Page 1 of Facing the Line

Prologue

April 2022

JONAS

Beer is great. To drink, not shower in. This might be Evan’s idea of a fun time, but it’s not mine. I want a quiet moment to think, to take everything in and process the night.

I sigh and shake my head at him. “Gross. Dude, it’s champagne that you’re supposed to spray on your teammates, not beer.”

He laughs. “It’s all the same when you’re a champion, Jonas!”

We just won the National Championship! We are the best college hockey team in the country. This is amazing!

But telling myself that doesn’t take away the pressure. It’s like there’s an elephant sitting on my chest. Scouts, career plans, the future. Go pro? Or stay where I’m comfortable? Use my talent or my brain? Serve myself or serve others? Accept a calling or a career? The competing voices in my head wind me tighterthan the tape I wrapped around my stick, and I wish I knew the right answer.

“Yeah,” I say, agreeing outwardly. Because what else is there to do?

My best friend claps me on the shoulder and drains what’s left in his beer can. He snuck it in from somewhere. Typical. As if Evan’s words summoned it, Queen’s “We are the Champions” blares from the hotel speakers again. It’s at least the seventh time it’s played tonight, and it’s getting old.

But not to Evan. He sways to the music, fist raised in the air. His features are blissed out, his blonde hair is a mess on top of his head, but he doesn’t care. At least he doesn’t notice my smile is forced. This is supposed to be the best night of my life, the pinnacle of my hockey career. I’m proud of the guys, but personally, it’s not as thrilling as I expected.

Stepping away from him, I hold my Griffins NCAA Championship t-shirt out from my body. It’s soaked and now smells like a combination of hops and the chemical scent of new clothes. I wore it for about five minutes before Evan doused me with Coors. It was stiff and scratchy, anyway. I don’t mind the excuse to take it off.

“I’m gonna go…” Jerking my thumb, I trail off. Evan doesn’t notice.

Dodging my way through the crowd of people in the hotel ballroom where we’re celebrating, I find my duffle, stashed in a corner. I could go to my room and change, but I won’t make it back downstairs if I do, and my absence will be noted. I’m not ready to explain how I’m feeling to anyone yet. I’m not sure I understand it myself. So though I desperately want to disappear and unwind, I need to stay here. I won’t rain on my team’s parade.

But maybe I can step outside for a second for fresh air. I’ll get my head on straight and come back, ready to celebrate. Only fora few minutes. I root through my bag until I find a plain black tee. Perfect.

After glancing around, I spy a back door to the ballroom. I shoulder my bag and investigate. It’s not marked as an emergency exit, and the window reveals a little courtyard with patio furniture and a fire pit. It’s deserted.

Pushing the door open, I step outside. The quiet, compared to the ballroom, wraps around me like a fluffy comforter. The lights of Boston make it too bright to see stars, but the April evening air is cool against my flushed skin. Stripping off my soaked shirt, I inhale for a count of five. Being outside grounds me, helps keep me centered like nothing else.

Hockey used to. When I was in high school, flying down the ice after a puck made me feel free. But not these days. Lately, it makes my stomach tight with nerves and fills my head with questions I can’t answer. Too many worries about the future. I never thought I’d be faced with these choices. I wouldn’t give up my team for the world, but I didn’t expect scouts to approach me or an ESPN interview after the game. Is that what I want every night?

Think of the good you could do, a little voice whispers.Is it an opportunity you can afford to waste?

Dropping my duffle, I take a seat by the fire pit. I banish those thoughts from my brain and focus on the immediate, repeating my mantra.

We just won the National Championship! We are the best college hockey team in the country. This is amazing!

Maybe it will be more chill since we’ve won. I can just relax and enjoy the victory like everybody else inside.

Yeah, right, Jonas.

I huff a laugh at myself, running a hand through my curls, and startle at a noise. Someone shoves the door open, and I stifle a groan. It’s probably one of my teammates. Evan, coming to seewhere I am and why I don’t want to be the life of the party, like him.

That’s fine for Evan, but that’s never been my style. I’d rather fade into the background. His playboy ways don’t bother me, but I’m pretty much the opposite. And tonight I can’t bring myself to fake a happiness I’m not feeling yet.

My muscles tense as I prepare to make an excuse and go back inside with him, and I look up.

And freeze.

Because an absolutely gorgeous woman stops short in front of me. She’s tall, with slim legs that seem to last forever. She tosses a long blonde curtain of hair over her shoulder and stares at me with crystal blue eyes rimmed by dark lashes. A sharp jaw frames her face and full, pouty lips smile below a cute button nose. A Griffins hockey t-shirt clings to her curves, but I haven’t seen her on campus before. I’d definitely remember.

“Oh, sorry.” She giggles. “I didn’t know anyone else was out here. Am I interrupting?”

I clear my throat. “Uh, no. It’s fine.”

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