“This thing again.” He frowned at it. “The tracker.”
“It’s a device I’ve protoyped. You’ll wear it for the duration of the time you partner with me. It measures heart rate, adrenaline spikes, the physiological works and sends it all to E.M.M.A.,” Harriet confirmed as she set up a camera. “It will give the AI all your performance data to go along with the footage.”
Gale nodded, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach. Was it the prospect of being monitored so closely, or was it Harriet’s proximity? He couldn’t quite tell. “Listen, before we start. I hate to ask, but I kind of need a favor.”
Harriet looked up from the camera, curiosity written across her face. “I’m listening.”
“We gotta play outta town tomorrow—well, the team does.” He swallowed hard, knowing she already knew about Coach’s decision. She’d been nothing but professional about it, not mentioning the healthy scratch even though it had to be affecting her data collection. “But I need someone to feed Little Mama and check the kittens. Would you mind? I can give you my house keys after we’re done.”
Harriet’s eyes softened. “Of course. I’d love to.”
“Alright, Knight,” a voice boomed from across the rink. The skills coach, Ryan, stood, arms crossed. “Let’s get to it.”
Gale felt the pressure set in. “Right. Duty calls.” He gave Harriet a quick wave and skated out onto the ice. For the next hour, Gale pushed himself harder than he had in months, drill after drill—he gave it his absolute all. He was acutely aware of her presence in the stands, her eyes following his stick handling. Her fingers danced across the tablet while he ran through puck control, dekeing moves, back-to-the-basics shit.
Ryan’s voice rang out, “Alright, let’s run through some offensive zone entries. Knight, you’re on the rush. Show me what you’ve got.”
Maybe it was his imagination but he swore he could feel E.M.M.A.’s band tightening slightly on his wrist. His mind drifted—suddenly he was back on his couch, Harriet’s body pressed against his, the way she’d tasted like sweet wine and heat, how her fingers had curled into his shirt. The soft sound she’d made when he’d deepened the kiss. Four days ago and he could still feel every moment of it, still remember how her tongue had slid against his, how she’d taken control and made his head spin—
“Knight! Earth to Knight!”
Gale blinked, the fantasy evaporating. He was still on the ice, Ryan glaring at him. Harriet stood by the boards, tablet in hand, looking at him with concern. That kiss had been real—one perfectmoment before everything got complicated. But he’d wanted her for so much longer than that.
“You okay there, Gale?” she asked. “You went a million miles away.”
As he skated toward Ryan, he caught Harriet’s quick wave. That smile hit him in the gut, same way it always had. Same way it probably always would.
He took a deep breath, trying to focus on the coach’s advice, but his mind kept drifting back to her—not just the kiss, but all of it. Her blond ponytail, her glasses always slightly a fraction askew, the way she’d shown up at dawn for a cat emergency without hesitation. His head was spinning.
What the hell was he doing? He had a career to save, a team counting on him, and now kittens at home. He didn’t have time to sort out whatever this... thing with Harriet was.
Did he?
The question knocked the air from his lungs. This thing with Harriet was different—riskier, deeper. He should probably back off. Problem was, he didn’t want to.
Chapter Nine
I’m knee-deep in Gale’s data for E.M.M.A., juggling wearable stats, video footage, and medical records when my phone buzzes. Damn. There goes my flow state. My eyes ache as I frown at the screen and adjust my glasses, the numbers blurring slightly.Mental note: book an eye exam soon.
Hana’s text blazes with six red alarm emojis.Code Red: Bathroom by fountains. COME NOW!
Code red? Tampon shortage? I snatch my purse and stand, my chair squeaking in protest—a sure sign I’ve been butt-in-chair too long.
I speed to the hallway in question and push open the heavy bathroom door. I’m about to call out when Hana materializes, pressing a finger to my lips. The scent of her freesia hand lotion wafts over me. Her brown eyes are wide, urgent. Whatever’s going on, it’s bigger than a run-of-the-mill period emergency. The strained silence is broken only by the ancient plumbing’s distant gurgle. Her breathing comes fast and shallow—I’ve never seen her like this. Usually, she’s one cool cucumber.
I shoot her my best “What the hell?” look, eyebrows practically touching my hairline. She doesn’t say a word, just grabs my wrist and drags me to the far wall before pointing up. There’s a row of high windows, one cracked open—the cleaning crew’s usual MO.
Listen.She mouths the word.
That’s when I first hear the deep male voices outside. It takes me a second before I pick up the Little Rock twang from Chadwick Moore, the leader of the group of TrainTech bros that we all refer to privately as the Chads. The other two are then identifiable... it’s Chet and Chas, his two subordinates. There is a faint smell of vaping.
I strain to hear, catching snippets of their conversation. Chadwick’s drawl carries the most, his words measured and calculated.
“Look, I’ve read the reports. Harriet’s burning through cash,” he says. “I think it’s time to position our chatbot as a safer bet.”
Chet’s nasally voice chimes in. “But what if E.M.M.A. actually delivers? The preliminary results looked promising.”
“That’s just it,” Chadwick replies. “It’s all potential right now. I know our key accounts. They’re worried about data privacy, integration costs, and ROI. We can leverage that to our advantage, no problemo.”
