“What are you doing out here?” Travis asked, dropping his hands and crossing them over his wide chest. “Because I know you’re not planning to try out for the Net Crashers.”
“God, no,” I grunted and shook off the idea like it was repulsive. “And it’s also none of your business.”
His eyes widened slightly with the raise of his dark, brutal eyebrows and then relaxed. The stupidly attractive ball cap he always wore just made the darkness of his stare, shrouded in shadows, that much hotter. “Fine. Keep it to yourself, just like everything else.”
Travis turned away from me and walked back towards the boards, and my shoulders sank for being so mean to him. He didn’t deserve that, not really.
I didn’t remember Travis from when I was growing up; he was a few years older than me and didn’t hang around with younger kids. But when I moved back, he was always around somehow. Living his mostly silent, and to himself life, yet at the same time he was part of everything in town.
His construction company was one of the best-known names in town, his men were on site at every project going on. And the homes he built, God. Talk about dreamy.
His parents still owned the truck dealership on the edge of town, and everyone local bought their vehicles there. Some even traveled back to Cedar Bluff for them, bypassing anyone else for the honest Hayes Family Dealership. And then there was the rink I worked at.
He worked on the Zamboni and other miscellaneous machines, keeping the place afloat, he played for the Net Crashers, and he coached various hockey clinics in his free time.
Travis Hayes was like a steady and strong fixture in the community. And one of the most loyal people I’d ever met, even if I avoided him because of my stupid little crush.
“I’m trying to learn how to skate.” I called out, surprising myself and grimacing when he turned to look at me over his shoulder. “For Emmie.”
Turning to face me again, he slowly started walking back. “For her hockey team?”
For some reason, the fact that he knew my daughter was on a hockey team made my stomach flutter.
With my cheeks ablaze, I nodded and tucked my hands in my flannel sleeves. I really needed to remember gloves the next time. “Parents are supposed to go out on the ice with them at practice, to help, but I can’t. And I’m failing her because I can’t help her. None of the coaches will help her. They just ignore her the whole time.”
His jaw tightened slightly as he came to a stop. “What about her dad?”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes because the truth was, I didn’t want to talk about Danny with Travis. He wouldn’t understand.
“Not around.” I shrug, “It’s just me.”
He took a deep breath and looked out around the empty ice. “How long have you been doing this?” He glared at me again, “Using the ice alone at night, when no one else is around to help you if you get hurt?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned away from him as I tried to skate confidently. “A few weeks.”
“And that’s the best you’ve got?”
I glared at him as I circled him, and his face twitched a little, almost as if he wanted to smile, but stopped himself. “Not helpful.”
“Get off the ice.” He said curtly, walking away from me without another glance, and I stopped pushing, gliding to a stop.
“Excuse me?”
“Get off the ice.” He repeated, “It’s too damn late, I’m too tired to stick around and babysit you and I’m not willing to leave you alone here, bound to crack your head open and become a bloody popsicle.”
I brushed off the common thought we both had about my abilities and bristled at his tone instead. “No, thanks.”
Damn, that felt bratty.
Andgood.
“Frankie.” He snapped, glaring at me. “Get off the ice.”
“No.” I pushed off away from him, annoyed.
“Damnit.”
“Go home, Travis.” I argued, “I’m fine!”
