Page 45 of Rule Breaker

“Nope.”

“Is there a tag on it?” Dane asked.

“Yeah, just my name.”

Picking up the bag, I wondered why it felt like a sack of peas but lighter. I slowly untied it and looked inside. When I realized what it was, I couldn’t contain my laughter.

“What?” Dane asked me as teammates crowded around me to look. “What is it? What’s so funny?”

“This is awesome,” I snickered as I pulled out a massive bag of beads. “It’s a kit to make bracelets. Did you do this?”

Dane looked as surprised as I did. Either he had a great poker face or he was in the dark like me. “Nope. Jace?”

“Not me,” Jace replied.

“Ethan?” I asked.

“I got better things to do than buy you beads, Kay.”

“Well, someone from our team bought this,” I added. “I mentioned making the bracelets when we were having dinner in Rochester. Fess up, now, come on! Who did this?”

No one volunteered an answer.

“Okay then. Play it that way, that’s cool,” I quipped and looked around. “Thank you to whoever bought this! Bracelets for everyone next practice!”

“Are you taking orders?” Finn asked.

“Fuck yes,” I exclaimed. “Whatever message you want, colors, let me know.”

“Team colors only,” Finn insisted.

“Can I get six?” Jace asked. Typical superstitious hockey player, he wanted the number of bracelets to match his jersey. “Or twelve. Six for each arm. I like to stack ‘em.”

“Sure, I?—”

“Enough already,” Axel interrupted and got up in Jace’s face. “In case you forgot, princess, we’ve got a game to play.”

“In case you forgot, your hockey stick should remain in your hands, not up your ass,” Jace bit back, offering Axel two fingers in response.

Then Jace turned to me and smiled. “Six and six.”

“You got it,” I chuckled.

I was so fucking stoked. Maybe a few of the guys thought it was ridiculous, but I loved the idea of making bracelets for the team. It was fun. Something that everyone needed. A bit of lightness to ease the pressure we were under.

Glancing across the room, I noticed that Maddox was almost done suiting up. But it seemed like he hadn’t even noticed the conversation going on around him. Since no one needed fun more than our grumpy-ass goalie, he’d be the first person to get a bracelet.

I placed the bag on the shelf in my stall, which was smelling ripe AF, and pulled out my equipment. The ritual of getting geared up was always comforting to me, priming me for the game. I put things on in the same order and when I was done, plunked down on the bench to put on my skates.

Jace ambled over and sat down beside me.

“So,” he whispered as he nudged me. “Who do you think bought you the kit?”

“It’s gotta be Dane,” I insisted. “Remember last season and the T-shirt he gave me for my birthday? The one he made me wear to that freshmen party?”

“Oh yeah. The one that said ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish. No wait, I’m a hockey player. Even better.’?”

“Exactly. He loves funny shit like that. It’s gotta be him.”

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