Page 181 of The Dixon Rule

The game is fast-paced from the first puck drop. I’m still riding the high from the competition, and it only seems fitting that I score the winning goal. This is Shane’s night. This is Shane’s fuckin’ house.

“Yes,” Ryder growls, smacking my helmet as I heave myself over the wall. His line is done for the night, so he’s on the bench enjoying the action without any of the pressure.

There are only forty seconds left in the third. Sure, Boston College can score two goals in that time—miracles do happen. But it’s unlikely. Coach knows it and orders our third line to treat the rest of the game like a penalty kill, while the rest of us sit on the bench hollering for them to hold the line.

When the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the third, everyone on the Briar bench surges to their feet, savoring the taste of victory. We were on fire tonight. Invincible. The atmosphere in the locker room afterward is sheer triumph.

“Gigi and Mya are outside with Diana,” Ryder tells me, shouldering his hockey bag. “Mya came up for Gigi’s game against Providence. We’re all heading back to Hastings and meeting up at Malone’s.”

Perfect. I didn’t even know my girl was here, but a quick glance at my phone confirms that Diana took an Uber here after the winners’ announcement. She says she’s waiting in the lobby.

When I step into the hallway, however, it’s not Diana I find waiting for me.

It’s Lynsey.

“Hey.” I’m startled to see her, especially standing there in jeans and a black sweater rather than the dance costume she was wearing at the hotel. “Why aren’t you at the NUABC after-party?”

“Decided to skip it.”

“But aren’t they announcing the winners of the American Nine?”

“Sergei will text me if we placed.”

She shrugs, which is very atypical for Lynsey. She’s usually very direct. And in all the years I’ve known her, she’s never blown off an important event. Or at least, an event that’s important to her.

I’m utterly baffled.

“Where’s Tyreek?” I ask. “Was he in the crowd rooting for you?”

“No. Actually, we broke up.”

“You did?”

She nods. “Last month.”

“Oh.” That’s odd. She and I have bumped into each other a couple of times on campus since then, and she hasn’t said a word about it.

“And I didn’t go to the after-party because I wanted to watch your game instead. I caught the last period.”

I hide my shock. “You came to watch me play?” And then I can’t help myself. “Never really showed much interest before…”

“I know. That was crappy of me.” She looks uncomfortable. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

I hesitate.

“There’s a little pub not far from here. Let’s grab a quick drink.” She falters. “Oh. Unless you have to be on the team bus.”

“Not tonight. I drove myself because of the competition.”

“Okay. Great.” Her relief is unmistakable. “Then you can have a drink.”

“I’ve got plans. I’m meeting everyone back in Hastings to celebrate our win.”

“I won’t take too much of your time, Lindy. You can still meet everyone there. You’ll just be, what? Fifteen minutes late? Twenty?”

Her gaze is so earnest, and for a moment, she appears uncertain. I’m suddenly reminded of our first kiss. For all her bravado—even as a teenager, she acted like she was so sure of herself—when I went to kiss her that first time, cupping her cheek with my hand, she’d worn this same look. Uncertainty and hope. Eagerness mixed with fear.

“I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflecting since Ty and I broke up, and I need to get a few things off my chest. Please.” When I hesitate again, she releases a frustrated breath. “I don’t want to play the history card, but come on, Shane. I’ve known you since the eighth grade. You can spare twenty minutes for me.”

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