Chapter 8

Riley

I stride into the Blade's Edge, my gym bag slung over my shoulder. The crisp air nips at my skin, but it's nothing compared to the knot of anticipation twisting in my gut. It's been two days since I bolted from Amelia's place, her secret hanging between us like a dense fog.

"Riley!" Coach bellows from down the hall. I'm here for one thing, and it's not drills. Amelia. I have to see her, set things straight. My gaze sweeps into the open door to the locker room before I pass it to get to Coach. However, there's no sign of that cute ponytail or the flash of hazel eyes that always seem to see right through me.

"I gave the team the day off. So, why are you here, Cap?" Coach snaps.

“I just came in to get an extra stretch in from the trainers,” I lie.

Every time the door at the end of the hallway swings open, I glance over, half-expecting, half-hoping, to see her walk in, towels in hand.

But Amelia's a ghost today.

The locker room is silent with no guys chattering around. Still no sign of her. I’m beginning to wonder if she took the day off also and find myself thumbing my phone, contemplating a text. No, this needs to be face-to-face.

I go ahead and get that stretch in, at least now I didn’t outright lie to Coach. As I’m finished and about to give up for the day, I finally catch sight of her darting around the corner with an armful of towels, her ponytail swinging.

"Amelia!" I call out, my heart picking up speed. She freezes, then turns, her eyes wide.

"Riley?" Her tone is guarded, but there's a softness there that wasn't before.

"Look, about the other night..." I start, but she cuts me off with a shake of her head.

"Let's not do this here," she says quickly, her eyes darting around the empty room.

"Then let's go out. A real date," I suggest, the words rushing out before I can second-guess them.

"Are you sure?" she asks, grappling the ends of her ponytail and bringing it to her mouth in a way that sends my thoughts careening into dangerous territory.

"Yes, I’m serious.” I mean it. Whatever her secrets, I want to know Amelia beyond the rink, beyond the whispers of teammates who don't get it, beyond a one night stand.

"Okay," she murmurs after a moment, and the tension between us shifts, becomes charged with possibility. "A date."

"Monday night after we return from our out of town game?" I push, watching her closely.

"Sure," she agrees, and I swear I feel the temperature in the room rise a few degrees.

"Great," I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. "I'll pick you up at seven."

"Make it seven-thirty," she corrects with a hint of a challenge in her gaze.

"Seven-thirty it is." I nod, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.

I left the rink and was completely buzzing the rest of the day, and until we got on the plane to head to Minnesota. I’m actually excited to play the Mammoths tomorrow night because I’ll get to see one of my old teammates from Fairfax, Ethan Hawking. It’ll be nice if I can catch up with him and his girlfriend, Journey, while I’m in town.

At school we were a tight knit team, and it’s cool to be able to still connect with former players even though the majority of us are split all over the United Stated and Canada now.

I’m sure that Jasper, Alfie, and Zach would also want to meet up with Ethan also. So I fire a quick group chat with all four of us.

Tiger’s Connect Group Chat

Me: Ethan, the Blades are on our way to Minnesota. Pregame chat, or post kick your ass chat?

Ethan: Haha… Post the Mammoths kick your ass chat. You guys can come out to mine and Journey’s place after the game.

Zach: Yo! Yo! Yo! In the air we go. Sounds good to me.

Alfie: (thumbs up emoji)

Jasper: (thumbs up emoji) It’s funny how you think you’ll be the team whipping our ass out there tomorrow. See ya soon, bro.

Just before I pocket my phone, I send off another message to give Amelia a little heads up on the date I have planned for us. I heard that girls like that kind of thing, so they know what to wear. At least my sister, Kindra, was always talking about stuff like that. Although, she’s the hopeless romantic of the family, and anything she says to do, I usually just cut it in half of the actual task and do that.

Me: Do you know how to ice skate?

Amelia: Are you asking a serious question or just trying to play with me? You know I work for a hockey team, right?

Me: Yes, I’m serious. Just because you work at a rink, doesn’t give you magical skating knowledge of how to skate.

I asked her the question, already knowing the answer because now I know her secret along with her screen name, Ms. Puck. So surely, she knows how to skate and loves hockey, right?

My thumbs race across the screen, a stupid grin plastered on my face. Amelia's texts are like shots of adrenaline.

Amelia: I think the real question you are asking is… Will I kick your ass in a 1-on-1 shootout?

Me: You’re a funny little thing, Princess. LOL!

I bite back a laugh.

Amelia: How about out of those skates? Hope you can keep up with me off the rink.

Me: Challenge accepted.

Amelia: Better bring your A-game, Watson (winking emoji)

That little round yellow face sends my thoughts into the gutter. It’s a game of word hockey we’re playing, and I’m all in for the score.

Me: Always do.

I'm still chuckling when Zach slides up next to me in the locker room, a curious look on his face.

"Are you for real, dating the towel girl?" he asks, one eyebrow cocked in disbelief.

"Yep," I say without hesitation, locking my phone and slipping it into my locker. I meet his gaze, daring him to make more of it.

"Man, you're full of surprises." He shakes his head, but there's a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Got to keep things interesting," I reply, slapping him on the back as I head out and to the trainers to prep for game time, leaving no room for judgment or doubt. Amelia is more than they see, and I'm not about to let their narrow views cloud this thing between us.

"Get ready for the game, Mickelson," I call over my shoulder.

The entire time I’m getting my ankles wrapped, I’m trying to focus on the game and not that look on Zach’s face. I was in a good mental state going into tonight’s game until he sat down and looked at me like that when I confirmed Amelia and me are indeed a thing.

After I’m done, I make my way back into the locker room, passing by the guys, who are all huddled in a corner, murmuring like they're discussing game strategies. But I know better.

"Cap," Zach says with a head nod, but his voice holds a note of strain that wasn't there yesterday.

"Zee." I nod, opening my locker with more force than necessary. "Look, you guys need to get over it."

"Get over what?" He feigns innocence, but his eyes can’t meet mine.

"Amelia. The whispers, the looks. It's high school crap, and we're not in high school."

"Can’t help it, man," Zach grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. "You’re dating a nobody. What’s up with that?"

"Nobody?" I slam my locker shut, feeling the metal echo through the room. The whispering from the other side of the room cuts out, and I know I've got their full attention. "She's part of this team, just like any one of us."

"Sure, but—" Zach tries again, but I cut him off.

"Listen, if anyone here is focused on who I'm seeing rather than on the ice, then maybe they should reconsider their priorities." I glare at each of them one at a time, finally landing my gaze back on Zach. "We're here to play hockey, not gossip."

"I hear ya," Zach relents, throwing his hands up in surrender. "But don't expect everyone to be thrilled about it."

"They don't have to be thrilled," I shoot back, grabbing my gear. "They just have to respect it."

The murmurs start up again as I walk away, but I leave them behind, focusing on the ice ahead. Amelia's secret, our flirty texts—it's all background noise compared to the game. And right now, the only thing I plan to score is goals.