Page 82 of The Roommate Remodel

The sound of skates cutting into the ice pulls my attention back to the game. While I was thinking about Jaz, I lost a chance to gain control of a loose puck. I leap forward to beat my opponent, panic spiraling inside me, and I’m a second too late to reach it in time.

When you lose focus, you lose your shot.It’s been drilled into me as long as I can remember.

But I’ve never had a girlfriend that’s so distracting. I have to shut her out of my mind, put my blinders on, and play like a beast.

After the game, I can give my full attention to her.

I hustle down the rink, frustration driving me forward as my opponent shoots toward another player. Adrenaline courses through my veins as I intercept the puck and pass it to Leo, who’s swarmed by two opponents. He narrowly keeps control, but they’re forcing him back. I skate toward him, hoping that if he can flick the puck to me, I can pass to Vale, who’s in position to shoot.

With an angry grunt, an opponent shoves Leo into the wall and steals the puck. I leap forward, and our sticks crack together as I narrowly swipe the puck away.

Rushing forward, I push the puck down the rink at full speed, my skates cutting into the ice as sweat prickles under my helmet. Ican’t see the clock, but I can feel the buzz of the crowd, the pressure of time slipping away.

I recklessly careen toward the goalie, who’s daring me to come at him with a scowl.

Then I slap the puck and watch it narrowly slip in the gap over his right leg, sinking into the net with a precision that’s astounding.

The horn blares and the entire Crushers team lifts their sticks into the air, hollering like we won the Stanley Cup.

Vale nearly tackles me on the ice only moments before Leo, Lucian, and Tate swarm me.

But I’m not focused on them or that we won.

My gaze shifts to the only seat in the house that matters. Relief pours through my body when I see her.

Jaz jumps up, lifting both fists with an enormous smile on her face.

That’s when I notice why she left in the last period.

She’s wearing the team jersey. In front of Alex. In front of everyone.

And it’smine.

NINETEEN

Jaz

“What are you doing?” Sloan says to me, eyeing my jersey as we sneak away from Alex to leave the game.

“Finding Brax,” I tell her over my shoulder as I grab her arm and yank her along. I zigzag through the halls, attempting to reach Brax before he slips into the locker room.

“I meant wearing that,” she warns. “Number sixteen.In front of your boss.”

I shrug. “I’ll give her an excuse if she asks. It’s none of her business how I spend my free time. Or withwhom.”

“Aren’t you worried about your job?” Sloan asks, ignoring the crowd and staring at me.

“I’m playing it safe,” I assure her. “Brax and I keep things very professional at work.”

“Unlike at home, where you’re awfully handsy with each other.” She raises an eyebrow.

I’ve confessed to her that I had a massive crush on Brax long before he kissed me, ever since the first time we met at the Maplewood Mistletoe Festival.

Even then, Brax was Mr. Flirty-Pants, and I blamed it on the romantic mood of the festival.

Despite telling myself there was no future for us, I couldn’tseem to stop myself, like a car without brakes headed toward the cliff’s edge.

When he showed up at the wedding, dressed in a fitted black tux, looking so good he put Chris Hemsworth to shame, his gaze laser-targeted on me, all my weak excuses about why I couldn’t fall for Brax crumbled like a cookie in a toddler’s hand.

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