Page 86 of Banter & Blushes

“Why, so you can critique my technique, Miss Photojournalist?”

She bobs her head. “Yes.”

I groan. “Fine.” I scroll through the images and videos I took before swiping again to the one of McKennan.

Sophie laughs. “I wasn’t expecting footage like that.”

Pausing the video, I study McKennan’s face staring up at the camera. “He’s cute, right?”

Cute doesn’t do him justice. The guy steams my sunglasses like the Florida humidity in August.

Sophie laughs. “More like he thinks you are.”

“You think so?” I know so, but having confirmation, especially from my best friend, helps a lot. Boring school teacher here, remember?

She frowns at me. “Are you kidding? Look at his expression. He’s totally into you. Better watch it, though. I hear hockey players have a type.”

“What’s that?”

She glances at the smiling image of my hot hockey guy again, then at me. “You.”

CHAPTER 3

ETHAN

No playoffs for us this season. Not surprising, considering our former coach checked out before we ever had a chance. Then he traded our captain away, leaving us unmoored for the rest of the season. Especially me because he and I were defense partners.

Even though the season is technically over for us, we’re still on the ice, practicing and adjusting to our new coach, Gabe Markelson. He’s young for a coach, but I remember him from his days playing for the San Jose Sharks. The guy knew how to dash and dance with the best of them. Probably would have broken some serious goal records if that last concussion hadn’t taken him out of the game.

Standing on the ice in front of the players’ bench, Coach holds up a dry-erase board, pointing to the play he mapped out for a power play strategy. “I want the D-men to run drills for this one. Our first game next season will be against the Icemen, and you know their rep for power plays.”

“They’re not bad penalty killers either,” I add.

Coach nods. “We’ll work on that next.” He glides backward, moving out of the way we go over the wall.

The first thing I do is search for her. Could she still be in the arena? We weren’t in the meeting room that long, but it might as well have been an eternity because my head was definitely not on the game clips we were supposed to analyze. I mean, I watched the footage, listened to Coach’s input, and even askeda couple of questions, but she stayed in the back of my mind like an all-consuming force.

What if she’s gone, and I never see her again? I should have gotten her number before we left the arena.

Mathéo—aka Barbie-man—knocks on my helmet like it’s a door. “You in there, McKennan?”

I shove his fist away. “Dude, I’m right here. What’s your problem?”

“You. Quit looking for that girl and pay attention.” He points to Elias, who’s gawking at me like I’ve just morphed into a marshmallow or something.

That’s when I realize they started a passing drill while I stood there, staring at the stands.

“Sorry.” I turn my back to where I saw her last. “Run it through again. I’m ready.”

After the fourth time, we nail it, garnering a whistle blow and a couple of claps from our coach.

He waves us to the players’ bench, then walks us through that penalty-killer play. And I’m totally in. Focused, absorbing every word, because this guy has our number and that may well be our ticket to the Kelly Cup playoffs next season.

Coach stares at me, then Elias. “You two pair up.”

I know what he’s saying. He wants to see if Elias and I can make a good defensive team. We bump gloves and climb the wall, then join the others on the ice to run the play. He and I get into position, do the drill, and it works the first time.

Coach skates over to where Elias and I are pounding each other on the backs and grinning like we just won the cup.

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