin glue to seal it. That’s all it needed. I’ll have a scar as a reminder, but it’ll heal. And it’s the only scar like that I have.”

Confusion fills me. “What do you mean?” I ask.

I notice Nate’s eyes are filling with unshed tears. “I don’t have a scar over my heart, Kenley,” he says, his voice thick. “Not anymore. Not since I fell in love with you.”

Now I’m openly sobbing. Nate swallows hard, and I can tell he’s trying not to cry.

“Did you know that there’s a definition for icing in hockey?” Nate asks. “Just like there’s a definition for icing in confections. Our worlds are different, just like those meanings of the same word. But the second I stepped into your world at that photo shoot, into the world of this strong Texas woman with a passion for chocolate, I knew I didn’t want to leave it.

“You’re the woman I’m meant to love,” Nate continues, his voice breaking. “Not Megan. That’s why everything happened the way it did. As soon as I met you it became clear. I was destined to come to Dallas and fall in love with
you.
”

Nate takes his hand and places it over my heart. “And this is what I love about you. What’s
inside
you. You’re beautiful, Kenley. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But it’s what you have on the inside that takes my breath away.”

I wrap a shaking hand over his, holding it tight, vowing never to let it go again.

“I love you, Nate,” I say, crying. “I fell in love with you right away. The man that you are. Not Nate Johansson, the famous superstar, but Nate Johansson, the
man.
And I kept this to myself because I was terrified of scaring you away. That you didn’t want to hear this from me.

“And I was scared that somehow I would be wrong,” I admit painfully. “That you could never love me like that because no man ever has.”

“Bae, I was scared, too,” Nate admits. “I should have told you how I felt. I’m so sorry I didn’t. That was my mistake. A big one. But I fell so hard and so fast, I kept thinking there’s no way she could be feeling all this so quickly, too.”

“I did,” I say. Then I pause before continuing. “Nate, about that article. I—”

“That was a fucking hack job,” Nate snaps angrily. “What you didn’t know is you were in most of those answers. That reporter cut those sentences to make me appear to be single.”

“
What?
”

“Yeah. Like when I said I was single, the complete answer was ‘I’m single, because that’s the box I have to check, but I’m in a relationship.’”

“Oh, Nate,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut.

“And I said I would be going back to Minnesota but I had to talk to my girl about it first, to make sure we worked around her schedule, because she runs a successful business. And I named it. And
you.
”

My eyes flip open. I see nothing but sincerity shining in his eyes, and I lose it.

Nate pulls me to him, and I grab him tightly, pressing my face into his chest and feeling the fabric of his dress shirt against my cheek. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nate says, wrapping his arms around me. “You didn’t know what was in my head. Neither did my sister. And I let Holly have it for that quote.”

“Nate, you didn’t have to do th—”

“Yes, I did,” Nate says, cutting me off. “Holly crossed a line with me, a big line. I love you. Nobody, including my sister, knows our relationship like
we
do, and it’s not her place to protect me or judge me or anything else that involves
us.
She’s kept saying she’s sorry, she was horribly wrong about you, and she realizes she was out of line. And she has promised me it will never happen again.”

My heart swells with emotion when I realize how much I mean to Nate and the lengths he will go to protect me, to protect
us.

To protect our truth,
I think.
Nate is protecting our love.

I clear my throat. “Nate, I had the same kind of conversation with CiCi. I told her she’s my mom, and I love her, but she’s wrong about me. That I do have good judgment, and it’s an insult for her to keep telling me I don’t. I told Mom I’m confident in you, in us, in what we have, and most of all,
myself.
I don’t need her questioning me anymore. And more to the point, I won’t tolerate it.”

Nate’s eyes widen. “You said that?”

“I did.”

Nate gazes down at me. “So we were both standing up for what we have, weren’t we?”

“We know our truth,” I say with conviction. “And nobody is going to change that.”

Nate clears his throat. “There’s another part of that article I want to talk about.”

“What’s that?”

“The part about only one person getting to my heart? That wasn’t Megan. That was
you.
”

Nate cups my face in his hands, caressing it gently with his fingertips.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much. More than I thought I could ever love anyone.”

I feel nothing but joy flood my heart.

“I love you, too,” I say, choking up.

Nate bends down and presses his lips to mine. I relish every second of his kiss, tasting him, feeling his warmth, and feeling nothing but absolute love between us.

Nate breaks the kiss and wraps his arms around my back. “This is forever. You’re it, Bae.”

“And you’re my forever, Nate,” I say happily.

Nate’s face lights up in a smile, and I’m filled with nothing but happiness from the sight of it.

“We do have some issues that need to be resolved, though,” he says, his eyes sparkling at me.

“Oh, is that right?” I say, winding my hands around the back of his neck.

“Yes. First, I want you to know you can sit in the WAGS suite anytime you want,” Nate declares. “At first, I didn’t want to introduce you too early to put pressure on you to feel something maybe you didn’t feel. And I’m selfish. I love seeing you out in the arena when I’m playing.”

My heart melts from his words. “How about I sit there when you’re on the ice, and at intermissions I go down to meet the girls in the WAGS suite? I should know them since I’ll be one of them.”

“You’re already one of them,” Nate says.

I move my hands to his face, feeling his stubble underneath my fingertips, and smile up at him.

“So we agree on that point,” I tease.

Nate laughs. “There’s more.”

I grin. “Okay, second point?”