Artemis leans over me, hand outstretched. “The fuck was that, Cap?”
I wave off his hand and roll onto my knees, sucking hard and deep at the thin, cool air in the rink, trying to convince my struggling lungs that I’m not actually dead, it just kinda feels like it.
Did a semi-truck burst through the walls of the Trashcan and take me out of the drill? I rub at my chest. My hands are bare. I must have dropped my gloves and stick in the fall.
“I’m good.”
Standing on shaky legs, I avoid making eye contact with any of the guys gathered around me, and you better believe I’m not looking in the direction of Coach’s undoubtedly fire-fueled glare right now either. Embarrassment claws at my throat as I force out a laugh.
“Which of you assholes crashed into me?”
My head bounced around inside my bucket, but I’m fine. If I told them I was distracted by a girl they’d never let me live it down. Hell,I’mnever letting me live it down. One errant thought about Savannah, and I ended up on my ass staring at the rafters. Talk about a sign.
Artemis jerks his chin. “You should know better than to keep your head down, Cap. That shit’s for the rookies.”
“Sure you’re okay?” Tate narrows his eyes like he’s not convinced.
“Just rattled my chiclets.” I wiggle my jaw back and forth as if to emphasize the fact.
He nods and steps out of my way. The whistle blows and we all freeze in place like we forgot Coach was there too. “Hit the showers. And Ashe?”
“Yeah, Coach?”
“Try to stay upright at the game tonight.”
“Yes, Coach.” My heart rate and breathing return to normal as I hit the locker room, determined to put Savannah Bowen completely out of my head before I take to the ice tonight.
* * *
She’s here.
Savannah Bowen is in the stands watching me play hockey. And by play hockey I mean get my ass handed to me by everyone on the ice—including my own fucking team.
I tried. All afternoon I fucking tried to clear some space in my mind. Meditating, affirmations, yoga, even an ice bath to soothe my still aching muscles from getting crashed into by our resident moving wall de la Peña.
It was starting to work, too, and no sooner had that thought crossed my mind when I spotted the flowing honey-blonde locks of one Miss “He’s nothing but a cheating asshole” Bowen. I know where I went wrong—I tempted fate.
But are you fucking kidding me? Is Mercury in retrograde? That little fucker ruins damn near everything.
There are thirty seconds left in the first period, and we’re down by two goals. I’d love to say neither of them were my fault, but I was on the ice for both, and from the scowl Coach is shooting my way, that fact didn’t escape him, either. And the fuck-off-and-die vibes Ares de la Peña is throwing me from the crease suggests I’m not his favorite person right now either.
Peachy.
Just fucking wonderful.
This girl has been back in my orbit for less than thirty-six hours, and she’s already fucking up my goddamn life just by existing. What else did she tell Athena? Did the de la Peña sister tell her brothers?
My gaze skims along my teammates sitting next to me on the bench. Do they all think I’m the untrustworthy asshole Savannah says I am? Do they still have my back out on the ice?
Rationally, I know it’s an overreaction.
Or is it, though?
I mean, I thought my dad wouldn’t take Steve Dobbs’ side, and look where that got me.
It’s different now though, right? These guys, my friends, my teammates, they know the real me. We’ve won together and lost together. The ride-or-die energy from my brothers is one of the reasons UCR hockey is so damn popular and renowned across not just the state of Iowa, but the whole country. We’re more than a team. We’re a family.
As I trudge to the locker room at the end of the period, a not-so-tiny voice at the back of my head reminds me that Dad is family too, and he still took someone else’s side over mine. He didn’t believe me when tears spilled down my face, when I swore until I was hoarse that I didn’t—wouldnever—cheat on a test.
