Chapter 6

Summer is alreadyon the bus when I climb back on with my food, Felix and Alec right behind me. This doesn't surprise me—I saw her in line ahead of me, talking to Malik the entire time—but I'm still disappointed to see her sitting at the small table in the back, looking over a folder of paperwork with Malik, a half-eaten burrito sitting beside her.

We used to eat inside, an effort to keep the bus from smelling like whatever it is we're eating, but with the Appies' growing fame, hiding out on the bus has become a lot easier. Especially when we're traveling, and we don't really feel like dealing with people and attention.

Admittedly, that's pretty much how I feel all the time, but even the guys like Eli—who has the biggest online following and thrives in the spotlight—need a break sometimes.

Last I heard, Malik was trying to convince Larry, the Appies' owner, to approve a new standard of travel for the team, using chartered flights instead of the buses we've been using for years. Private charters are how teams get around in the NHL, so it's not unheard of, and with how much the Appies are making, between sold-out games, a huge uptick in merch, and bigger corporate sponsors, it seems like a logical next step. Not because we deserve the luxury any more than we did before, but because of things like this—because of how hard it's getting to travel normally.

We're recognized almost everywhere we go.

With Summer back with Malik and the coaching staff, I drop into the seat where I originally started the trip, across the aisle from Felix and right beside Alec.

"Your guard dog shift ended?" Alec asks through an enormous bite of burrito.

I motion toward the back of the bus. "She's occupied."

It's as much of an explanation as I'm going to give, though it seems to appease him well enough. I realize how I made it look when I planted myself in Summer's row and wouldn't let the team continue the joke they'd planned. But I wasn't about to let Dominik get within ten feet of her. So what if it means the rest of the guys think I'm staking a claim?

She's too good for all of us anyway—me included—so she's better off if they all keep their distance.

"You know what everyone's saying now, right?" Alec says, confirming my suspicions. "Pretty sure the rookies have bets going on how long it'll take you to ask her out."

"Let them bet," I grumble in between bites of food. "It's none of their business, so they'll never know one way or the other."

"True," Felix says. "But we're your friends, man. If you ever want to talk about anything, you can make it our business."

"What are we talking about?" Eli says as he drops into the seat just in front of Felix.

"Nathan's love life," Alec says. "Or at least his effort to have one."

"Sweet. Somebody catch me up," Eli says.

"We're not talking about anything because there's nothing to talk about. I just don't want Dominik anywhere near her." I look over at Alec. "Or you."

Not sure why I feel compelled to suddenly include Alec in my warning, except that he's staying for the Flex meeting so he'll be around her as much as I will be. He's also the only other single one present, and he's real competition. The man looks more like an actor pretending to be a hockey player than one of the best defensemen in the AHL.

Alec chuckles and holds up his hands. "Dude, I know better. You've made your intentions clear. I'm not about to interfere."

"That's not it," I shoot back. "I don't have any intentions. I'm just saying you shouldn't either."

Alec and Eli exchange a look.

"Right," Alec says. "That…sounds believable."

"I don't care if you believe it. It's the truth."

My teammates drop the issue, though I doubt they believe me. As the bus pulls away and gets us back on the road, I wonder how much they should. It's taking all my willpower not to turn around and find Summer. Is she still sitting with Malik? Is she okay? Did she finish her dinner?

If I'm not interested, why do I even care?

Three hours later, I'm no closer to understanding my motives or my feelings where Summer is concerned, but we've finally arrived at the hotel, so at least I'll be able to put some space between us and clear my head.

Malik heads inside to get us checked in while the rest of us gather our things. Once all the players are off the bus, the support staff will take our gear over to the arena so it will all be ready for us tomorrow.

"Has Coach said anything about morning skate?" Felix asks through a yawn. "Is it optional?"

"Not that I've heard," Alec answers. He stands up and yells to the back of the bus. "Hey, Coach! Are we doing a morning skate tomorrow?"

I sit up a little taller so I can hear Coach's answer. A morning skate on game days is routine for a lot of teams, but Coach Davis doesn't always schedule them. When he does, they're usually optional. Sometimes I like the chance to get on the ice and clear my head, but it's also a lot of work to gear up twice in one day. If given the choice, I'd rather sleep in.

"No morning skate," Coach Davis calls back. "Just a team meeting at ten in the hotel ballroom."

Alec drops back into his seat. "Sweet. Ten a.m. means there's plenty of time to go out tonight and still get enough sleep. Who's in?"

"Sorry, man," Felix says. "I've got a phone date with Gracie."

Alec rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Nathan? You in?"

I find myself wondering what Summer's plans are. As much as I was just hoping to spend some time away from her, I know without having to think about it that if she goes out with Alec and the rest of the guys, I'll go too.

"Yeah, maybe," I say, leaving the door open enough for me to change my mind.

