Page 55 of Empty Net

“What’s it like to have normal parents?”

It’s sad that Lilah even has to ask a question like that. It’s sad foranyonetoask a question like that. I know I’m lucky to havethe kind of parents I do—people who love me unconditionally—but I forget sometimes just how fortunate I truly am.

She shakes her head. “Anyway, enough of the sad stuff.I’mgoing to use the restroom, then get out of here. I’ve had too many nights past my bedtime lately, and it’s catching up to me.” As if on cue, she yawns and points at the action. “See? I need sleep.”

“Let me drive you home.”

“It’s fine. I’ll order an Uber.”

“That wasn’t really a question, Lilah.”

Once again, her eyes spark with something I can’t quite place, and she nods. “Okay.”

“Good.”

She points toward the bathrooms. “Be right back.”

I watch her walk away, which means I see when she dares a peek at me over her shoulder. I grin, loving how she quickly looks away, walking faster. I’m not sure if it’s in an effort to rush away from me or due to the desire to get back quickly. Either way, it makes me laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Locke asks, his heavy hand landing on my shoulder.

I look back over to where Lilah disappeared, then shake my head. “It’s nothing. Nice pass to Ritchie out there earlier.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but we both know that goal wouldn’t have happened without Locke’s perfectly placed pass up the ice that gave us the breakaway. His passing skills are the biggest reason the Serpents brought the veteran player to Seattle.

“Wasn’t as cool as that kick save you made.”

“Oh, you mean that lucky-as-fuck one? I had no clue where the puck was.”

“Did anyone?”

No, probably not, but as the goalie, I shouldn’t have lost sight of it like that. We all know that was a desperation move, and we got lucky with it.

“Stop beating yourself up,” he tells me like he can read my mind. “We got the points. That’s all that matters, yeah?”

“Yeah, but look how hard you guys had to work for it because of me. Have you seen my save percentage this year? The only reason we’re where we are is because we’re outscoring the opponent. It’s definitely not because of me.”

“It’s a team effort, and you know it. So stop it.” He points a severe finger at me. “I’m being so fucking for real right now. Lighten up, Foxy. Get loose. Stop putting so much pressure on yourself.”

He’s right. I know he is. But it’s hard sometimes, especially when IknowI could be doing better. The best I played all night was during overtime, and?—

Holy shit.

It hits me: the best I played all night was during overtimeafterI saw Lilah in the stands. Is she the reason I played so well? I don’t know. All I know is that maybe that’s why I was on the balcony the night she needed help. Maybe I was out there for a reason, to help her so she could help distract me from my game a bit, get me out of my head.

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“I think I know a good place to start too.” He flicks his chin, and I look over my shoulder to where he’s gestured.

There’s Lilah, coming out of the dim hallway, tossing her long, dark hair behind her shoulder and looking like she’s walking a runway instead of through a dingy sports bar. Fuck, she looks good tonight, and I don’t just mean because she’s wearing my number on her back. While that’s been extremely hard to ignore, it’s more than that. She’s just gorgeous, effortlessly so.

But as badly as I want to, I can’t go there. We’re already playing a dangerous game, pretending to be engaged. We shouldn’t push this further than we already have.

“Nah,” I say, turning back to Locke. “There’s nothing there, man.”

“Right. Sure. Whatever you say, Foxy,” he says disbelievingly as Lilah approaches.

“Ready to go?” she asks, pulling her jacket off the back of her chair and shrugging it over her shoulders. “Hey, Locke.” She smiles at my teammate, and I hate that I hate it so much.

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