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Chapter 67. ‘Crashing’ Into The Building
publish date:
2026-10-15 23:32:43
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Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 70. Where Do I Fit In?
Anne-Marie’s P.O.VHe wants to see me?I blink and look up quickly, locking my gaze with another figure skater. She breaks into a smile, her cheeks turning pink. I give her an awkward smile and avert my gaze, shifting in my seat as I work out what to do.Coach Brian’s voice floats across the table. Everyone’s engrossed while feasting on steak. He says something about the school’s plan to bring harmony between the hockey team and the figure skaters. It’s an unachievable goal, so I’m barely paying attention. My eyes fall back to my phone. I tuck strands of hair behind my ear as I unlock my phone. Then I type a response quickly before anyone notices.Me: {You want to see me right now?}I hit send, drop my phone face down in my lap, lift my gaze again, and pick up my fork to keep eating. My eyes flick to my wristwatch. It’s 13:35. I have to be at the library at 01:45 p.m. to begin my shift, which means I–My phone buzzes in my lap.I pick it up and flip it over, scratching my forehead with
Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 69. Lunch With The Figure Skaters
Anne-Marie’s P.O.VMy heart skitters. My hands press into his shoulders, my head spinning as my skirt floats carelessly. “Kaizer, put me down.” I choke out, but he’s not stopping. He spins as perfectly as he would on ice, chuckling in reckless excitement. “My Ice Queen is back!” He roars and finally stops, his arms wrapped firmly around my waist, his pretty eyes lifted and pinned to mine as I stare down at him, face flaming in utter embarrassment.My legs are folded backward. I’m pressed too close for comfort. My little top has hiked up slightly, so his skin rubs against mine. Despite the chatter and liveliness, I feel the stares of people boring assumptive holes into me.“Put me down,” I repeat in displeasure, working my jaw. Carefully, he sets my feet on solid ground. Even as my hands slide down his shoulders, he doesn’t let go, holding my gaze captive with a smile that would have melted me into hot liquid and sent me on a daydreaming course four years ago.“People are watching,”
Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 68. Foul Mouth and Bending Rules
Anne-Marie’s P.O.VI yank myself off him, staggering until I’m steady, the tip of his cold fingers brushing my skin just where he held my waist, sending a shiver through me. My mouth is open, my hands are hurriedly straightening my top as we stare at each other. Horror is written all over him—his widened eyes and the fact that he has not blinked or moved an inch from where he slammed into the wall. I worry for his head. But my worry is squashed when Miss Blake’s voice floats into my ears.I back up two steps and turn, running toward the lecture hall, away from him. His footsteps echo behind me, and my heart kicks in panic. My insides turn sour. I put a hand over my chest—a chest that was just squashed against him—and rub it gently, hoping my heart isn’t beating too fast, hoping I wouldn’t have another panic attack. Everything seems a bit normal for now. I take two deep breaths as I approach the door, take another one, then turn the doorknob.Murmurs quieten.Caleb throws up his hand,
Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 67. ‘Crashing’ Into The Building
Anne-Marie’s P.O.V“I’m not gonna date him.” My voice came out defensively, yet shaky.Diana pulled away, looked into my eyes with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth, and said, “But you’re considering it.” I couldn’t deny it.Beatrice stared at me, wide-eyed, and the two of them rejoiced silently while my baby looked from one woman to the other, clueless and sleepy.That’s how last night went. Okay, not all of it. Beatrice and Diana wanted to celebrate my return to the ice rink. So, after I fed Maryanne her dinner, gave her a bath, and finally put her to sleep (after reading her a story while playing with her hair and having to stop her from tearing the book apart), I joined my best friends in the living room for a half glass of expensive champagne that Beatrice brought back from her work trip and some leftover cookies from the last batch I’d baked.I was grateful they didn’t ask questions about Marcus. There’s really nothing between us, so I wouldn’t have had any answers.
Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 66. A Message for Marcus
Anne-Marie’s P.O.VFlying first class is an experience I’ll forever cherish and be grateful for, especially because I got to do it with my baby. She’s asleep against my chest, fussing quietly every time I try to get comfortable as Marcus’s assistant drives us home from the airport. Marcus McCarthy… The COO of Litho Core Semiconductors & Technologies.I finally looked him up last night after returning to the hotel and wished I hadn’t, even though I’m glad I did—it’s why I’m yet to respond to his dinner invitation. It’s why I’m quickly coming out of the bubble I’ve been in the last few days I spent in New Jersey, getting pampered and catered to without having to lift a finger or worry about making ends meet. It’s the reason my head is spinning, and if it weren’t for the company in this car, I’d be slamming it against the window and calling myself an idiot. So foolish of me to think I could be anything to him. So foolish of me to think I could rely on him and perhaps get comfortable wi
Dancing On Ice: One-Night Stand With The Hockey Captain Chapter 65. Fly, Anne-Marie
Anne-Marie’s P.O.VIt’s Wednesday—our fourth day in New Jersey. Monday was too much to handle. I was merely holding on for my baby. She was the only reason I made it back to my suite in one piece, having spent several hours sprawled in front of my sister and mom’s gravestones, weeping until depletion. I got back to our suite, cared for my baby, and cried into the night. Marcus called, and I couldn’t even pick up. Dreading another episode of panic and torture, I stayed in yesterday. But I’m trying again today.“Mommy?” Maryanne calls for the hundredth time, looking up at me and holding out her white rose stalks, one in each hand. “Mommy…” She murmurs, uncertainty in her voice and big eyes.I give her a reassuring nod and nudge her forward, quickly wiping the tear from my eye before dropping into a squat behind her. “This is for grandma,” I repeat, sniffle, and take her right hand, guiding it forward. “Say, hi, Grandma,”“I ca–ma,” she manages, takes a tiny step forward in her boots, a
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