Page 62 of Face Off
“Exactly,” he says, breezing past me. “I’ve been here fifteen. Dedication.”
I roll my eyes, but truth is, I like having him here. Jacko’s not just captain material; he’s the kind of guy you can pace yourself against. Always pushing. Always steady. I chase him for a few laps, legs burning, lungs opening, until the rhythm settles in.
Jonno barks from the boards, “Line drills! Move it!”
We line up, shoulders heaving, and I fall into the rhythm of sprints, crossovers, backward skates. It’s brutal. My thighs arescreaming before we even start the stickhandling circuits. The ice feels smaller when you’re chasing pucks like a madman, but that’s the point; sharpen the edges, tighten the reflexes.
By the time Jonno calls it, sweat is dripping down my neck and my shirt is plastered to my back. My legs feel like jelly, but it’s a good kind of pain. The kind that reminds you it’s game day.
Jacko skates over, slapping his stick against mine. “Not bad, kid. You might survive tonight.”
“Might,” I wheeze.
He laughs, patting my helmet. “Come on. Let’s hit the showers before Jonno invents another drill.”
We end up at the community bakery where Maya works around noon. The place smells like heaven, warm cinnamon and fresh bread wrapping around me the moment we step in. Maya’s behind the counter, hair pulled into a messy bun, flour streaking her cheek. She looks up, and her face lights like she’s genuinely glad to see us.
“Owen. Ollie. You’re early.”
“Hungry,” Jacko says, grinning. “And we’ve got a growing boy here.” He claps my shoulder.
I roll my eyes. “You just want an excuse to eat three pastries without Maya giving you grief.”
“Correct,” he says cheerfully.
Maya laughs and waves us toward a table. “Sit. I’ll bring you something. Coffee?”
“Yes, please,” I say. My legs still ache from the drills, and coffee sounds like salvation.
Jacko heads for his usual corner, already making himself at home. I trail after him, trying not to look as knackered as I feel. The place is quiet, just the hum of ovens in the back.
When Maya sets down coffee and a tray of sandwiches that look big enough to feed a rugby team, Jacko digs in immediately. I sip my coffee first, grateful for the warmth.
It’s comfortable, sitting here with them. Maybe too comfortable. Because before I can stop myself, I say it, “I think I’m in trouble.”
Jacko pauses mid-bite, eyebrows raised. “Trouble?”
Maya tilts her head, giving me her full attention. She’s got that calm, grounding presence that makes you want to spill everything.
I rub a hand over my face. “With Chloe. I mean, we’ve been… seeing each other. A bit. And it’s,” I break off, groaning. “It’s a lot.”
Jacko smirks knowingly. “Define ‘a bit.’”
I glare at him. “Don’t start.”
Maya sets her elbows on the table, chin resting in her palm. “Do you like her?”
“Yes,” I say, maybe too quickly. “God, yes. She’s,” I falter, trying to put it into words. Chloe’s laughter. The way she fires back when I tease her. The fact that kissing her feels like I’ve been starving and she’s the only thing that feeds me. “She’s brilliant. And terrifying. And I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Maya smiles softly. “That doesn’t sound like trouble. That sounds like falling for someone.”
Jacko leans back in his chair, arms folded. “So, what’s the problem?”
“Murphy. The team,” I admit, dropping my voice. “You know what they’re like. If they find out, they’ll ostracise me after what happened between her and Murph. And Chloe’s part of this world now. The whole shadowing the team thing. I don’t want to make her life harder.”
Jacko studies me for a long moment, then nods. “I get it. But hiding it? That’s harder. Secrets have a way of blowing up in your face.”
Maya adds gently, “People care more than you think. And the ones who matter? They’ll respect you both.”
