Page 119 of Ice Mechanic

“It’s better than McLanely’s fist.” Watson points out.

I smirk at Watson and Gunner’s protectiveness. Theilan is young, impulsive and looks up to Gunner like the guy’s the town hero. In a sense, I guess he is.

Every time I forget that Gunner’s family is a big deal around Lucky Falls, I see the way everyone defers to him and remember that he’s the small-town version of Prince Harry.

Theilan falls back, but he’s still grumbling. “At least help a brother out and send me her number.”

“Whose number?” I grunt. He better not be talking about April.

“That smoking hot babe who’s been following you around.”

“Did you get a puck to the head?” I scoff. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the blonde who’s been at every game, staring at you the entire time.”

I squint at the bright, fluorescent lights, trying to come up with a visual.

None come to mind.

Gunner gives me a disbelieving look. “EvenInoticed her.”

“Does she stand out that much?” I don’t usually look in the crowd during or before games. Unless you count that time I couldn’t stop staring at April.

Gunner nods. “She came up to me at the bar last night and asked why you weren’t at any of the afterparties.”

I frown. “Sounds like a stalker.”

“I’d let her stalk me any day,” Watson coos, reaching over to fist bump Goode, another defender. “The girl’s got some bazookas on her, if you get what I’m saying.”

Deep-throated and appreciative laughter breaks out in the locker room.

I take another step toward the showers. “Even if I did know her, I wouldn’t set any of my female friends up with the likes of you, Theilan.”

Theilan grins. “I don’t need your help.”

“Why’s that?” Watson teases.

“She’s probably heartbroken that McLanely’s not interested. And as a young, single, caring man, I’m going to teach her the best way to get over someone.” Theilan wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“My man!” Watson slaps Theilan’s open palm.

Theilan throws one leg over the bench and starts yapping to Watson. “I looked her up, man. Her entire page is just her wearing these tiny little outfits. She’s just my type, super blonde,legs for days, this mmm…” his eyes roll back, “this Russian accent. Can you imagine that accent whispering in your ear?”

I crash to a stop. “Did you say she has a Russian accent?”

“Ring a bell?”

I immediately change directions, heading to my locker instead of the showers.

“What’s up?” Gunner asks, his eyes following me.

The entire locker room goes silent, watching as I yank out my gym bag from the locker and rifle through it.

I feel a calm presence behind me and notice that Renthrow is standing close by, on guard. His hair is damp on his forehead as if he didn’t get a chance to dry it yet. His eyes mirror the same concern in Gunner’s.

Ignoring all of them, I grab my cell phone, open a search engine and tap in the name of an old acquaintance.

There. ItisFina. Her latest posts are selfies taken at my games. She even has a few smeary photos of me on the ice with heart-eyed emojis around my head.

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