Page 38 of Worth the Shot

Delaney

Stop flirting with me.

Me

Now that is something I can’t promise.

Delaney

You’re impossible.

I grin into my coffee, the warmth spreading all the way to my chest. Maybe being just friends isn’t so bad. Maybe it’s the only way I don’t lose her before I ever really have her.

By the time I get to the rink, I’ve replayed that text thread at least five times. I tell myself I was just bored sitting in traffic, but I know better.

The locker room is already alive with the usual chaos. The music is thumping, the smell of coffee and sweat mixing in a way only a hockey player could find comforting and Miles is halfway through taping his stick while he chirps at Wes, who’s pretending not to hear him. Shayne’s got his earbuds in, scrolling on his phone with that post-win smugness he wears so well. I grab my gear from the shelf above my locker and start lacing my skates.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Shayne says without looking up.

“Yeah, what’s up with you?” Miles adds. “You’ve been smiling since you walked in. Did someone finally tell you you’re their favorite player?”

I shrug, fighting back the grin threatening to give me away. “Maybe I just like winning.”

“Liar,” Miles says, pointing the roll of tape at me. “That’s not a ‘we won last night’ smile. That’s a ‘some girl texted me good morning’ smile.”

I can’t help it as the smirk slips out, and of course, that’s all it takes.

“Knew it!” Miles crows, turning to Shayne. “You hear that, Benny? Our boy’s out here catching feelings.”

Shayne finally looks up, eyes narrowing just slightly in a protective way, like he already knows who they’re talking about.

“Delaney?” he asks. Straight to the point.

“Relax,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We’re friends.”

Miles snorts. “Uh-huh. And I’m Gretzky.”

Shayne doesn’t say anything, just studies me for a second before smirking. “You know, Hale, for a guy trying to play it cool, you’re doing a terrible job.”

“Thanks for the feedback, Coach,” I fire back, grabbing my gloves and standing up. “Now can we focus on the part where I’m the one actually scoring goals around here?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Miles says, laughing. “Keep talking, Lover Boy.”

“Friends!” I yell as I head toward the tunnel.

Their laughter echoes behind me, mixing with the sound of sticks clattering and pucks hitting the boards. And even though they’re not wrong, I still tell myself the same lie I’ve been clinging to for weeks. Just friends. For now.

Chapter Fifteen

Delaney

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I say, watching Brennan seal my fate as he laces up the metal death traps on my feet. He grabs the coffee I brought him—decaf, a little cream with two sugars—and downs the rest of it before standing back up.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he says, helping me up. “You said you wanted to learn to skate so I’m gonna teach you.” I did say that, but to be fair, it looks a whole lot easier than it is.

My ankle rolls, just slightly, but enough for me to shriek like I’ve just been stabbed. I stumble into him, dramatically, and he catches me, wrapping his arms around me as he laughs.

“Woah, take it easy, we haven’t even gotten to the ice yet,” he says, still holding me.