Page 62 of Perfect Score

“I’ll take you back,” I tell Zoey, skating her back to the opening in the rink.

“That was really fun. Thank you for teaching me to skate. I can’t imagine I could possibly have had a better teacher.”

“I liked having you out here with me,” I admit.

She smiles back and then spins around and wobbles back toward the doors that lead into the warm lobby of the rink where the snacks and staircase to the upper level with the fireplace sits.

I skate back over, and the kid hands me a hockey stick. Several pucks are already lined up and he brought out a net. I tell him to shoot them so I can see where we need to start.

Within a few minutes of watching this kid do a decent job, something catches my eye on the second floor.

I see Zoey stand from the couch she was perched on earlier, watching everyone skating out on the ice.

My vision catches on the one thing that has my heart racing and my need to race up those steps and interrupt.

Liam.

I glance around the ice rink quickly, and the view of Shelby still on the ice rink looking around like she lost someone makesme aware that Liam is up there talking to Zoey with neither Shelby nor I around to witness it.

Goddammit.

I try to reel in my frustration.

I have an obvious future NHL recruit in front of me and someone Coach Bex will want to see once he hits his senior year.

Tack on the fact that racing up to the second story and barging in on this conversation won’t win me any points with Zoey.

If Zoey wants this to happen… if she still wants Liam to realize what he gave up so that he breaks it off with Shelby, then I’m better off staying down here.

I’d been stuck between the two of them before, and it didn’t end well for me. I won’t do it again.

Our history of her hating me for all these years doesn’t help the situation, and even though it feels like she’s warming back up to me, that’s a long stretch to agreeing to take me over him.

I stand at the bottom of the ice rink and stare straight up at them as Liam takes a few more steps closer to Zoey.

I fight back the urge to do a trick shot and whack a puck, sending it flying up at the glass window where Zoey is sitting to break their line of sight. I don’t want to startle her.

I hear a clearing of a voice that breaks me from my haze.

“Like this, Mr. Tomlin?” the kid says, taking another shot at the net.

Fuck, the kid is impressive, and I make a mental note to text Coach Bex to come down here next year to check out this kid his senior year.

“Call me Brent. And yeah, that looks good, kid. Keep it up, and make sure your hand position is in the middle of the stick and step into the shot. Don’t grip too high, or that will turn into a bad habit that Coach Bex will break you of like a stubborn mule if you come to the big leagues with it.”

“Coach Bex?!” he says, his eyes practically bulging from his head.

“I’ll let him know there’s some talent down here when I head back to Seattle. He might be interested in seeing you play next year.”

The kid's eyes flare with excitement.

“Wow, Mr. Tomlin… I mean Brent… thank you,” he says, a lopsided grin finally curving up as he says it.

“I have to get going because my friends are leaving. Keep it up, alright? You’ve got talent,” I tell him.

When I glance back up at the warming room, I see Liam with his hand on Zoey’s right arm. He’s rubbing her arm up and down, and she’s nodding at something he’s saying.

Even after all the coaching I just did in my head to tell myself not to blow up their second reunion, I can’t stop my skates from gliding over the ice in fury.

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