Page 20 of They All Puck Me

As I skate to the center of the rink, I feel her gaze follow me, an unexpected warmth spreading through my chest. I start with some simple puck-handling drills, moving the puck between my skates with precision.

“Nice control,” she calls out from the boards, her voice carrying clearly across the ice.

“Just getting started,” I reply, not looking up.

I shift into shooting drills, sending pucks flying into the corners of the net with deadly accuracy. Each shot reverberates through the arena, and I catch glimpses of Olivia scribbling furiously in her notebook.

“Is it always this easy for you?” she asks after a particularly sharp shot.

I smirk. “Nothing’s easy in hockey.”

She laughs softly. “True. But you make it look effortless.”

I skate closer to where she’s standing, feeling an odd need to explain myself. “Years of practice and a lot of bruises. You don’t get good without taking a few hits.”

“Sounds like life,” she says thoughtfully.

“Pretty much.” I set up for another drill, this time focusing on my footwork and agility. The rapid turns and stops are second nature to me, but knowing she’s watching adds an extra edge to my movements.

“How do you stay so quick on your feet?” she asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s all about balance and knowing your body,” I say, finishing the drill and gliding back towards her. “You gotta trust your instincts.”

She leans against the boards, clearly impressed. “Ever get nervous before a game?”

“Never.” The word comes out more forcefully than intended.

Her eyes search mine for a moment before she nods slowly. “I believe you.”

I finish a particularly sharp spin and send the puck sailing into the top corner of the net. It’s one of my signature moves, and I can feel Olivia's eyes on me, analyzing every detail.

“Damn,” she calls out with a small clap, her voice echoing slightly in the empty rink. She steps down from the boards, her boots clicking against the ice surface. “Impressive. How do you do that?”

I skate over, stopping just inches from her. “It’s all about muscle memory,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral but failing to hide a hint of pride.

“Can you explain the mechanics of that move?” she asks, notebook ready.

I hesitate, knowing words won’t do it justice. “It’ll be easier if I show you.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Show me?”

“Yeah,” I say, already moving towards her. “Come on, it’s not that hard.”

She looks skeptical but takes my offered hand. Her grip is firm but hesitant. “Alright, but don’t laugh if I fall.”

“No promises,” I reply with a smirk.

She steps gingerly onto the ice, her boots slipping slightly. I steady her with a hand on her waist. The contact sends a jolt through me, but I ignore it.

“Okay,” I say, positioning her feet. “First, you need to get your balance.”

She nods, concentrating hard as she mimics my stance.

“Now, shift your weight like this,” I guide her through the motion slowly. She follows my lead, surprisingly steady for a first-timer.

“Alright,” she says, confidence growing in her voice.

“Now for the shot.” I place a puck in front of her stick and guide her hands into position. Ignoring the spark I feel when touching her. “Use your whole body to swing through.”

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