Page 94 of Icebound Hearts

“It’s on the charger,” I answer, pointing at the kitchen counter where Sawyer’s phone is plugged in and waiting.

“Did you do that?” Sawyer asks as he steps over to unplug it and check his notifications.

“Yeah. You left it down here and I noticed it was getting low, so I plugged it in for you.”

Sawyer drops his phone in his pocket. “Man, I could really get used to havingtwoassistants around here.” He grins at me, and I smile.

“What about your gear bag, Daddy?”

“It’s already in the trunk, buddy. I never took it out after the last game.”

“Then that’s everything! You’re ready to hit the road.”

“Well, not everything,” Sawyer says and kneels to get on Jake’s level, then taps his cheek. “I haven’t gotten my goodbye and good luck hug and kiss yet.”

“Vroom!” Jake makes an airplane noise, still pretending like he’s flying as he dashes toward Sawyer and throws himself at his dad. He pecks Sawyer’s cheek before wrapping his arms around his neck. “Good luck, Daddy!”

“Thanks, bud. I’ll be looking for you and Ms. Violet tonight.”

“We’ll be there,” I tell him as he stands and Jake runs to the fridge to hang the list and his new picture next to it. Sawyer takes the opportunity while Jake’s distracted to get closer to me.

“I left one of my jerseys out on your bed in case you decide to wear it. I hope you do,” he murmurs.

“Thanks. And good luck.” I wish I could at least give him a sendoff hug, but I don’t want to do it in front of Jake, so I just smile at him instead. “I’d tell you to break a leg, but after that game against the Cyclones, I don’t want to jinx you.”

He chuckles. “Good thinking. Alright, I’ll see you two in a bit.”

“Bye, Daddy!” Jake calls as Sawyer leaves, and as soon as he’s gone, I turn to the little boy.

“We’d better get some dinner in you before it’s too late. What are you in the mood for tonight?”

“Mac and cheese!” Jake declares, and I laugh.

“One of these days, you’re gonna turn into a macaroni noodle.”

I fix him up some dinner, and the two of us eat together, talking about our day and the game tonight. Once we’re finished, I have him help me load the dishwasher, then I make sure he’s ready to head out.

With Jake taken care of, I run upstairs to get ready myself. As soon as I walk into my bedroom and spot Sawyer’s jersey spread out on my bed, my pulse quickens.

I want to wear it. Ireallyfucking do.

I love the idea of cheering for him with his number on my chest and back, but I meant it when I told Sawyer that I was worried it would be too obvious.

After standing in the doorway debating for several long minutes, worrying my lip between my teeth, I finally let out a slow breath and head toward my closet. I know it would mean a lot to Sawyer to see me wearing it, but I just can’t do it. Not now, anyway.

Still, it takes all the willpower I can muster to grab Reese’s jersey from where it’s hanging in the closet. I tug it off the hanger and throw it over my head, and even though it’s safe and comfortable, it doesn’t really make me feel any better about my choice.

But I don’t have time to get sucked into the endless loop of my internal debate. I pull my hair up into a loose ponytail, cursing under my breath at the way the silky strands always seem to have a mind of their own, then hurry back downstairs to meet Jake.

Traffic is pretty bad, so the players are about halfway through their warmup when we get to the arena. Callie is there with her mom, and Becca seems to have brought a few friends from the local dance scene. Margo is busy recording social media footage as usual, so Jake and I are on our own, sitting close to the glass nearby.

Sawyer catches sight of us almost immediately as he skates across the ice. Jake waves, and his father grins and waves a gloved hand back. But when Sawyer’s gaze drifts over to me, I don’t miss the flash of disappointment that passes through his eyes, even from this distance.

I bite my lip and offer him a small smile, already regretting my choice not to wear his jersey.

We could have made up some excuse. Maybe it wouldn’t have been too obvious at all.

I sigh, wishing I could go back to that moment in my bedroom and pick up his jersey instead. I hope Sawyer knows that I was just trying to be practical, and that it’s not because I didn’t want to wear it.

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