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Silly little doodles.
My dad’s words for a passion that I loved with my whole heart when I was young. My first talent, my first love, before hockey.
And one that, because of his disapproval, I’ve kept hidden from everyone since. Even from my best friends, my teammates, guys who have been like brothers to me for the last three years.
Guys who I hope will stay like brothers to me for the rest of our lives, no matter where we go after leaving Ridley.
Standing up, I do something that I know I should have done a long time ago. Something I had no reason not to do, except for the fact that I’d gotten so used to hiding this side of myself.
I open my closet and grab one of my sketchbooks. The one I showed Zoey when she stayed overnight in my room, the one that includes the sketch I made of our whole team together.
With the sketchbook in hand, I walk downstairs. All the guys are in the living room, playing video games and hanging out. Even Ryder and Grant are here.
“Hey, guys,” I call out. “I want to show you something.”
29
ZOEY
“Zoey! Zoey!”
A smile rises to my lips as I hear Liam’s voice from behind me while walking down the hallways at the arena after a meeting with Megan.
It’s like a Pavlovian response. Every time I hear Liam’s voice, I can’t help but smile. I can’t help but feel a rosy warmth in my cheeks, I can’t help the spark that lights in my chest, I can’t help that it feels like I’m suddenly walking on a cloud rather than the polished linoleum of the hockey arena.
Just hearing his voice does all that to me, and more.
I turn around and see him jogging up to me. He’s got the biggest smile on his face, and excitement is lively in his bright, green eyes. His thick, curly tuft of sandy blonde hair bobs up and down with his motion as he hurries to me.
“Hello, Mr. Newcastle,” I say with a wry grin, pretending to be formal to keep up appearances, even though there’s no one else here.
He chuckles, and the warm, low sound shatters even my fake defenses.
I know that we should try as hard as we can to not be alone together when we’re somewhere public, that we should try as hard as we can not to appear any closer than two people working on very different sides of a sports team would naturally be.
But looking at his happy, excited face and feeling the positive energy that radiates from him, I can’t even pretend. He’s clearly eager to share something with me, and I’m dying to find out what.
“I did it,” he says, his flashy white teeth beaming from his smile.
“Did it?” I ask. I’m not sure what he’s referring to, but the smile on his face is more than enough to elicit one from me.
“I talked to my dad. I said to him what needed to be said. I stood up for myself, set boundaries and let him know that his so-called advice wouldn’t be tolerated anymore.”
Even though I shouldn’t, I can’t help myself—I jump into him, flinging my arms around his thick neck and wrapping him up in a tight hug. I’m so proud of him I could burst.
“That’s incredible, Liam!” I do a sort of whisper-shout, knowing I need to keep my voice down, but still not able to contain my excitement.
When he sets me down, he’s still beaming, like he has more to tell me.
“That’s not all,” he says. “I showed the guys.”
“Showed them?” I ask, tilting my head questioningly.
He nods. “My drawings.”
My brow rises and my jaw drops. I lean forward. “Really?”
His smile curls even higher. “Yep. Showed them the sketch I made of the whole team together. Remember, the one I showed you that one night? They loved it.”
