Page 18 of Hearts on Ice
“For not bringing two bags.”
The laugh lingered between us, softening everything that had come before. For a moment, neither of us moved. Then I noticed a crumb near the corner of his mouth—right by his fuller bottom lip.
Before I could stop myself, my hand twitched like I might brush it away. Heat climbed my neck. What the hell was I thinking?
He must’ve felt the attention because he paused, swiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb, then stood and crossed to the cupboard. When he came back, he set a small stack of napkins between us, pulling one free.
He wiped his mouth, casual, unbothered, as if nothing had passed between us—but I felt it anyway.
The quiet that followed hummed with something I didn’t want to name.
“Well,” I said finally, rising to my feet. “I should get out of your hair.” My body wasn’t ready to move.
“Thanks for the company,” he said quietly.
“Anytime, Coach.”
I meant it more than I should have.
He followed me to the door, an arm’s length of space between us in the narrow hall. My shoulder brushed his, a whisper of contact that sent a clean, inexplicable current through me. I straightened like good posture could disguise it.
“Tomorrow,” he said quietly. “Be ready early. I want you out for first shots.”
“I’m always ready,” I said. Too soft, but I didn’t take it back.
His nod was deliberate, like he believed me more than I believed myself. He looked like he might say something else, then didn’t. I wasn’t brave enough to ask.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said instead. “And for the talk.”
“Thanks for dessert,” he returned, mouth tugging. “And the company.”
“Anytime, Coach.” I should’ve left it there. I even stepped into the hall. But then I looked back, because I couldn’t help myself.
“You were right,” I said.
His brow lifted. “About?”
“My voice.” The words felt bigger than they should have. “You said it mattered.”
This time, he didn’t deflect. His gaze steadied on mine, quiet and unflinching. “Then use it.”
“Sí, Coach.”
That earned me the faintest shake of his head—and God help me, a flicker of warmth at the edges of his eyes I wanted to memorize.
I left with my pulse drumming too high, the night air cool against skin that still ran hot. On the steps I lingered, knowing it had only been dinner, only strategy, only talk.
But it hadn’t felt like only.
Chapter 10
Drew
Opening night of the regular season always carried a buzz, but not the kind you got at a Pythons game. We weren’t the Pasadena Pythons—NAPH spotlight, packed arena, fans lined down the block. We were the Grizzlies, the farm team. PHL crowds filled in solid enough, teal, turquoise, and maroon banners waving, drums pounding from one section, but there were empty seats too. You learned to live with it. This was whererookies proved themselves and veterans clawed for a shot to get called up. Two different kinds of hunger.
Edmonton had made the trip down the coast, and if their warm-up told me anything, they’d come to grind. They weren’t a finesse squad; they leaned on size, weight, and shoving until your lungs quit. Exactly the kind of test I wanted.
The locker room was tighter, noisier than usual. Tape ripping, skate blades rasping against the sharpener in the corner, the hiss of Velcro being tugged shut. My voice would cut through in a minute, but I let them have their noise first.
