Page 89 of On the Power Play

He let out a slow exhale. "At the game, you asked about the difference between the teams."

Right. The conversation they never got to finish. But why was he bringing it up now? Delia ignored the fact that water from the melting ice was soaking through her jeans. "You said there was a difference in you."

Something behind Jack's eyes flickered, and she raised an eyebrow as if to say, Yes, I was listening. He drew a breath. "I don't know if I'm going to be signed on for another season. I doubt I will, honestly. I've been playing well, but there's talk about other free agents management is interested in, and it doesn't make sense that they'd use their budget on me when they could get some young buck with fresh legs."

Jack's legs looked plenty fresh to her. "But?"

He looked out over the pond. "It doesn’t feel right. I have to go all in. If I don't, I'm always going to wonder if . . . I don't know. If it would've made a difference." He blew out a breath and turned to stare at the brown prairie grass. "It might not make a difference, though. Then I'll be out of a job."

He clenched his jaw, and Delia's heart tried to cram through her ribs and out of her chest. She knew that feeling. Even if she couldn’t rescue herself from it, she felt compelled to try and save him. "Hey, you could always just date me for longer and have a steady source of minimal income."

He turned to face her, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "I don't think Tony would be on board. He's banking on the messy break up."

Delia laughed. "So am I, honestly."

They sat there, smiles on their wind-chapped faces, neither of them speaking. Finally, Jack pressed up off the ice and reached for her hands. She slipped as she stood, but he held her steady.

Delia broke the silence first. "I think you were doing great before you stopped trusting yourself."

Jack chuckled. "That's not fair."

"What?" Delia steadied herself, still gripping onto him.

"To use my own words against me." Jack held tight to her left hand and skated backward a few strokes, then flipped to line up with her. Delia threw out her right hand for balance, resembling a land-locked starfish. "Relax." Jack's voice hummed next to her.

"Easy for you to say," she muttered. They skated around the pond twice, which was enough to at least partially redeem herself from her cartoon flailing earlier. If nothing else, she'd proven she wasn't a quitter.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, and by the time they sat on the log bench, the pond was bathed in gold. Muscles that Delia didn’t realize she had ached in her thighs and calves. “Are these my hip flexers?” She pressed a gloved thumb into the crease between her upper thigh and hip bone.

Jack chuckled. “Yep. Sore?”

“I need a hot yoga class.”

He pulled off his skate. “Do you have to apply for that?”

Delia yanked at her laces. “What are you talking about? Like, sign up?”

“No, prove your attractiveness.”

Delia blinked, then laughed out loud as realization dawned. “No, ‘hot’ as in high temperature. It’s a sweat session. It loosens up your muscles.” Jack grinned, and that’s when she realized he was joking. “Ha. Ha.”

Delia pulled off her skates and shoved her feet into her now freezing boots. “Where should I put these?” Country had lent them to her. He had at least ten pairs of hockey and figure skates hanging in his garage and unfortunately, one of them had fit her perfectly.

Jack motioned for her to set them on the bench next to him. She pulled out her phone and checked her missed messages while he put his shoes on. Nothing too imperative. Mary letting her know she’d scheduled their next studio session with Ethan, which made her heart leap.

She flipped over to her socials, and browsed her notifications. She always had plenty of tags and mentions, and she liked going in and commenting when she could.

Delia tapped on the first one as Jack tied the skate laces together and looped them over his shoulder. “We can leave these on the . . .” He kept talking, but Delia wasn’t listening. She stared at the post from Ellie May in front of her. From the first ironic quotation marks, she knew she shouldn’t keep reading, but her masochistic curiosity won out.

???? In the latest news, pop 'sensation' Delia seems to be making waves again, though not through her music—unless we're talking about the kind that's perfect for putting you to sleep. It's baffling how her tracks, as forgettable as last season's fashion, keep popping up. Is it music or just background noise for more interesting conversations?

Enter Jack Harrison, a man who knows a thing or two about real talent and hard work. Unlike Delia's tunes, which vanish from your memory faster than her lyrics from a teleprompter, Jack's achievements stay with you, the mark of true dedication and skill. It's a shame to see such a star dimmed by association with music that's as bland as diet water.

And that supposed kiss? My dog uses more tongue. I, for one, am not convinced Jack feels anything more for Delia than he does for his sister.

While Jack scores goals, Delia seems content scoring tabloid headlines. Perhaps it's time for her to take a page out of Jack's playbook and actually put some effort into her craft. Until then, she remains the weak link in this pairing, her forgettable songs a mere footnote in the shadow of Jack's masterclass of raw skill and perseverance.

To Delia, a word of advice: next time you hit the studio, aim for something that won't be lost to the annals of one-hit-wonders and 'Who's that again?' trivia questions. And to Jack—your fans hope you find someone who matches your commitment, both on and off the ice. ???? #JackDeservesBetter #PopMusicPurgatory #RememberTheMusic

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