The Ice Hockey Player

Mistakes and Odd Parcels

When dawn broke, Skye stayed in bed, wrapped in the thick comforter and silently berating herself. She stared up at the canopy wishing she could take last night back. She'd been foolish and had let her guard down. A knock raised her from her head.

It would be Finn; he was the only one who ever knocked on her door. The heated kiss from last night burst in her head in vivid detail; Finn's blue eyes speckled with green as he leaned in close, how he smelt of dish soap from the water fight, how gentle his hands and lips were on hers...

He knocked on her door again and Skye swung herself out of bed and padded over to open it, wrapping her arms around her chest. She hadn't put a bra on yet and certainly didn't want to give Finn anymore ideas.

"Morning," Finn said to her cheerfully.

"Morning," Skye mumbled back. The kiss had already gone to his head. She'd opened this can of worms and now she was going to have to shove them all back in.

"How are you?" Finn said, still beaming at her.

Skye gave a noncommittal jerk and shrug of her head and shoulders, and Finn's smile dropped. She averted her eyes to the door behind Finn, not wanting to look at his face. She was ashamed with herself about last night; especially since she had liked it! She'd made everything worse.

"Oh, well, the police are downstairs. They want to talk to us," Finn said.

"I'll be down in a second," Skye said, and shut the door before Finn could reply.

She quickly threw on a bra and attempted to get a brush through her mattered knots but gave up and put her hair into a bun, hiding the sticky, tangled chaos in the middle. She'd take care of that mess later.

The police were standing in the kitchen, looking horribly out of place in their pristine, crisp uniforms and stiff postures compared to the relaxed and easy atmosphere the kitchen gave off. Finn added to the tension by lounging against the bench top with a bowl of cereal in his hands, looking as if he had no care in the world.

All three pairs of eyes turned to Skye as she entered the room and she tentatively sat down on a stool in front of the island. The police on the left cleared his throat.

"We found fingerprints on the brick," he said, and Finn straightened up, suddenly alert. Skye stiffened visibly and Finn cast her a worried look, which she ignored. She wasn't as fragile as Finn kept thinking her to be.

"Do you have any matches?" Finn asked, voicing Skye's thoughts.

"No, not on our database anyway. We've come to ask again if you know anyone. We can speak to them and, if they have no clear alibi, can be counted as a suspect. We can then get a warrant and get a fingerprint to try and match," the police on the right explained, her voice softer than her partners.

"We've discussed this," Finn said.

"And?" the man prompted, his fingers whipping out a small paper pad and pen and poised to write.

"We don't know anyone," Finn said.

"No one? No ex-girlfriends or boyfriends?" The man said, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Honestly, it may be one of my jealous ex-one-night stands but I can't remember anyone who stood out to be particularly crazy," Finn said.

The dislike for Finn started to seep back into Skye's blood and bones. Last night had been a carefully crafted decision to make her drop her guards. And it had worked. He was a player and she was his next victim. She couldn't forget that.

She replayed the kiss she shared with him last night through her head; and then sent it to the delete box at the back of her mind with her other unwanted memories. There, now he wouldn't bother her again.