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Fuck, they were growing on me.
"Times up!" Elias said, bursting in. He looked disappointed for a second to see me dressed then a brilliant smile spread across his face. "You look amazing. Pose!"
Elias pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, then motioned for me to spin so I did, pointing my thumbs at the name on the back and cocking a hip to the side.
"Fucking gorgeous, let me just post this," he said happily, tapping away.
"Wait, let me see!" I demanded, rushing over and trying to snatch his phone but Elias easily had a foot and a half on me in height so holding up his phone meant I had zero chance of reaching it.
"Give me a kiss and I might."
For a flash I thought about it then pressed a kiss to his lips, having to stand on my tiptoes to accomplish it. I moved back before I could deepen it.
"Now give it."
"Nope, you can find me on Insta," he said as he tucked his phone in his front pocket, practically daring me to fish it out.
"Let's go!" Tate yelled, forcing me to let it go for now.
Grabbing my bag and phone, I followed them out.
The drive to the rink was tense. Dad had messaged that the contractors had already fixed up the rink and restored power. The cops hadn't found anything even with our cameras. Someone had scouted well, avoiding cams and covering their faces. Even the flash of a car we got was pointless, they'd covered the thing in mud, streaks of it lining the lot from them peeling out.
His truck was out front when we pulled in and he was standing near it, talking to someone. He looked up when we pulled into Brock's usual spot. Tate opened my door for me and helped me down, his hand resting on my lower back as we approached. Dad's lips thinned into a line at the sight of us before a snort of laughter bubbled up.
"You look like you did when you were a kid," he mused when we were within earshot. I did a spin and laughed. "Different jersey, though."
"Elias won a bet apparently, so it's his number." I shrugged like it was no big deal and not meeting his eyes.
"This time, the war has started," Tate muttered.
"I'll see you later, Slade," the man said, giving us an annoyed look. It was Dad's turn to look guilty and my stomach churned.
The guys read the mood and left us alone after quick goodbyes.
"It was the guy offering to buy the rink, wasn't it?"
He let his head fall back, giving his sigh to the sky like that could save him from this dreaded conversation.
"Maybe it's time, Mace," he said. It was a nickname I hadn't heard in years.
"Doyouwant that?"
He shook his head, finally meeting my gaze.
"No, but the town is giving up on us. We're a joke compared to all of these huge hockey arenas around here. Our competition is only a few cities away and has one twice this size. Brand new. Immaculate. How do I compete? I'd rather quit before it's taken from me," he admitted.
"Don't sign it, Dad. Not yet. Give me a year," I pleaded. "One year to turn things around. I'll work full time here, help you run the business side and hype up our team. I've got events, fundraisers, all kinds of stuff in mind."
He narrowed his eyes.
"How long ago did you figure this out?"
"The first day you had me in the office," I answered. "I've been making plans ever since."
"And what's this about?" He waved a hand at my jersey so I knew exactly what he was referring to. "I thought you weren't interested.”
"I wasn't," I said. "They make me feel safe and happy. Right now, it's just friends."
