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could give his smug, pretty face a close-up view of the ice.
    ***
    Dell
     
    I turned my key in the steel side door to the arena. It was after 8:30 – would Luke even be here? I’d read Kyler a story and tucked him in at eight. He was asleep five minutes later when I checked on him and then left with a wave at Sadie, who was watching one of her travel shows on the couch.
    The rink lights were on. As I drew closer, I saw a lone figure on the ice. Luke. He was weaving around orange cones on the ice, snow flying up from his skates. When he reached the end of the rink, he spun around and went the other way.
    I frowned, not liking the unnecessary stress it was putting on his knee. My skittishness over how to approach him and offer help disappeared and I strode purposefully to the locker room to unearth my skates from a cabinet in my office. I didn’t use them much anymore, but skating was second nature in my family.
    When he saw me skating his way, Luke looked over, his expression a cross between confusion and amusement.
    “Dell?”
    “Is your knee wrapped?”
    “Uh … I left it wrapped from earlier.”
    I pointed to the bench. “Let me check it.”
    He skated toward me and I could tell how hard he’d been pushing himself. His dark blond hair was wet with sweat and his cheeks were flushed.
    “What are you doing here?” he asked, sitting down on the bright blue bench.
    “Thought you might like some help.” I reached for his skate to unlace it out of habit. When one of the guys needed a leg or knee worked on during the game, I unlaced their skates so they could stay focused on what was happening on the ice.
    “Here, let me,” he said. “You don’t have to do that.”
    “I’ve got it. I’m fast.” I pulled off his skate and started unsnapping the bottom of his pants so I could access the knee he’d injured.
    He stood silently and pulled his nylon athletic pants down. Even though I was a trainer who was used to things like this, it felt forbidden since we were alone in the arena. And looking at him felt different than looking at the other guys. I’d never wanted to look at their bodies the way I wanted to look at Luke’s right now. I focused on the wrap, securing it, standing and looking away while he pulled his pants back up.
    “No reason to keep stressing the knee with all that turning,” I said.
    He laced his skate and stood, arching his brows at me. “What do you suggest?” he asked, his pale blue eyes shining with amusement.
    “We should practice passing. You’re in great shape, you just need lots of repetition on the mechanics you haven’t been doing for the past two months.”
    He nodded, the chagrin gone from his expression. “Good idea. So you’ve picked up the game at this job, huh?”
    “Here and there.”
    “You ever play?”
    “Nope.” I pulled a spare stick out from beside the bench and slid myself over the rink wall.
    Luke’s focus was impressive. For the next 45 minutes, it was like I wasn’t even there. I’d pass a puck and he’d sweep it up with his stick, charge to the net and shoot. He never even looked at me. It was him, the puck and his stick.
    “Let’s change gears,” I finally said. He looked over at me and then skated over, breathing heavily. “Get some water first.”
    I ran him up and down the rink for the next hour, reminding him that his only competition was himself. I despised the words as I said them because they were straight from my dad’s playbook. He always told his players to strive to be faster and stronger today than they’d been yesterday, rather than measuring themselves against other players. It was good advice.
    Glancing down at the slender silver watch on my wrist, I saw that it was nearly 10:45.
    “That’s it for tonight,” I said. Luke skated my way and slid to a smooth stop.
    “Thanks, Dell. I don’t know why you’re bullshitting me about having played hockey before, because you definitely have. This was a big help. Having you here to