Page 6 of Fated Shot

“I’m… Jack,” he articulates in a deep, husky voice. The air feels charged, and I’m intoxicated by this moment.Come on, Mia.Name. Tell him your name. I’m praying my mouth responds to my brain’s cue, and thankfully it does.

“Mia,” I manage, trying my best to level my tone. His lips curl upward to reveal a boyish smile, warming his face but doing nothing to dampen the intensity of his gaze.

“Watch it there, Brody, precious cargo,” a familiar voice calls out, snapping us out of our trance. I skate backwards two strides, moving out of his reach as my dad pulls up beside me.

Jack’s arms drop to his sides, standing motionless. He’s still watching me carefully, but the lingering intensity of our moment is slipping away. Kids start swerving around us as my dad jokingly calls out, “May need to get you back into skating lessons, eh, Amelia?”

“Uhh, yeah, definitely. Need more time on the ice, I guess…” I’m barely able to articulate the words. “Thanks for catching me,” I offer with a weak smile.

Jack nods firmly, now avoiding my eyes. He sends one final look at my dad before clearing his throat and skating off to rejoin the two others who had continued ahead.

***

Jack

After our win, I hop in the shower, change into a jersey and jeans, and join Penn as we walk out of the locker room. Reid is waiting for us in the corridor, flashing a wide grin.

The moment Penn spots him, his entire face lights up. “I thought you couldn’t come!” he shouts as he pulls him into a hug.

“First game of the season, we had to be here.”

“Pre-season, technically,” Penn corrects.

“Yeah, and good thing. You’re rusty as hell. I’m surprised they’re still letting you wear that jersey right now. Mom could’ve outskated you tonight,” he jokes, shoving him.

“Did you know about this, Brody?” Penn asks, turning to me.

“I may have been tipped off.”

As the three of us jump onto the ice, Reid immediately starts recounting in painstaking detail his new workout regimen. As soon as he gets started on training, he doesn’t stop. He built Penn and me each an individual summer workout plan. It’s a huge helphaving a personal trainer who knows you to a tee and can push you harder than anyone else. Don’t get me wrong, I love his passion, and he’s incredibly skilled at what he does, but it’s easy to zone him out. As he rambles on about super sets, I catch my mind drifting, slipping back to early mornings at Cordelia’s. I don’t know when she started consuming my thoughts, but I know I’ve never experienced anything like this before. This fascination, this infatuation, this… holy fuck do I sound like a stalker.

I sigh, willing myself to refocus on listening to Reid’s twenty-step HIIT routine. This works for a total of two minutes until, betrayingly, my mind flashes back to the game when our eyes connected, and I feel a jolt of electricity in my stomach. I think about her perfect face, watching me with intrigue… I drag my hand down my face, trying to shake off the thought of her yet again, right as I hear someone call out her name.

Slamming to a stop, my head whips toward the voice of Bev Cameron, and before I can process anything, we collide.

I’m pretty sure I black out from the entire encounter except for one small detail: my mystery girl, my Wyndham beauty, my… Mia is Amelia Cameron.Fuck.If I couldn’t get her before, I sure as hell can’t now. This just got a whole lot more complicated.

It doesn’t take more than a few strides to catch back up with Penn and Reid. The assholes who couldn’t even be bothered to slow their pace as I slammed to a stop three minutes earlier.

Penn bumps my shoulder as I match pace with them, “You good, bro?”

“Yeah,” I lie.

Definitely not good. Recap of events: the girl I’ve been desperate to speak to shows up at my game, giving me the attention I’ve been dying for all summer. Said girl is Coach’s Daughter. I now feel like I’ve been sucker-punched in the balls because unless I have a death wish or a dream of being unemployed and sleeping on Penn’s couch, this little crush ofmine is over. My mind spins as I try to make sense of the rollercoaster of emotions that have transpired over the last hour.

“Okay boys, five laps and then let’s hit the road. I’m starving, and this guy’s buying us steaks tonight,” Reid announces, jabbing an elbow into Penn’s ribs.

“Bullshit, you’re like five years older, aren’t you supposed to be the one providing for me?” Penn quips back.

Reid chimes in, “I’m not the one raking in seven hundred thousand a year at twenty-three, Penn.”

“Aw, jealous are we?” he teases as he raises an eyebrow.

“Nah, keep your money, at least it’s my jersey that Mom has hanging above the fireplace,” Reid proudly remarks, a smirk spreading across his face. I chuckle as Penn lunges at Reid, grabbing his shirt with both his hands.

“Alright, alright, we get it. You’re both legends,” I say stepping between them, breaking up their playful brawl. “Besides, Brooks family dinners are always my treat.”

We continue skating for a few more minutes as I try to focus on the conversation. I don’t dare to look up anymore, choosing to fixate instead on the incredibly interesting ice ahead of me. On our final lap, we decide it’s time for our mandatory photo op, standing in front of the red carpet and backdrop covered in the Tundra logo. When I finally allow myself to look up from my laces, I instantly regret my decision, spotting the family posing ahead of us.

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