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He grunts. “Well, we missed you kicking the kids’ asses at camp.”
“I do not kick their asses.” I roll my eyes. Ihelp. But I have a feeling it’s all about to go down the drain. A lump forms in my throat, and the humor falls away. Quietly, I admit, “Dad had that look that said all my dreams were going to disappear.”
The Olympics. Playing on the greatest US women’s team, winning gold. Being a champion. Sometimes I want it so bad, I dream about it. I can taste it.
And now…
Knox pulls his phone from his pocket, showing me a video from the summer intensive. Little kids wobbling around on skates, following the puck with single-mindedness. I feel his gaze on my face as I stare at the screen. I refuse to look at him and see something I don’t want to acknowledge.
“Did they have fun?”
“No one kicked their ass, so yeah.” He puts it away just as the door opens.
The nurse makes a noise in the back of her throat, caught between surprise and frustration. “Visiting hours areover, Aurora McGovern. Young man, you need to leave.”
“Right.” Knox stands, setting the yellow rose in the pitcher of water on the rolling stand next to my bed. Just drops it in like it belongs there. “Goodnight, Sunny.”
He strolls out without a backward glance.
The nurse shares a secret, quiet smile with me.
And I smile back.
I’ve always had a thing for the bad boy. How could I not? I was practically guaranteed to fall for the wrong guy—I’ve got a defective heart, after all. It’s only fair to assume it would lead me astray in love when it can’t even beat properly.
7
KNOX
Islam my hand on the redstopbutton, and the treadmill rapidly slows to a halt. I use the bottom of my shirt to dry my face, and when I drop it, Camden Church is standing next to my machine.
“What’s up?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I can’t check in on my new rookie?”
I shrug and hop off the treadmill. “I suppose you can. I thought I was the only one here.”
“I had a meeting with Coach. He mentioned you were down here.” He watches me for a moment. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You played like shit the other night.”
Ah. He trails me to the weights, and I stack plates on one of the bench press bars.
“Spot me?”
He moves into position, and I lie on the bench. I grip the cool metal, lifting the heavy bar off the rack. We’re silent for a few reps. He seems to be pretty chill like that. I only moved here once the season started, and I haven’t really got to know them as a team yet. Not the full-on bonding that the Guardians put me through after I signed on with them.
Which is fine.
“You went hard against Joel at practice yesterday,” he comments.
I grunt.
The way I want to tell him all my problems is actually irritating. I sometimes feel like I can just keep talking forever—but when it comes to Aurora and my predicament with her, I’m all clammed up.
His hands hover under the bar as soon as my movements slow, but I push through. I breathe out hard on the lift, then take it down for another rep. My muscles burn. I manage three more before Church steps in, guiding the bar back on the rack.