"Excellent," Alec says. "I'm sure Van will want to go." He looks over his shoulder. "I'll ask Summer, too."

I practically hold my breath as Malik climbs back onto the bus and passes out our room keys. Alec has moved to the back and is talking to Summer, and I'm doing my best not to seem interested in her response. I keep my eyes glued to my phone until Alec reappears beside me, slapping me on the back with enough force to rock me forward.

"Okay, you have to come now because Summer's coming."

"Because she's coming? Why does that mean I have to go?"

Alec waves away my question like it's inconsequential. "You, me, Van, Tucker, and Dumbo." He looks over at Felix. "Hey. You're from here, right? Do you know the area? Where should we go?"

"You want to eat?" Felix asks.

Alec glances at his watch. "It's about time for second dinner, so yeah."

Felix mentions a deep-dish pizza place a few blocks away, and we agree to meet in the hotel lobby in half an hour. I'm tempted to hang back and wait for Summer, who was last to get her room key and is still talking to Malik, but without a real reason, it would only make me look desperate, so I grab my bag and follow Alec and Van to the elevator.

"Hey, is Malik single?" I ask while we ride up to the third floor. I've never thought or cared about the eligibility of our general manager, but now that he's spending so much time talking to Summer, it feels like relevant information.

"He's engaged," Alec says.

"Dude, for real?" Van asks. "How do you even know that?"

"Not because he told me. I ran into his fiancée in the parking lot at the Summit," Alec says. "She introduced herself."

I can't blame Malik for wanting to keep his fiancée to himself, especially with how everyone has been ribbing Eli since he got married, though I don't think anyone on the team has the nerve to tease Malik the same way we tease each other.

Once we're off the elevator, we part ways, and Alec and Van head to the left while I head to the right.

Two seasons ago, we were doubling up in hotel rooms, but now, everyone has their own room. That alone feels worth a few of Parker's TikTok videos looking…the way I normally look. Which I guess is brooding?

My phone vibrates in my pocket as soon as I'm in my room, and I pull it out to see a text from my mom.

Mom

Just talked to Blake. Nathan, I'm so worried about him. Has he told you about the new plea deal they've offered him? He keeps saying he's innocent and doesn't want to plead guilty, but I'm beginning to wonder if he should. The attorney made this sound like the best possible outcome.

I sigh and drop onto the corner of the bed to type out a reply.

Nathan

What's the deal?

Mom

I don't understand all the details. Something about eighteen months in juvenile detention, then community service. But that would mean no hockey. You know what that would do to Blake.

I wish I could help Mom understand the details, but Blake's attorney is avoiding my calls with expert efficiency. Short of driving up to Boston and camping outside his office—something that would technically be a lot easier for Mom than it would be for me—I'm not sure what else to do.

I've at least managed to talk to Blake a few more times, and If he's telling me the truth, he shouldn't plead guilty to anything. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got caught up with some older guys on the team whom he wanted to impress. But he wasn't the one committing a crime.

He definitely doesn't deserve eighteen months of juvenile detention, and he can't stop playing hockey. At sixteen, Blake still has some growing to do on the ice, but he's already better than I was at his age, and he's in a great program. If he works hard his junior and senior years, I could see him getting drafted into the NHL right out of high school. But that won't happen if he has a criminal record before he even graduates, not to mention all the time on the ice he would lose.

Nathan

I haven't gotten through yet, but I'll keep trying. Have they given you a date for his arraignment?

Mom

Not that I've heard. If you could find that out too, that would be great.

I drop my phone onto the bed with a frustrated sigh. I don't know how I'm supposed to figure any of this out when I can't be there in person and I can't get anyone to answer my phone calls.

I think again about the possibility of asking Summer for help. I almost did last week at Felix's, and I've thought about it multiple times since, but ultimately, I decided it's pointless to ask until I actually talk to Blake's attorney. She can't give me advice when I can't tell her what's going on.

But that conversation has been harder to have than I thought it would be. And now, with a plea deal on the table and the possibility of juvenile detention, I don't know that I have time to wait for the guy to call me back.

I pocket my phone and unzip my bag so I can change into something besides sweats. Malik and Coach Davis like us to travel in Appies wear, representing the team image, which is fine with me. Our stuff is high-quality and comfortable. But when only a few of us are going out, wearing matching team gear is an excellent way to draw unwanted attention.

I throw on a pair of jeans and a pullover, then retrieve my room key and my wallet from the dresser. The dresser is right beside one of those interior connecting doors in my room, and I don't realize until I'm right beside it that it's open.

I move to close and lock it—but I hesitate as the sound of laughter floats through the doorway.

I recognize that laughter. It's Summer. Which means her hotel room is right beside mine. I look closer, immediately noticing that the door on Summer's side isn't fully closed either. It's mostly closed, so she probably hasn't noticed, but it isn't latched.

