Kinsley fell in love with Phoenix Maverick, an NHL player for a team she never imagined supporting. But when Kinsley suffers from a head injury and forgets the last six years of her life, she struggles balancing being the person Phoenix fell in love...
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May. Six months ago
Kinsley sat on the bench seat inside the box. The centre was empty. Securing her skates, she looked up at me and grinned. We finally had the chance for a second date. We'd lost the Stanley cup, fucking disappointing but it wasn't the first time. Tampa was an excellent team and it was a good game.
Now the season was over and I had time to take this girl out again. We'd been texting and calling over the last few weeks. She couldn't come to the game, being it was in Florida. She did send me a video of her and a group of her friends watching it though.
And because she was in her own home, she wore the jersey I gave her.
Getting that photo right before I went on was a fucking gift. It was a full mirror selfie. Little shorts on and a pair of long red socks. It was all I could think about.
She'd requested our next date be a private ice match. That wasn't hard to swing. We had the rink to ourselves.
"I've been skating since I was three," Kinsley said, standing up. She was wearing a big hoodie and pink leg warmers over her black tights. A matching pink beanie covered her warm brown curls.
Fucking beautiful.
"And?" I challenged, towering over her.
"And I'll skate circles around you."
"I made the NHL for a reason, cutie."
Her lips parted in outrage. "Cutie?"
Putting a finger under her chin, I tipped her defiant face toward me and leaned in close, speaking with a whisper. "Fucking adorable."
"Oh," she laughed, swatting my hand. "You're done. Done."
She stepped around me and skated onto the ice. As soon as she did, she took off, gliding the outside of the rink so effortlessly it was mesmerising. Her legs barely moved but her speed, damn.
"You coming?" She shouted, gliding backward.
She didn't have to tell me twice. Snatching our sticks, I went out onto the ice and met her in the middle. Her skates kicked up a shower of ice when she came to a stop in front of me and took the smaller stick.
"Not bad," I said, dropping the puck between us.
"I also won regional championships for the Vancouver girls hockey league in high school. Twice."
"Let's see what you've got then," I got into position, as did she. Sticks on the puck.
It'd be so easy to lose to her for the simple fact that I couldn't stop looking at her, admiring her, wanting her. She wouldn't have that problem, it was obvious that even if she were attracted to me, she was far too smart to let that get the best of her.
