Page 123 of Make the Play

“I reported it,” she interrupts. “It’s logged. Probably nothing.”

“Or it’s not.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know.” I force my voice to stay level. “But if anything else happens, tell me. Okay?”

Her eyes flick to mine, then away. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Zoe.”

She sighs. “Yes. I’ll tell you.”

That’s the only answer I need. I lean in and press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“See you tonight,” I murmur.

She looks at me for a beat, her brows pulling together like she doesn’t already know exactly what this is.

Let me love you, sweetheart.

I watch her for one more second—the shift in her shoulders, the careful way she moves to avoid my eyes again.

And I wonder, not for the first time this week, if I’m completely out of my mind or just really fuckingin it.

But right now, I need to get to the rink. Get my head straight.

As I move into the hallway, she calls over her shoulder.

“This didn’t happen, by the way! Tell anyone you saw tears and I’ll sell your soul to the lowest bidder in the next team promo!”

“What tears?” I call back, grinning. “Didn’t see a thing. I was never here, you were never soft…”

I pause, glancing back at her with a wink.

“But you’re definitely still hotter than my coffee.”

She snorts into her cup and just like that, we’re back to normal.

Except it’s not normal.

Not anymore.

***

The whistle blasts, and my skates dig in hard. I pivot too sharply on the rush drill and feel it in my hip, but I push through. If my body’s wrecked by the end of this, that’s fine. It’s the only thing that’s been keeping my brain quiet lately.

I circle back to center ice, barely catching Logan’s muttered, “Christ, settle down,” as he glides past me.

Eli lines up across from me and nods at Coach on the boards. We’ve been doing transition sprints and odd-man rushes all morning, and no one’s had time to think, let alone chirp.

Until now.

“You good?” Eli murmurs beside me, just low enough for the mic’d boards not to pick it up.

“Fine.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in two nights.”

---