But I keep it together and ask, “Did I tell you I finally figured out what enforcers do on the ice?” He narrows his gaze, like he can’t quite tell if I’m joking or not. “You did not,” he says slowly. I shrug, like I fully expected his answer. “Okay. Just checking.” Nathan freezes, holding my gaze before the brightest, most beautiful smile stretches across his face. Then he throws his head back, eyes closed, and my very grumpy, perfectly imperfect, love-of-my-life hockey player starts to laugh.
