Page 10 of Breakaway Hearts

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow.

Chapter Four

Owen

I’d like to earn it

“Nice hustle, Brooks!” I hear among the adjustments and encouragement Coach Benson has been yelling throughout this morning’s practice. My lungs are on fire, but I never feel as free or in control as I do on the ice. It took ten minutes between takes on my dad’s film set when I was four to know this is what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. At Wynchester, I discovered you can go hard enough to quiet every other voice in your head. Except Coach.

“That’s a lot of pent-up frustration,” Colt says when we switch to puck handling exercises. “What happened with the hottie?”

I’m about to tell them, through gritted teeth, because Madison’s stubbornness and stupid rule put a stop to the best kiss I’ve had in months, but Colt exchanges a glance with Donovan.

The assholes are both smiling.

“You knew,” I reproach.

“Knew what?” Mike asks, skating circles around us.

“Madison was the girl Colt struck out with?” I ask Donovan, who shrugs.

“In your defense, you lasted way longer than he did. I don’t think he even managed to say hi before she completely wrote him off,” he assures me.

“Guess you just don’t look like a hockey player. Maybe if you work harder in the gym…” Colt teases.

“Or maybe I don’t need to use my position to get a girl to want me, so it’s not the first thing I blurt out.”

“That would burn better if she didn’t shut your ass down too,” Colt points out.

“After she got to know you better,” Donovan adds unhelpfully.

“If Vale hadn’t come to warn me about his brother,” I start, because I hate the cocky look he’s giving me, but it’s really none of their business what happened. Before last night, I hadn’t been turned down since I joined the Wolves. Not since Cami decided long distance would suck, and she’d rather not leave the west coast.

“Sure, bro, keep telling yourself that.”

I do. And last night, I cursed Vale for ratting me out and driving Madison away. This morning, though, I understood it was better she found out before we did anything she’d regret.

“You could always quit hockey,” Colt suggests.

“What will you do when playing on the losing team doesn’t get you laid?”

“That’s cold bro.” Colt puts a hand on his heart like I’ve wounded him, but we both know that while we may score a lot of goals, this team wins games because everyone is damn good at doing their job…for the most part. “Maybe she made up that rule because she couldn’t deal with your big ego?”

“She talked to you first,” Donovan reminds him.

After practice, Coach follows us into the locker room with his clipboard.

“Now that Callahan graduated, this team needs a new captain.”

Everyone hollers and whoops, some shouting names of guys we would never want as captain, but I have my eye on Mike, who had the A last year, and is the best at wrangling the parties we have at the house.

“I consulted the team and constantly got the same answer, which doesn’t surprise me, given his hard work and dedication last year. I can’t think of anyone better than Owen Brooks.”

There are cheers and applause from most of the guys, but Daniel Redding looks salty. Which doesn’t bother me, until he says, “By dedication, you mean his dad’s money brought half the team to a playoff game.”

“Redding,” Coach reproaches him, then narrows his eyes on me, but I’m not sure if it’s to make sure I don’t retaliate, or because he expects me to do something to stop that kind of behavior now I’m captain.

“If the shoe fits.” Danny shrugs and hits the showers.