Page 59 of One More Time

But he didn’t say a word. He didn’t promise that he would let me in. I pulled away, unable to leave without kissing his cheek. I left wondering if I would survive a heartbreak like losing Hunter Graves.

Chapter thirty-one

Tyler

We stood in our suits outside Merrimack’s ice rink, a light snow falling around us. It was the last away game before Christmas break, and five days since I’d proven to Coach that I could do this. It was a close-to-home game, so there was no hotel room to share with Hunter. He’d returned to being nothing but my teammate after our encounter in the showers.

It was fine, totally fine. Standard practice these days, it seemed. Hunter had managed to hide his bruises—mostly. I could only hope that he would eventually tell me what happened.

Kinsley called me a few days before the game, asking if I had much contact with Hunter. She didn’t say anything other than he seemed to be avoiding her. All I could say was, “Same.”

I even went to Jarman, who’d known Hunter since high school. He confirmed that Hunter was always one to keep to himself—loyal on the ice, always down for a good party, but insanely private. Even at parties, he seemed to only be there to hook up. He never stayed around to chat with the team. Armed with that knowledge, I told myself not to worry. It was a blatant lie, of course. I already missed the attention.

Hunter nudged my arm but didn’t look me in the eye. “How are you liking the snow?”

I scoffed. “P-pretty,” I forced out, not wanting to seem like a wimp, but my traitorous body made me a liar. My limbs shook and my teeth chattered.

Hunter laughed, wrapping his arm around me and giving me a squeeze. “Too bad this isn’t a hotel stay; I’d be able to keep you warm, Aussie.”

I felt my body react, and I nudged him off me. He winced, but my expression was enough to make him back off, as if he could sense the beast lying within that fought to be released.

He thumbed over his shoulder, “I’ll see you in there, Aus. Better hurry, or your teeth may fall out with all that chattering.” He turned and walked off so fast I would’ve had to jog to catch up.

Jarman appeared beside me, laughing. “Not this cold in Aus, huh?”

I snorted. "Not in Perth, no. Coldest day on average was about fourteen—and that’s Celsius, not Fahrenheit.”

Mouse sidled up to my other side, looking overly puzzled. “So, what’s that in normal numbers?”

“You guys do realize you’re the only country in the world who don’t use Celsius, right? It’s about fifty.”

Mouse’s eyes widened. “That’s the coldest? That’s a breezy summer night here.”

I nodded., “I quickly learned Perth hoodies wouldn’t cut it.”

They laughed and Jarman jostled my shoulder, “Some hockey player you are, scared of the cold.”

I frowned, “I’m not scared! Even on the ice it’s hard to stay cold. I’m just not used to it.” I nearly sighed with relief when the central heat washed over my face as we entered the rink and headed to the locker rooms. This was game one of two—we’d face off against them again at home before breaking for the holidays.

“Let’s hope bad blood doesn’t get Hunter into trouble,” Mouse muttered across to Jarman, who only grunted in response as his face twisted up.

“Uhm… what’s that supposed to mean?” I question.

Jarman stayed quiet while Mouse was happy to fill me in on the gossip. “Well, their star defenseman, Zane Matthews, used to play on our team. The two were inseparable. Then we were in the locker room before the grand finals—looked like they were having a pretty heated talk. Next thing we knew, Hunter broke the guy’s nose and made him miss the game. Matthews had an agent and a scout there; he was hoping to go the AHL route. Colton and Matthews cornered Hunter after the game and lost their shit. Hunter was benched and Matthews was scratched—we lost that game.”

I cringed, a part of me trying to match the guy they were describing to the one who monopolized so much of my mind.

“It was way out of character for Hunter,” Jarman added, seeming to know where my mind went. “I think it may have had something to do with Kinsley.” Then without another word, he squeezed my shoulder and went to his designated stall.

Colton commanded everyone’s attention, and the team gathered around to listen. “All right, boys! We need to go out there strong, make them scared for the game tomorrow. But also, keep it clean; we need you all in top shape for our home-ground game.”

A cacophony of noises broke out around the room before we headed toward the ice. I followed close behind Hunt, noting the way he carried himself differently, minding the injuries to his ribs and shoulder. I gritted my teeth tighter.

“Riley!” The sudden sound made me flinch. I spun to see Coach calling me. He stood beside a man in a suit with a blinding smile.

“Yes, Coach?”

Coach angled himself to face both of us. “Tyler Riley, this is Connor Bellamy.”

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