I could walk right into her hotel room. Assuming it is her and not someone who just sounds like her. Either way, this has to be a safety issue. Aren't these doors supposed to remain closed and locked unless someone specifically requests adjoining rooms?

The voice on the other side of the door moves closer, and I strain to listen. It's definitely Summer, and…did she just say my name?

My heart starts pounding as I lean even closer. I shouldn't be eavesdropping. I should close the door, lock it, and forget she's on the other side of the wall. But something holds me there—some desperate curiosity to know what she thinks about me.

"I have no idea," Summer says. "I've wondered a few times, but he…"

And that's when I lean a little too far…and crash forward right into the middle of Summer's hotel room, landing on the floor at the foot of her bed in a very ungraceful heap.

Summer screams, and the next thing I know, pillows are raining down on me with rapid-fire precision. Something heavy and sharp hits my shoulder—that definitely wasn't a pillow—then a second blow catches me in the arm. A shoe. She's throwing shoes at me. How many shoes does one woman bring on a three-night trip?

I scramble to my feet, dodging a hairbrush, some kind of hair tool thing, cord dangling, and a book before I hold my hands up in what I hope looks like a gesture of peace and surrender. "Summer, it's me!"

I finally lay eyes on her, and my face flushes hot.

The shirt and jacket Summer has been wearing all day are gone, and she's in a thin tank top with tiny straps and silky-looking fabric. She's decent, but it doesn't look like clothing people are actually supposed to see. Her skin is flushed, her cheeks and chest pink, and her eyes are wide. Her cell phone is in one hand, and the other is clutching a hair dryer, arm pulled back like she's ready to hurl it at me.

"Nathan?" She finally says.

Before I can answer, a voice sounds through the phone. She must have the call on speaker. "Summer? Are you okay? What's happening?"

Summer lowers the hair dryer and drops it onto the bed. "I'm fine," she says, her voice still holding a tinge of panic. "A left defender just bulldozed through my door, but other than that, everything's great."

"A left what?" the voice says. I'm guessing it's a sister because it sounds a lot like Summer herself.

"It's a hockey position," Summer says, leveling me with a glare that makes me flush with embarrassment.

"I still don't understand," the woman on the phone says. "A hockey player broke down your door?"

I swallow against the growing knot in my throat. "I'm really sorry." I point next door. "That's my hotel room, and I realized the connecting doors were open, so I went to close mine, but then I…fell."

My explanation sounds lame, and Summer clearly agrees because her eyes narrow.

"You fell?"

"Your door was unlocked too. I swear it was an accident."

The woman on the phone giggles. "I bet it was."

"Uh-huh," Summer says like she doesn't quite believe me. She tosses her phone onto the bed and walks toward me, stepping over the pillows littering the floor so we're standing face to face.

She's close enough now that I can feel the warmth of her, catch the faint scent of her hair, which I may or may not have branded into my memory when she fell asleep against me on the bus.

"You weren't leaning on the door?" Summer asks. "You weren't trying to hear my conversation?"

I run a hand across my face. I am completely cornered, and she knows it. "Only enough to see if it was really you. But I swear, I didn't hear anything."

She purses her lips, her expression growing even more doubtful, but there's something playful about her eyes that eases the tension building in my shoulders.

"Pretty sure he's lying, Summer. His voice sounds guilty."

I look at the phone and lift my eyebrows in question.

"My sister, Lucy," Summer says. "Lucy, this is Nathan."

"The Nathan?" Lucy gasps. "Oh, gosh. I just said that out loud, didn't I?"

Ha. So they were talking about me.

Summer's jaw tightens, and her eyes widen the slightest bit, like she can't quite believe Lucy's words, but she doesn't break my gaze. "You did. But since Nathan already eavesdropped on our conversation, he already knew we were talking about him." She leans forward the slightest bit. "Didn't you, Nathan?"

"I wasn't eavesdropping!" I quickly say. "At least…not on purpose."

"And yet, you were leaning against the door enough to fall through it," Summer says. "Was that also an accident?"

It's suddenly very easy to imagine Summer in a courtroom. This cross-examination hasn't been going on longer than thirty seconds, and I'm already sweating.

"Uh-oh, that's her attorney voice," Lucy says. "Better tell the truth, Nathan."

Fire flashes in Summer's eyes, a smile playing around her lips.

"Fine," I concede. "I heard my name."

"Go on," she prompts.

"And…something about you not having an idea, wondering if he…something. I swear, that's all I heard." I'd love to know how she would have finished that sentence had I not fallen through her door. But I'm not about to ask that question now. I'm in enough trouble as it is.

Summer lifts a finger and pokes it into my chest. "You're lucky you didn't hear worse. Or see worse."

She glances down at her tank top, and I'm reminded again just how much of her skin is exposed. This is the only context in which seeing more of Summer really would be worse because I would be seeing more without her consent.

