Chapter 3

Asher

The puck is secure on the blade of my stick as I race down the ice towards our goal. Sweat drips down my face as my muscles tense, preparing for the shot. The roar of the crowd urges me on. It's a feeling that never gets old. I force everything to fade away, and it's just me, the puck, and the net.

"Jet, over here!" Ryder's voice cuts through the noise, and I flick my wrist to send the puck flying his way rather than shooting. He catches it with ease and weaves around the defenders, but not before sending it back my way. The connection with my stick is perfect.

I take the shot this time, and the world seems to slow down as the puck soars through the air, finding its mark in the top corner of the net. The buzzer blares as the lights bounce around the arena in red and white flashes all around. My teammates swarm me, pounding me on the back and shouting congratulations. We've done it. Another win for the Charleston Renegades.

"Great job, man!" Ryder yells. Dakota follows suit, pulling me into a bear hug that nearly lifts me off the ground. These guys are more than just teammates; they're my brothers, my support system. We've been through thick and thin together, and I’m proud to share this victory with them.

As we head off the ice, Ryder claps me on the shoulder. "Let's hit Sand Dunes to celebrate," he suggests. It's become our go-to spot, it’s on our way home in the small beach town just outside of Charleston named Love Beach. So, it’s a little off the beaten path where paparazzi and tons of fans tend not to go, making it the perfect place to unwind.

We pile into the lively sports bar and grill, greeted by the aroma of burgers and fries, and the warm lighting of neon lights. TVs mounted on the walls show highlights from our game, and we're greeted by the patrons and staff congratulating us on our win.

"Drinks are on me!" Dakota announces, ordering a round of beers for us. We toast to our victory, the clink of our bottles echoing throughout the bar. This is what I live for. The thrill of the game, the camaraderie with my teammates, the satisfaction of a hard-fought victory.

My life revolves around hockey. Rather, hockey is my family.

***

The next night, my roommates and I wanted a relaxing night at the beach for our night off. So, here we are gathering around a crackling campfire, and trying to find peace away from the hectic world of professional hockey. We take these precious few moments between our busy Charleston Renegades schedules.

"Man, there's nothing like a beach bonfire," Dakota muses, poking at the fire with a stick, sending sparks into the air. “Well, except for a lady under me.”

The smell of burning wood fills my nostrils, mixing with the salty sea breeze. I feel the warmth of the fire on my face, and the sand between my toes, still holding onto the heat of the day.

“Oh, God, Lucky. We don’t want to hear details,” I quip back.

"Anyhow, I’d hardly call it a bonfire," Kaleb chimes in, nursing a beer in one hand while tossing a marshmallow that’s on the end of a stick into the flames with the other. "We barely have enough wood in there to keep the fire going."

I nod in agreement, taking a swig from my own beer and gazing out at the crashing waves. The rhythmic sound of the ocean is soothing.

“I’m going to go for a walk on the beach. I’ll bring back any firewood I find.”

"Sounds like a plan," Kaleb replies, giving me a nod of approval.

I walk along the shoreline, the waves gently lapping at my feet and the moon shining off the water. As I search for firewood, I catch sight of a figure further up the beach. She's standing near a pile of driftwood, and her long, flowing light brown hair blows gently.

"Hey, you going to hog all that wood!" I call out, hoping to get her attention. The woman jumps slightly. She turns to face me, and the first thing I notice is her striking crystal blue eyes. They seem to sparkle even in the moonlight.

"Oh, hi. Sorry, you startled me. I didn't realize anyone else was out here," she responds cautiously.

"Sorry if I scared you," I apologize, closing the distance to her. "I'm just looking for firewood to keep our campfire going."

"Ah, I see," she says, gesturing to the driftwood pile beside her. "Well, there's plenty here."

"Thanks," I reply, picking up a few pieces. Her gaze lingers on me as I bend down, and I like it. A little too much. I have to be careful to keep my semi from showing, or else she’ll think I’m a perve and run off.

"By the way, I'm Asher," I say with an easy smile, trying to break through the tension.

"Elle," she replies, her lips curving into a smile that lights up her whole face.

