Tucker rolled his eyes so hard Gale was surprised they didn’t get stuck. “I’m three years older than you.”
“Whatever you say, Gramps,” Gale quipped.
Their banter was cut short by Eddie Lawson, the team’s veterandefenseman and unofficial dad, as he glided past. “Well, well, well. Look who’s back in the lineup.”
Gale felt his ears heat up faster than a microwave burrito, but he knew Eddie’s teasing came from a place of love. Or at least affection. “Missed me that much, huh?”
“Like a puck to the teeth,” Eddie shot back, but his mouth twitched upward. “Good to have you dressed for the game tonight.”
As practice continued, Gale found himself falling into an easy rhythm with his teammates. It was like riding a bike, if the bike was made of ice and you had knives strapped to your feet. Nico Petrov, the team’s young Russian defenseman, seemed particularly stoked.
“We score many goals tonight, yes?” Nico said, wrapping him in a bear hug that threatened to crack a rib or two.
Gale’s confidence could power a small city. “We’re gonna light the place up like the Fourth of July.”
Throughout the drills, Gale couldn’t help but notice the ease with which he was moving. His passes were crisp, his shots on target. It was as if someone had hit the reset button on his hockey skills, and he was playing in high-definition.
As the boys wrapped up their pregame skate, Knight found himself in the middle of a chirp-fest. MacKenzie skated by. “Hey, Knighter, remember which net’s ours? Bet the press box view’s got you all turned around, eh?”
“Yo, Knight, bet you can’t wait to feel the burn in those leg muscles again. Popcorn and hot dogs don’t count as conditioning!” Eriksson, never one to miss out, added with a grin.
Even Duchy, usually all business before the puck drop, couldn’t resist. “And for fuck’s sake, don’t forget how to back-check!”
The boys laughed, showering him with friendly stick taps as they filed off the ice, the energy palpable as they geared up for the game ahead.
“Thanks, guys.”
As Gale made his way to the locker room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. It wasn’t just about being back on the ice; there was a newfound clarity to his game, a sense of purpose that had been missing before. Like he’d been playing in fog and someone had finally turned on the floodlights.
His thoughts drifted to Harriet, and a smile tugged at his lips like a playful puppy with a new chew toy. Ever since they had started spending time together, everything in his life seemed to have taken on a brighter hue. It was like someone had cranked up the saturation on his life.
He couldn’t deny the timing. Just as his relationship with Harriet blossomed, his performance had taken a dramatic upswing. It was almost comical, really. Here he was, contemplating the possibility that Harriet might be his lucky charm, when her own creation, E.M.M.A., had suggested he should date other people to improve his performance. The irony was thicker than peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.
As Gale changed into his game jersey, his mind wandered back to when Harriet had told him about E.M.M.A.’s suggestion of Seraphim. At the time, he had been too caught up in his own confusion to really process it. But now, with the benefit of hindsight and this newfound clarity, he couldn’t help but question the AI’s advice. Then of course came Jasmine.
But he hesitated to bring the errors up with Harriet. E.M.M.A. was her work; how many countless hours she had poured into its development? The last thing he wanted was to make her doubt her creation or feel like she had to defend it. That would be like telling a mother her baby was ugly.
No, he’d keep these thoughts to himself. What mattered was how she saw past all his bullshit—and saw him. How she somehow knew exactly when to push and when to let him breathe. Andhe saw her too, beneath that razor-sharp confidence she wore like armor. Saw how her hands trembled the first time she ordered him to do something, saw the way her whole body lit up when he obeyed. If being with Harriet made him a better hockey player, whatever. The real win was in those raw moments when they both stopped trying so damn hard to be what everyone else needed.
Gale’s phone buzzed with a text from Harriet.
Good luck against San Jose. I’ve got a critical system update running tonight that I need to monitor. Break a leg (but not really). I’ll be streaming the game while I work. xoxoxo
Gale’s heart swelled like a helium balloon. Whether she was a good luck charm or not, having Harriet in his corner made him feel invincible. Like he could take on the entire NHL with one hand tied behind his back.
As he headed out to face the game, Gale couldn’t help but grin. Lucky charm or not, he was ready to show the world—and more important, himself—exactly what he was capable of after his stint in the press box. The chirps from warm-up still echoed in his head, and they only fueled his determination.
Gale took a deep breath, feeling the familiar weight of his stick in his hands. He thought briefly of Harriet, and if her presence in his heart, in his bed, in his life, gave him an extra boost of confidence? Well, that was just between him and the ice.
Time now to remind everyone why he belonged in the show.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s been nearly a week since Gale rejoined the starting lineup. The Regals just touched down after a grueling game in Anaheim. As I work on a late-night diagnostic in my lab, my phone suddenly vibrates. I smile when I see his name.
“Hi there! Great game and—”
“Harriet.” The way he says my name... his voice is a mix of exhaustion and something else. “I know it’s late, but can you meet me?”
