6. Emile

EMILE

"Ican't believe we beat the fucking rockets!" my teammate, Declan, yells as he slaps me on the back, nearly making me spill drink all over the bar. The team celebration at Russo's is in full swing. Drinks are flowing, and the room is packed, full of celebrating Nighthawks players and whoever else managed to get an invite.

Everyone's on a high after our unexpected win. And normally, it's the kind of scene I thrive on—the energy, the camaraderie, the chance to let loose after a big win. But tonight, something feels off.

"Yeah, it was unreal," I agree, flicking the spilled beer off my hands and raising what's left in my glass as a toast. "To the Nighthawks."

"To the Nighthawks!" Declan, and whoever else is in earshot, echoes.

Declan downs his drink then slams the empty on the bar, holding two fingers up to ask for a refill for the both of us. When the drinks are ready, he keeps one and sets the other in front of me. "You're being awfully quiet tonight, Emile. After the way you played today, I'd have thought you'd be in the thick of it, letting the ladies fawn all over you. You're becoming a star."

I turn in my seat, taking a moment to watch my teammates dance and flirt with the gaggle of gorgeous women who always seem to materialize after a victory. A couple try to catch my eye, sending coy smiles and little finger waves my way, but I can't seem to muster up any interest to go join in.

"I'm just tired from the game," I say as I turn back around. "You know how it is."

"No. I don't know how it is." Declan graduated a year ahead of me and we played together in college, so we've been friends long enough for him to know when something's up. "Come on, Emile. Spill it. What's really going on?"

I force a smile, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm just not feeling it tonight, man."

He looks at me like I've grown a second head. "Not feeling it? Dude, these are the parties we used to dream of attending when we were in college. And have you seen these girls? They're smoking hot, and they're all here for us. For you."

As if to prove his point, a petite blonde in a tight dress sidles up to us and runs her hand running down my arm. "That assist during overtime was amazing, Emile."

She's pretty. I'll give her that. And Declan is right. Back in college, I'd have cut off my right arm for the chance to be the center of attention at a victory party like this. But now that I'm in the thick of it, my mind is somewhere else. Specifically, on someone else. So I give her a polite smile and gently remove her hand from my arm. "Thanks. It's always nice to meet a fan."

Her mouth kind of drops open, and she blinks a few times like she doesn't really understand what's happening. Declan quickly swoops in. "Don't mind him, sweetheart. He's up well past his bedtime. Why don't you head back to the dancefloor, and I'll meet you there soon?"

She giggles. "OK. But don't take too long."

"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'," he says, watching her walk away before turning back to me and shaking his head in disbelief. "Man, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were all hung up on someone."

"Yeah right. Like who?" I snort, trying to play it like I'm not all up in my head over a girl who keeps reminding me I'm just her ‘friend'.

He narrows his eyes, scrutinizing me like he's about to crack some complex code. "I don't fuckin' know, man. I haven't seen you with anyone." He pauses. "Well, besides when I saw you talking to Coach's daughter after the game. But that doesn't make any sense, she's not very?—"

"Don't," I warn, knowing where his mind is headed. Declan has a reputation for shooting off his mouth without thinking, and I'm not about to let him throw any shade at Sara. "You don't know her."

"Which means…you do?" Declan grins, clearly enjoying the fact he's poked at something sensitive.

"She's just a friend," I insist, the lie sitting heavy on my tongue since that's the last thing I want her to be. "Drop it, all right?"

Declan raises an eyebrow but nods, respecting my line in the sand. "Whatever you say, dude. But you should know, if she's got you acting like this, it ain't just friendship."

"Don't you have some girl waiting for you on the dancefloor?" I ask pointedly, hoping to shift the focus off of me. Declan chuckles and claps me on the shoulder.

"All right, bro. I get it, I'll back off. But great game today." With a final smirk, he saunters back toward the flashing lights and thumping bass.

The moment I'm alone again, I down the rest of my beer and stand up to leave. This whole scene just feels hollow tonight. The music is too loud, the drinks too weak, the women too eager. It's everything I usually crave after a big game, but right now, all I want is to be somewhere quiet. Somewhere I can think.

Somewhere I can figure out what to do with all these feelings I'm developing for Sara.

The cool night air feels good against my skin as I step outside, the muffled thump of the music fading behind me. I start walking, no real destination in mind, just letting my feet carry me through the familiar streets of Sugar City as I try and figure out what to do. I've never met someone and felt so…possessed before.

Every time I see her, my heart does this weird flip thing that leaves me struggling to breathe, and it's not just because I find her whole librarian vibe gorgeous. There's something about the way she looks at me, like she sees past the hockey pads, right into who I really am.

I'm not surprised when I find myself outside Natalie's restaurant. The lights are still on, but it's late and only a few lingering patrons are visible through the windows. I'm about to turn away, not wanting to bother my sister while she's working, when I spot a familiar figure sitting alone at the bar.

Luc.

Before I can second guess myself, I'm pushing open the door, the soft tinkle of the bell announcing my arrival. Luc looks up, surprise flickering across his face when he sees me.

"Emile? What are you doing here? I thought you'd be out celebrating with the team."

"I thought you and Natalie would be off celebrating your engagement." I hold my hand out and shake his. "Congratulations, and welcome to the family."

"Thank you." Luc's face softens into a smile. "She'll join me soon. We'll celebrate when all the work is done. So, what brings you here? Team celebrations weren't fun tonight?"

I slide onto the stool next to him, signaling to the bartender for a drink. "Something like that. I don't know, it just wasn't doing it for me."

Luc nods, understanding in his eyes. "Yeah, I get that. I was never really into the big blow-out parties. Even during college."

"See, I used to love them. But tonight…all I wanted to do was leave. Maybe I'm just getting old."

Luc chuckles. "You're twenty-six, rookie. You've got a bit of youth in you, yet."

I manage a rueful grin, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe there's just something—or someone—I'd rather be with."

Luc raises an eyebrow. "Is that someone by any chance about five foot three, with straight brown hair and eyes the same color as the coach's daughter?"

"Am I that obvious?"

Luc takes a sip of his whiskey, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Not that I've noticed. But Natalie told me about Sara asking to wear your number during the game today. Then she saw the way you were looking at her after I proposed, so…one plus one."

"She asked to wear it." A slow smile spreads across my face. "She told me she was cold and Natalie offered, so that's… it's good to know."

Luc tilts his head, studying me. "Sounds like a good sign, perhaps?"

"Definitely. She keeps making comments about us ‘just being friends'. And I know this is complicated since she's the coach's daughter and all, but that's not how I feel. I don't want to just be her friend."

Luc is quiet for a long moment. "You know, I said the same thing about Natalie. That it was too complicated, that I needed to focus on hockey, that I couldn't afford the distraction." He smiles, his eyes distant. "But then I realized that she wasn't complicated at all. She was the thing that made everything else make sense. The thing that made me want to be better, on and off the ice."

"So what you're saying is that I should go for it, complications and all?"

"Exactly. Life's full of complications, Emile. But some are worth every bit of the trouble they bring."

"Even if they could cost me my place on the team when Coach finds out?"

Luc's expression turns serious. "The team is important, Emile, but it's not everything. There are others out there you could play for. Besides, a career can end in a heartbeat—one bad hit, one unlucky fall. But someone who truly sees you, who believes in you? That's rare. You shouldn't sleep on that."