Cade: Fire And Ice: A Second Chance Hockey Romance Read Online Free

concrete over the curb, neatly sticking his foot out underneath it and kicking it back into the air before it hit the ground. He was surprisingly nimble for someone of his size and I did my best to hide the fact that his athleticism had caused a little flower of warmth to bloom in my belly.
    "Oh, I don't mean it like that. My parents are great, totally supportive. They moved out here for me - for my hockey career. But sometimes I feel like they don't understand all the pressure, you know? Like, everyone says I'm supposed to be this big star someday and...what if I'm not?"
    I knew Cade was in North Falls to play for the Ice Kings and I knew the Ice Kings were a big deal, but I didn't know he was explicitly tipped for stardom.
    "Are you?" I started, worried that I might sound like some kind of groupie, but curious about what he'd said. "Are you supposed to be a star, I mean?"
    He shrugged. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, ESPN did a big story on me and my dad gets calls every week from NHL teams. It's just, I mean, what if I don't turn out to be so good? What if I don't live up to my potential? Lots of guys don't."
    I watched his face as he talked, my eyes tracing the straight, strong contours of his jawline.
    "Well what if you don't? Turn out to be so good?"
    Cade looked me right in the eye when I asked him that and I couldn't read his expression.
    "You're the first person who's ever acknowledged that could even happen, you know."
    "Am I? I don't know, it just seems like a good idea not to be counting any chickens before they hatch."
    "Yeah," Cade replied, his voice rising slightly in agreement, "exactly. What if I just don't get any better than I am now? I feel like I'll be letting down so many people, including myself. I almost wish none of this hype was happening, it makes me so anxious sometimes."
    We kept walking, trudging through the leaves and cigarette butts on the way to my trailer. He stayed close to me, closer than I was used to, but it felt good and right somehow. Part of me wanted to put my arm around him, to offer some small physical gesture of comfort, but I was too self-conscious, too clueless about interactions with boys.
    "You should come to one of my games."
    I looked up at him, half-wondering if he was joking. Inviting me to a game? An official invitation? I wondered if he realized how that would look to everyone else in North Falls. It would look like we were dating.
    "Uh, really?" I asked, failing to keep a note of real surprise out of my voice.
    "Yeah," he smiled, "really. What's so strange about inviting a friend to watch a hockey game?"
    A friend. Of course. He wasn't from North Falls. He didn't understand how things were in very small towns. I accepted the invitation even though the word 'friend' had stung more than I expected it to. What was I thinking anyway? That the new guy - and not just any new guy, but the hot, hockey-playing, destined for the NHL new guy - would be interested in more than friendship with me? Not likely.
    When we got to the trailer, Cade did his best to keep his reaction hidden but I saw it briefly, the slight look of horror on his face as he took in the scene: broken toys and car parts strewn everywhere and the tiny little trailer itself, dingy with years of grime and with no lights shining through the windows to soften the harshness of its appearance.
    "Is - Ellie, is anyone home?"
    I was about to answer when Baby Ben's smiling face appeared in the front window.
    "Ellie! Ellie!"
    His excited voice was easy to hear through the badly-fitted, single-pane windows and Cade seemed to have exactly the same thought I did.
    "Doesn't it get cold in there?"
    I tried to play it off. "Oh, yeah. I mean, it's not bad, we just put extra layers on, it's, um, we have a lot of blankets-"
    I was cut off by the sight of Baby Ben's bare torso as he climbed onto the back of the sofa to bang excitedly on the glass. A quick flash of anger at Jacob seized me, followed immediately by guilt. Jacob was seven