Page 35 of The Puckable Playbook

“We need the cowbell!” Zaiah’s mom yells.

Welp, if they say they need the cowbell, they need the cowbell. I grab it and jump to my feet, shaking that thing like I’ve been doing it all my life.

The player dekes once. Twice…

He shoots, and before I can even tell if the puck went into the net, the siren goes off, and we may be the only ones having a party, but we do the damn thing.

Blue-and-white pom-poms shaking, cowbell ringing, all four of us scream our heads off.

I don’t even realize it’s Zaiah who scored until he turns toward us while celebrating with his team. I’m mid jump, mid hugging his sister, the cowbell going off like I’m calling everyone to dinner in a three-mile radius, when his gaze flashes our way. Instead of skating to wherever he needs to be, he makes his way to us. I can barely see his face, but he blows that kiss to hismom that he promised, and then he moves his stare to me. “You watching, Len?”

I shake my head.Cocky little…

Izzy eyes me suspiciously, her eyes narrowed as I pick up my notebook. “He wants me to write something favorable for the paper.”

“Yeah. That must be it,” she says, sounding less than convinced.

She turns back around, and my stomach somersaults. This is…fun. Really fun, actually. Butterflies fill my insides, and it’s cold in here, but that’s not the reason for the goose bumps spreading over my skin. Being here is like seeing an old friend, but even better because that friend is on its best behavior, is dressed immaculately…and looks like Zaiah James.

Is it possible I miss hockey?

Nah.It has to be something else.

Oh shit.My stomach tightens. After all this time, I couldn’t still think abouthimlike this, right?

“This is insane,” I mutter to myself. Watching an innocent hockey game shouldn’t bring up this many mixed emotions. From my father to Zaiah, it’s like a tornado runs rampant inside my brain.

For the next period, Izzy distracts me from my thoughts, chatting to me about field hockey, interspersed with comments about the game. I put my analytical mind behind and go with the flow. His parents want a cheering partner, so that’s what I do. Besides, I kind of love swinging that cowbell during fast breaks, steals, and fights—especially if Zaiah is involved.

At one point, I peer over to the player’s box to find him watching, helmet off, his sweat-soaked hair plastered to the crown of his head, the ends curling by his ears. For a moment, I’m blindsided by the same feelings that surged inside me when I was dancing on that table and he was staring up at me. Theinitial rush, the flip-flop of my belly. All I could do was look on in disbelief thatIgrabbed his attention.

Like present day, the moment only lasts a few seconds, but it’s enough to admire the stubble on his jaw, his easy smile, and dimples. I’ve never met someone with dimples before. They were a romance novel myth, but not anymore. He’s a cover model come to life.

He winks at me, and then his coach calls his line to get back out on the ice. He secures his helmet, grabs his stick, and steps over the barrier, skating away like nothing happened.

Just like when Trish stole his attention, disappointment surrounds me. I had his interest for point three seconds and thenbam, something better came along.

It doesn’t matter now, I remind myself. We’re only roommates. Clearly. Or maybe leaning toward the friend side. I could deal with that because no matter what Zaiah does, one thing is clear: He’s a good person.

He gets the break away again, and we all stand. This time, #9 takes a direct approach and puts it in the net once more.

Before he even celebrates with his teammates, he peers over, and makes a writing gesture in the air, then points at me. I can’t see his face from behind the helmet, but he must be loving this.

He’s a golden boy…only no one on campus knows it yet.

CHAPTER TEN

Zaiah

A dull achesurrounds my ribs. It’s not the only pain that makes its way to the surface, but it’s the worst. Nothing I haven’t felt before, thank God, and at least we can count today’s game as a win.

I put my key in the door and find it already unlocked. Pushing it open, I hear shuffling from the living room, and when I close the door behind me, Len stands in the hallway, her hands cupped around her mouth. “And with three goals and one assist, the speed demon himself, Zaiahhhhhhh James!”

I tilt my head at the announcer’s voice she’s trying to emulate.Man, she is too cute.

She shrugs. “Everyone should have a hype man. Also, I figured out your publicity problem.”

“Publicity problem?”

---