Page 116 of Breakaway Hearts

He knocks on my door at 10:30, on the nose, and I half pretend I forgot and only go with him because he’s already there. It reinforces the fact that I will never have a career in film, but Owen doesn’t call me on it.

He asks about the clubbing as soon as we get into the car, so I tell him all about last night instead of asking where the hell we’re going. Savannah and Bree brought their friend, Lacey, and we ran into Michaela from the paper, so it was a bigger crowd than I was expecting. I didn’t tell them about my past, but they either sensed something, or I’ve never actually had thoughtful, considerate girlfriends who have my back.

We danced together, they acted like it was totally normal when I didn’t drink anything, and although this whole thing started as a way for me to meet a guy who isn’t Owen, the one time someone stood at my back and tried to dance with me, I visibly recoiled, so Savannah pulled me to her in a twirl and placed herself firmly between us.

Guess I wasn’t as chill as I thought.

“You don’t have a game,” I point out when Owen pulls up to an arena. Jason would be here, rather than God knows where while I have my finger braced above his speed dial, just in case.

“I do not,” Owen agrees. “And neither does she. Not today at least.”

“Is your friend on the women’s team?” I press when he opens my door for me.

“I think she will be when she gets to Wynchester, as long as she doesn’t give it up, but as your close acquaintance, I’d never make you suffer through more hockey than you have to.”

I never had a problem with hockey. It’s my favorite sport and I still want to love it. It’s the players I hate. Which I would tell Owen, only I see posters for a Figure Skating Championship.

“Seriously?” I ask him.

“I can’t tell if you’re jealous or offended, but⁠—”

“Over here!”

I recognize Savannah’s voice, but she’s already back to whoever she’s facetiming.

“Yep, Owen just got here with…Maddie?!? You didn’t tell me you were coming!” She beams.

“I didn’t know I was,” I admit, getting a hug.

“Izzie will be thrilled.”

I turn to Owen, confusion all over my face.

“Remember Noah?”

“Your last captain and Savannah’s boyfriend who is killing it in the NHL?” I repeat what he, Jason, and Savannah have told me.

“Isabelle is his sister. And ours by association. She’s super nervous about today, so we promised to come, and Noah is in…Colorado?” he verifies.

“Detroit,” Savannah corrects.

“Darren’s in Colorado,” Lacey tells him. “Nice to see you again.” I know from last night that she’s also a hugger, but thankfully, the two hockey guys she showed up with – Spring and a guy who looks just like him with darker hair and a normal haircut – just wave.

“We have to scream as loud as we can when she wins to embarrass her as Noah would if he was here,” Owen finishes his explanation.

“Because you hate her?” I ask.

“I love her,” he argues without hesitation, and something about the way he says it so easily hits me in the feels. “And she secretly loves it.”

“Finch!”

I wince at my name when more players arrive. I figured his roommates, who also lived with Noah, would come, but other than Jason and the rookies, the entire team seems to be here. Even their coach, with his wife and granddaughter I see at most games.

“Madison,” Owen corrects with a pointed look. There were assholes when I played, who insisted girls couldn’t get – or use – nicknames, but I don’t think that’s what this is. Tab is often called Baby Brooks, and Sav is either Banana or James.

I look at Owen with a furrowed brow.

“You don’t like being called Finch,” he says like he doesn’t understand my confusion, then his eyebrows lift, and his eyes go wide. “Unless I have it completely wrong and it’s… me and my teammates you don’t like,” he realizes.