Page 91 of Flashback for the Forward

“All right, let me see if Arizona minds if we come along.”

Crew visibly vibrated with excitement.

“Road trip!”

Our decision made, Crew walked to his house to pack while I did the same at Cole’s. By the time he returned, he’d taken care of the hotel arrangements and was ready to hit the road.

Eyeing my duffel bag, he asked, “Did you remember to pack a sweatshirt? Because it gets nipply at night in the desert.”

“Nippy,” I corrected.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

No, it certainly was not, but I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into a conversation about cold weather and what it does to nipples with my boyfriend’s twin brother.

“But to answer your question, yes, I have a sweatshirt in my bag.” We were going to be spending an awful lot of time inside of ice rinks this weekend, so that would be a no-brainer, regardless of our destination.

Striding to the hall closet, I grabbed the oversized black hoodie I’d worn when I escaped Aiden’s house off a hanger, and pulled it on, positioning the hood over my head to create shadows on my face that would hopefully obscure it from the CCTV cameras—it had worked so far in my trips back and forth to spend time at Arizona’s place, so I had no reason to believe it would fail me now.

Crew took in my appearance and let out a whistle. “Oh, so we’re going out in incognito mode. Got it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get in the car.”

He gave me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

Five and a half hours in tight quarters with this man was going to test my patience. Of that, I had no doubt.

With the familiar sights and sounds of a hockey rink surrounding me, I sucked in a lungful of the icy air. All my favorite memories could be tied to one arena or another, while watching my brother, Cole, and Crew play. And damn, if it didn’t feel good to be back in what had once been my happy place.

We’d arrived in Phoenix just in time for Austin’s first game of the weekend, finding a seat in the stands as the team finished warm-ups.

When I noticed Arizona sitting alone, I asked, “Where’s Maisie?”

The woman who’d quickly become my closest friend smiled at the mention of her stepdaughter. She jerked her chin toward the top corner of the bleachers. “Hanging with the other hockey sisters. Most of them are younger, but she’ll happily spend the next eighty minutes making friendship bracelets and recording dance videos to post online.”

“Ah.” I returned my attention to the ice. “So what number is Austin?”

“Nine. Same as Levi,” Crew answered.

I scanned the jerseys until I found him, seated on the bench, as the teams lined up for the opening face-off. “Got it.”

The puck was dropped and, just like I remembered from over a decade ago, the parents got rowdy in the stands—screaming instructions to their kids, cheering a good pass or hit, and yelling at the refs when they made a call they disagreed with.

Austin hopped the boards for his first shift of the game, and I watched him with an eagle eye, analyzing his skating, puck-handling, and decision-making.

“He’s good,” I remarked. “Right around the middle of the pack, which leaves room for growth.”

Crew hummed his agreement. “Can you believe this is his first season?”

Rearing back in surprise, I saw the fifteen-year-old through a different lens. “Kid’s a natural.”

Arizona laughed. “You sound exactly like Levi.”

“Who better than a professional to spot talent?” I tossed back.

“Fair.”

“Levi made the right decision finding him a spot on a travel team,” Crew said. “He needed the challenge.”