FALLING FOR THE ICE KING

Chapter 8

Vivienne's POV

My appetite is slowly starting to come back and thank goodness for that, because I was able to indulge in the full experience that is brunch. I’m now enjoying food a little more, and washing it all down with a few cocktails? Well, there’s nothing better than pancakes and Bellini’s, that’s for sure.

Now I’m standing in my bedroom deciding what to wear as Sia walks in. She’s got a beautiful, long, black, silk top that shows off all her rich, caramel skin—a shade darker from being in the sun—with skinny jeans and boots. Rose gold hoops hang from her ears, her dark brown hair perfectly styled. She’s stunning.

I look down at what I’ve laid out on the bed—jeans, Converse, and a plain red top—and she stops mid-stride.

“You cannot wear red. You need to choose something else.”

“Like what?” I ask, confused.

“I don’t know. Anything except red. The other team they’re playing tonight is red.”

Knowing that would be a major sporting faux pas, I walk over to my wardrobe and pull out a white, slouch-shoulder top.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, perfect. You can borrow my leather jacket to go with that,” she says as she runs out of the room.

Moments later, she’s back and throwing the jacket on my bed while I stare at my hair.

“I’ll help,” she says and turns on the straightener.

She curls my hair into tendrils before brushing it out into waves, and then she breaks into my makeup bag and sets about beautifying my face.

“There, done. Such a pretty Vivi. You hardly need any makeup.”

She spins the chair around so I’m facing the mirror and looking at myself, and I immediately feel better. I don’t think I’ve gotten dressed in anything other than leggings and a hoodie for about twelve months. My eyes are smokey with shadow, a little shimmer dances on my cheeks, and a bright red stains my lips.

Picking up my clutch, I make sure my trusty lip balm, cards, and phone are tucked in safely. At that, the buzzer by the door sounds and she rushes over to the intercom.

“Come up, babe,” she sings into it.

Theo soon appears with two of his friends. Giving Sia a smoochy kiss, not caring that me and his friends are privy to this very intimate display of affection, I awkwardly look through my handbag again. Once he lets her go, he walks over to me and envelops me in a huge bear hug.

“Hey, Vivienne, are you doing okay so far?”

“Yes, thank you. How can I not be okay with this one?” I joke with a thumb over my shoulder pointing at Sia, who’s now putting on her coat.

He smiles back, knowing it’s the truth. Sia does make everything better. Theo spins me around and makes the introductions.

“This is Wills and Garrett, my boys from the house.”

“Watch these two. They’re trouble,” Sia laughs.

“You love us,” the one named Garrett pipes up. “We brighten up your day, Mary Poppins.”

“Don’t listen to them. They think I’ve got the same accent as bloody Julie Andrews.” She sighs, and I burst out laughing. Which is amazing. It feels so good to laugh again like this.

“Who’s ready for hockey?” Theo asks as he herds me and Sia toward the door, but I stop and turn to look at him.

“Hockey? What? Like on a field?” I look down at my outfit. “I thought we were going to watch basketball or something.”

Theo immediately looks offended by this.

“Basketball? Come on now, Vivienne. I’m taking you to watch a real sport—ice hockey.”

Now I must look confused, because he spins to look at Sia.

“Sienna, what the hell have you been telling her?”

Not giving Sia time to respond, he turns back to me and says,

“You’re going to love it. You Brits don’t know what you’re missing.”

With that, he throws his arm over my shoulders and ushers us out the door.

•••

We arrive at the place where the hockey match is taking place and it’s huge, of course. Madison Square Garden is huge. I haven’t done crowds in a long time, but I’m feeling okay, even though it is wall to wall people. Sia links arms with me and we follow as a fourth man joins us who Theo introduces as his cousin, Scott, also a fireman.

We make our way through the bustling atrium as rock music blares and the excitement is palpable.

“You’re doing really well, Vivi. Let’s grab some food and drinks from over there and then we’ll make our way down the stairs. Theo’s family gets really good seats.”

She loads us up with pretzels and beer, which we wait in a really short queue for, considering the amount of people that are here. Theo offers to buy her anything she asks for, and then he leads us down a steep flight of stairs toward our seats. They stop and then cut in, walking along the aisle close to the ice. ‘Numb/Encore’ blasts so loud the stadium feels like it shakes.

A little boy, not much older than six, throws himself at Theo and Scott, who laugh as they both catch him. Theo lifts him onto his shoulders and they walk to the glass together.

Sia introduces me to the adorable little boy’s mom, Charlotte, just as there’s a commotion at the glass. An enormous player with a dazzling smile laughs with them, throwing something over the glass that the little boy catches while cheering.

The player then scans our aisle one by one as he waves at Charlotte, Scott, Theo’s friends, Sia, and then his ocean-blue gaze lands on me and my cheeks explode with heat that I know is going to be a very obvious, very red blush.

Because holy hell, is he handsome.

His hand freezes mid-air. Theo looks over his shoulder to see what caught the player’s attention and then mouths something at him, shaking his head. They stare at each other a moment and then he skates off.

I notice he too has the same last name on his back as the rest of our group—Kingsley—with the number eleven on it.

“Theo knows a player?” I ask, racking my brain for when she may have told me this. To be fair, she’s told me so much over the years, but I wasn’t properly listening at the time.

“Yeah, Damien Kingsley is Theo’s cousin.”

Sia goes on to explain that Damien and Charlotte are twins, Scott is their brother, and the little boy is Charlotte’s son Jack. She then proceeds to finish her spiel with a rousing speech about how close they all are and how lucky she is.

“Honestly, Vivi, over here, it’s like being related to a soccer player or something.”

I turn to her with an admonishing look.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend your precious game. I meant ‘football’ player.”

Yet she still uses air quotes and rolls her eyes.

“Sometimes I forget my roots.”

She smiles at me, fluttering her lashes, and then chatters on about the game being split into thirds and that there are no draws in hockey. She’s talking, the music is turned up to about a thousand decibels, the fans around me are crazy excited, and all of this should be overwhelming.

Except it isn’t, because I cannot keep my eyes off the man-mountain of teal and white with the most gorgeous eyes and the brightest smile as he skates and stretches, as he gracefully weaves around other players, as he laughs with teammates and flicks discs at the goalie.

Damien.

Sia smirks at me and I shake my head vehemently.

“No way, Sia. This is only day two of my new life. Not to mention he’s a famous hockey player. Don’t even go there.”

I say this even as my eyes betray me again, finding him like tracker beams.

He’s elegant but not delicate. Tall and so wide, but not beefy. I can tell even in his uniform.

“Oh, Vivi, famous or not, he just stared at you like a wolf stares at a baby deer,” she exclaims and then takes a big dramatic bite of her pretzel.

Luckily, Jack distracts her by showing off the black disc he was just given. Theo bends to whisper in Sia’s ear for a moment and then she looks at me and winks.