A group of kids are playing a pickup game on the far end of the rink. One of them, a girl with pigtails and a jersey that's way too big for her, is absolutelydominatingthe puck, weaving through the other kids like they're standing still.
She takes a shot, and itdingsoff the crossbar.
"OHHH!" The crowd groans in sympathy.
The girl just shrugs, picks up the puck, and sets it back down for another go.
She's got that fire. That competitive edge.
I wonder where she got it.
Probably from a father who taught her that she could be anything she wanted, even if it meant being better than the boys.
Lucky girl.
Brooke laughs as she follows my gaze. "Yeah, the Morrison brothers have that effect on people."
"You've known them long?" I ask, keeping my voice casual.
"Long enough." Brooke bites her lip in thought, her eyes distant. "I actually used to date Declan. Briefly."
I choke on the cool breeze passing through the café.
"What?"
Brooke's clearly amused by my reaction. "Yeah. It was a while ago. Before the team really got going. He was... intense."
"Intense how?" I ask, trying to sound merely curious rather than desperately hungry for small town gossip.
"He's not the kind of guy who does casual well. Even when he tries to be. He's all in, one hundred percent, or he's not in at all." She pauses, contemplating. "We had fun. A lot of fun. But we both knew it wasn't going anywhere. He's got too much on his shoulders to let anyone close enough to see the cracks."
I think about the way Declan looked at me in that conference room. The hurt in his eyes when I said our night together meant nothing.
Is that what I am? Another crack in his armor?
"We ended things amicably," Brooke continues, oblivious to my internal spiral. "He's a good guy, Josie. Complicated. But good."
Brooke tilts her head, studying me with a lazy curiosity.
"So." She drags the word out. "You gonna tell me what happened in that media session this morning? Because I heard from Rose that you and Declan came out of that room looking like you'd just had a very intense conversation."
I freeze.
Shit.
"Nothing happened," I say, too fast. "We just… cleared the air. That's all."
Brooke's eyebrows climb toward her sun-bleached hairline. "Mm-hmm."
I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.
Because how do I explain it?
How do I explain that I spent one night with this man, and it was the most alive I've felt in years? That I've been trying to convince myself it meant nothing, but every time I see him, my body remembers exactly what it felt like to be wrapped around him?
"Look," Brooke says, her voice softening. "I don't know what happened between you two. And honestly? It's none of my business. But I've known Declan for a while now. He's not the kind of guy who does things without a reason."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
