Page 14 of For Crosby

The coach stepped away from him and gathered some things from the bench. Mr. Hockey’s eyes found mine once again, and he skated toward me.

I swallowed down my surprise as I stood, pretending not to notice him skating my way.

His body was big, but he moved with such grace and agility, as if skating was as normal as walking for him. He pushed open the door of the rink wall. “You stalking me now?”

I crossed my arms and cocked my head, wishing the idiot would’ve forgotten we’d ever met. “I’m not here for you.”

Even with his helmet on I could see his arched brow. “Oh no?”

I stood tight-lipped. I didn’t owe him anything.

“Don’t tell me you’re dating one of these guys.”

“Maybe I am.”

His face sobered and, strangely, anger brimmed in his eyes. “Who?”

“None of your business.”

His head jolted back. “You don’t think I can find out?”

“I don’t care if you do. I’m just not telling you.”

“What, are you in first grade?”

I glared into his eyes, hoping he could see the hatred I felt toward him.

“Well, enjoy yourself with the mystery prick.”

“Who said he’s a prick?”

“They all are.” He turned and skated back down the ice, nabbing a puck from the side with his stick. He skated around the perimeter of the rink, moving the puck around before firing it at the net.

I checked my phone. It was already seven thirty. I wondered where Jeremy and I would go. I knew nothing about him, so I had no idea what he had planned. Dinner. A movie.

“So, let me guess, you’re banging Potter.”

I glanced up. Mr. Hockey stood in front of me again, his dark hair falling into his eyes now that he’d removed his helmet and held it in his hand. “I’m not banging anyone.”

“But that’s who you’re going out with, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

His eyes narrowed. “When did he ask you out?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It just does.”

“Yesterday. Happy?”

“You always make yourself available that easily?”

My teeth ground together. “I don’t like your implication.”

He shrugged. “The guy’s a prick.”

“Takes one to know one.”

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