After a few laps around the rink, the guy in the sound booth cues the music, and we start the routine. Finlay has the first part down, but whenever he has to make physical contact, he gets all twitchy and unsure of himself, especially when there’s a lift.

“Are you okay today?” I ask when he fumbles me for the third time.

“Uh, yeah, just…there’s a guy in the stands, and he’s been watching us for, like, ten minutes. He looks really familiar.”

I look around the arena and spot Randy sitting in the stands.

Randy rarely stays to watch me, and I have a feeling it’s no coincidence he’s decided to stick around while I’m teaching Finlay. His neediness this week, his sneaking into the locker room, the “impromptu” orgasms he couldn’t wait to give me, my smelling like I’ve doused myself in his cologne—all this leads me to believe his behavior is orchestrated and intentional. And I don’t know quite what to make of that.

When the song ends, I suggest we take a short break and grab some water.

Finlay looks to where my problematic boyfriend is sitting. “That guy totally looks like Randy Ballistic.”

I roll my eyes. “That’s because he is.”

His eyes go wide. “Holy shit. What’s he doing here?”

“Being a pain in my ass.”

“Huh?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

I almost enjoy his shock. “Wow. I wasn’t sure if that was a rumor or not.” He gestures between us, looking understandably nervous. “So is this a problem?”

“No. He’s waiting because he doesn’t have anything better to do. I’ll be right back.”

I skate over to Randy, because I’m not exactly sure it isn’t a problem, based on what happened in the changing room. He’s reclining in a chair one row back from the boards with his arm slung casually across the seat next to him. He flashes me a smile that’s anything but easy.

I point a finger at him as soon as I’m close enough. “I’m on to you.”

His eyes flare slightly before he cocks his head to the side, giving me his signature grin. “On to me? It’s not like I was hiding out. I’m just watch—”

I cut him off. “Don’t even think about lying.”

He opens his mouth and then closes it. Speechless Randy is new. He has a quick retort for just about everything.

I take advantage of his silence. “Yes or no, you ambushed me in the locker room so I’d smell like you and orgasms when I came out here to practice with Finlay.”

“What kind of name is Finlay, anyway?”

“That’s not a yes or a no.”

He runs a hand over his beard and mumbles something.

I crook a finger. “C’mere.”

He regards me with something like chagrin before he unfurls from his seated position. Randy’s a big man. He’s well over six feet tall, broad and weighing in at more than two hundred pounds during the off-season. He has to work hard to keep that weight on during game season because he burns calories faster than he can consume them. He may look intimidating to some, but he’s not to me.

He jumps the seats to stand in the first row. Only the boards separate us. His tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip as he looks me over. I have to adjust my tights for the eleven-millionth time. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s hard. He likes me feisty.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” I say softly.

Randy grips the boards, his fingertips going white as his gaze lifts over my head, likely to my skating partner, before it settles on me again. “Can you blame me?”

“Blame you for what exactly?”

“Wanting you to smell like me.”

I totally called it. “So you’re aiming for twenty-first-century caveman, now? Is this your version of peeing on a tree to mark your territory?”

He frowns. “Dogs do that, not cavemen. Or evolved cavemen, like me, apparently.”

I prop a fist on my hip. “You know what I mean. It’s the same thing.”

“It’s not even remotely the same.”

He’s being antagonistic on purpose. He knows it gets me hot. Right now I’m legitimately irritated, though. And I’m offended that it seems a lot like he doesn’t trust me. Although, now isn’t really the time to have it out about trust issues. “We’re not arguing about this now.”

“I didn’t realize it was an argument at all. That guy has his hands all over you. We have sex to this song all the damn time. I think it’s reasonable for me to want him to know you’re not available.”

I didn’t even consider how often we get it on to the song. “And you thought the best way to accomplish that was by eating me out in the locker room ten minutes before I had to be on the ice with him?”

“You seemed to enjoy yourself.”

My magic marble agrees. “That’s beside the point. We’ll be talking about this later.”

“That sounds like a good idea. You can tell me exactly what you liked best about my eating your pussy in the changing room and if there’s anything you’d want me to do differently next time.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I. I take eating your pussy very seriously.” Randy manages not to crack a smile. “Wanna introduce me to Finlay?”

“So he can run when he sees you coming for him?”

“Pretty much.”