Page 76 of Broken Ice, Mended Hearts

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Ella only wanted to use me, and she never made me feel like Sven does. I guess it’s possible.”

Cleevs raised an eyebrow. “That you love Sven?”

“Yes, maybe I do.”

“Then you must talk to him. Call now.”

My heart kicked me in the ribs. “And tell him what? I need to think about this so I know what to say.”

“Tell him what you said to me. Explain that you’re figuring things out because you’ve never been in love before.”

“What if he says it doesn’t matter? That we’re over anyway?”

“Nothing good comes without risk, but I’ll bet ten thousand bucks that won’t happen.”

We got quiet, and my mind raced while TV noise came through the wall from a neighboring room. Eventually, I said, “I don’t want to talk to him before the game. It might leave me in worse shape than I’m in now.”

“Send a text, then, and say you’ll call after we get back here tonight.” He tapped the tabletop. “Don’t leave him hanging. Whether you’re in love or not, you like him too much for that.”

I nodded. “I’ll send a message.”

After Cleevs left, it was time to get ready for the game, so I put on my suit and decided to message Sven on the way to the arena. Once I got on the bus, though, I realized I didn’t know what to say. “I’ll call you tonight,” was easy, but getting up the nerve to type it wasn’t, so I procrastinated. At the arena, I changed into a T-shirt and gym shorts for our pre-game soccer kickaround, and before locking up my phone, I typed in a message.

GAGS: I really need to talk to you, so I’ll call from the hotel tonight after the game. Please answer. I miss you.

I stared at what I’d written, then hesitated. What if he didn’t respond? Or worse, told me not to call?

“Come on, Gaggles.” Scott Lemoyne clapped my back on his way by. “We don’t have long to play.”

I looked at my phone again, but it buzzed before I could hit send.

SVEN: I’m sorry I hung up on you. Can we please talk tonight? I don’t want to leave things how they are.

Relief washed over me, but my negative side immediately raised its head. What if he only wanted to clarify that thingswere over?Shit! If that’s what he has in mind, he’ll have a lot of listening to do.

I deleted the message I’d been about to send and typed again.

GAGS: I’m so glad to hear from you! I’ll call as soon as we get back to the hotel, ok?

SVEN: I’ll be waiting. You guys in your meeting?

GAGS: Not yet. We’re about to do the kickaround.

SVEN: Have fun, and good luck tonight. I’ll be watching.

GAGS: Miss you. I’ll call as soon as I can.

I slammed the locker door shut and headed for the loading dock, where we always did our soccer matches. Maybe things would be okay, after all.

The Barracudas laid waste to Detroit during the first period. While the Huskies skated around like it was Sunday afternoon in the park, Stick, Tyler, and Blake racked up three goals within the first eight minutes, and Eckie scored right before the intermission. Retiring from the ice with a 4–0 lead felt good, and Shuford was all smiles. “Good work, men. Watch your left during turns, Rodriguez. They almost got you a couple of times.”

We stripped off our jerseys to cool down, and I decided to text Sven and say hi. I went next door to the locker room and got out my phone, but before I could type a message, Harper Blanton came in and nodded a greeting.

“You look good out there tonight,” I said. “No more worries about ice time?”

He opened his locker, which was down the row from mine. “I guess not. Are you okay? You looked down earlier.”

“I’m fine, just a rough day. Thanks for asking, though.”

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