She’s a tiny little thing, just like the tiny homes in the distance. Elle’s head only comes up to about my nipples, but she’s adorable.

"Nice to meet you, Elle. So, are you just out here collecting driftwood for fun?" I tease.

"Absolutely. It's my favorite pastime. Can't get enough of the stuff." She rolls those big blue eyes and laughs. I start picking up the pieces of wood, and she joins in to help.

"Really?" I chuckle. "I thought I was the only one who loved late-night driftwood scavenger hunts."

"Ah, a fellow enthusiast. It's rare to find someone with such refined tastes," Elle quips with a smile as she picks up another piece.

"Indeed, but I have other interests too," I say, trying to delve deeper into who she is. "What are yours?"

"Outdoor adventures are definitely my jam," Elle confesses. "I love just exploring new places and hanging out with friends." She hesitates before adding, "Though lately, I've been so focused on becoming a nurse that there hasn't been much time for fun."

"Wow, that's impressive," I respond. "It takes a lot of dedication to pursue a career like that."

"Thanks," Elle says, smiling. "What about you? What drives you besides your love for adventure and driftwood?"

"Ha! Hockey is my world, and I like hanging out with my friends also," I admit.

"Sounds like we have more in common than just our driftwood obsession," she teases, giving me a playful nudge.

"Seems that way," I agree, grinning at the thought. “Would you want to meet my friends and hang for a bit?”

“Umm,” she looks back at the tiny house community and then back to me. “Sure, why not?” She shrugs her shoulders. “Lead the way, Mr. Driftwood.”

We talk as we walk back to the campfire. I find out a lot about her in the short time. The main point learned is that our lives are drastically different. She's working hard to get into nursing school, juggling multiple jobs to support herself, while I'm living this hockey-centric life, with all its expectations and stresses.

"Here we are," I announce as we approach where Ryder and the rest of my friends are lounging. "Guys, this is Elle. She's joining us for a bit."

"Hey Elle, nice to meet you," Ryder looks up from strumming his guitar and greets her. The others chime in with warm welcomes, making Elle visibly comfortable.

"Nice to meet you all too," she replies with a wide smile.

The night progresses with easy conversation, Elle fitting right in with the group. The fire crackles, and the moonlight reflects off the ocean as I notice Ryder playing a slow song, one perfect for dancing. I’ll have to remember to thank him later for that nudge.

"Hey, do you want to dance?" I ask Elle, standing and extending my hand towards her.

"Sure," she agrees with a grin, placing her hand in mine. We start swaying gently to the rhythm of the music, laughing as we occasionally bump into each other, our feet sinking into the warm sand.

Ryder watches us from the corner of his eye, a smile on his lips. It's as if he senses the connection between Elle and me, even though he keeps his thoughts to himself. Thank God.

The song comes to an end, and Elle rests her head on my chest. For a second, everything feels perfect. There's something about this woman that’s drawing me closer, making me want to know her more, like a magical pull.

The feeling of Elle's body against mine lingers as we reluctantly break apart, our eyes meeting with an understanding. "I should probably head back to my place," she murmurs.

"Can I walk you there?" I offer, hoping for a few more minutes.

"Sure," she agrees, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that has settled over the beach.

We start walking, leaving behind the laughter of friends. The sound of crashing waves fills the silence.

"Hey, um… Asher?" Elle says hesitantly, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For tonight. It was… nice."

"Nice?" I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I think we can do better than 'nice.'"

"Okay, well, it was amazing," she concedes, grinning. "But seriously, I haven’t had that good of a time in a long while."

"Me neither," I admit, my heart pounding as I realize how much I mean it.

We approach Elle's tiny home community, and I notice the twinkling lights of the other homes, each one nestled in its own little corner of paradise.

"Goodnight, Asher," she whispers as we stop just outside her front door, her crystal-blue eyes match the blue door and trim of her house, and they search mine.

"Goodnight, Elle," I reply, my voice barely audible as I watch her slip inside and close the door behind her. I don’t turn to walk away until I hear two clicks of locks from the other side, so I know I’m leaving her safe and sound.