"I really am sorry, Summer."

Her pointer finger is still pressed against me, and she slides it slightly up, flattening her palm against my chest and giving me a playful nudge toward the door.

"You're forgiven," she says. "But you should go now so I can finish changing."

I take a step back, stumbling over one of the pillows. "Can I pick these up for you?"

She lets out a tiny, exasperated sigh. "I'll get them. Just…" She makes a shooing motion with her hand.

"Got it. Going. Sorry again."

I make fast work of closing both doors between our rooms and locking the one on my side. I lean against it, my head resting against the cool metal, and groan.

I am the biggest idiot.

I should have closed and locked the door the second I realized it was open. Bare minimum, I should have apologized and left a lot faster than I did. She was clearly in the process of changing her clothes, and I just stood there, staring.

The image of her, eyes wide and wild, skin flushed, flashes through my mind, and I close my eyes. I can't be happy this happened, but I also can't regret having caught a glimpse of her looking so…alive. She didn't cower in the corner—she threw whatever she could get her hands on. Her impulse wasn't to flee, it was to fight.

I get the sense that's just how Summer is. I love that about her.

Instead of going straight to the lobby, I wait outside Summer's room, leaning against the wall opposite her door. I'd like to apologize again, but mostly I just want to make sure the next time I see her after having fallen into her hotel room isn't in front of my teammates. I don't think she'll say anything to embarrass me—though I would deserve it if she did—but I've already done enough to give my friends the impression that something is up between Summer and me. If I can avoid doing so, I'd rather not fuel the fire.

I wait long enough that I start to wonder if I missed her, or if maybe she decided to stay in to avoid seeing me, but then her door swings open.

Summer looks good. Jeans. A black sweater with a deep V-neck that shows the smooth skin beneath her collarbones, her coat looped over one arm. I don't know anything about women's fashion. But I like Summer's style. She always looks great at work, dressier than most people at the Summit, and she looks good like this, too. But then, I'm beginning to think she'd look good in anything.

She startles when she sees me, a hand lifting to her chest. "Geez. Have you made it your mission to scare me tonight?"

"Sorry." I clear my throat. "That's why I'm waiting for you. I wanted to apologize again."

She shoots me a wry grin. "The first three times weren't enough?"

"Not even close." I fall into step beside her, and we head down the hall toward the elevator. "I owe you at least half a dozen more."

"Hmm. Should I work this to my advantage? I'm not above bribery, Nathan. Gifts, treats, flowers…" She taps her chin like she's considering. "Lilies are my favorite. And peanut MMs. Ohhh, and those apple cider donuts at the Harvest Hollow Farmer's Market."

I let out a chuckle, committing the list to memory despite my resistance to the idea of a relationship. "Whatever it takes. I shouldn't have been eavesdropping. I really am sorry."

She shakes her head dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Honestly, I'm glad it was you who fell through my door and not a random stranger."

The thought of someone else—someone dangerous—stumbling into Summer's hotel room makes my blood run cold, and I'm tempted to storm up to the front desk and let them know exactly how risky it is to leave those doors unlocked.

"It's really not safe," I grumble. "I could have been anyone."

"But you aren't just anyone." We stop outside the elevators, and she pushes the down button. "You're you, and despite my initial reaction when you collapsed onto my floor"—she smiles coyly—"I'm not actually scared of you."

She holds my gaze, fire flashing in her eyes, and a slow heat spreads through my chest, pushing out to my fingertips.

I guess it's good one of us isn't scared—because she scares the hell out of me.

"Hey, listen," I say as the elevator doors ding open and we step inside. "Do you think the two of us could talk later? In private?"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really," I answer, opting for honesty. "There's a thing happening with my little brother, and I could use some legal advice."

"Oh," she says, her shoulders dropping in a way that makes me wonder if she's disappointed that my reason is so practical. "Like…a criminal thing? Is it urgent? We can always skip going out and just talk now."

The elevator opens into the lobby, revealing Alec, Van, Tucker, and Dumbo already standing near the door.

"It's not urgent. After is good. Or whenever it's convenient."

She nods as we walk toward my teammates. "Okay. I'm happy to help. And we've already established that you know exactly where to find me." She gives me that same flirty smile, and my heart turns over in my chest.

Alec raises his eyebrows as he steps beside me while Summer moves off to talk to Van. "What was that about?" He tilts his head toward Summer.

"What was what about? I ran into her on the elevator."

"Right," Alec says dryly. "And sitting with her on the bus today was only about keeping Dominik away."

"Stop. It's nothing. I already told you it's nothing. Are we going? I'm hungry."

Alec chuckles and slaps me on the back. "Relax, Bruiser. We're going."

A few feet away, Summer laughs at something Van says, and an uncomfortable envy takes up residence in my chest.

Yeah. Relax. I have a feeling that's going to be easier said than done.