Page 65 of Checks & Bonds

Henry

The sharp buzz of my phone alarm shattered the silence, dragging me from the depths of sleep. I groaned, furrowing my brow as I slowly opened my eyes. The room was still cloaked in darkness, save for the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains.

Morning skate.

Great.

Somehow, during the night, Freya had shifted closer and wound up nestled in my arms. Her small frame fit perfectly against me, radiating warmth. Protective instincts stirred deep within me, stronger than I'd ever felt before. I hadn’t intended to reveal so much to her last night, but something about her disarmed me.

Freya stirred slightly, her breathing soft and even. She looked so peaceful like this, far removed from the tension and arguments that had defined our interactions so far. It struck me how vulnerable she seemed, and I tightened my hold on her instinctively.

But I knew I couldn't stay in bed all morning, no matter how much I wanted to. Responsibilities waited for no one, especially not a Mathers.

Carefully, I disentangled myself from Freya's embrace. She murmured something in her sleep but didn't wake up. I paused for a moment, just watching her. The curve of her cheek, the way her hair fanned out on the pillow—details I'd never taken the time to notice before.

Sighing softly, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. My muscles protested; yesterday’s workout still lingered in my body. The events of last night played through my mind as I dressed quietly. It had been raw and unplanned, but perhaps it had been necessary.

I glanced back at Freya one last time before heading out of the room. She shifted again in her sleep, curling into the space where I'd been lying moments before.

As I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen for a quick bite before heading to practice, a strange mix of emotions churned inside me—frustration, confusion, but also something new: a sliver of hope.

I drove to practice, my mind lingering on the image of Freya sleeping peacefully. The roads were empty at this early hour, and the only sounds were the hum of the engine and the faint whisper of tires against asphalt. Part of me considered taking her with me, just to keep an eye on her, but I knew it was impractical. She needed rest, and the rink was no place for someone still adjusting to... everything.

The town passed by in a blur, and soon enough, I pulled into the parking lot of the ice rink. My teammates' cars were scattered around, a few headlights cutting through the early morning mist. I parked and sat there for a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel. The routine of practice wassupposed to be grounding, but today, it felt like a distraction I couldn’t afford.

Inside, the locker room buzzed with the usual pre-practice chatter. The guys were in various stages of gearing up, some stretching while others joked around. Liam caught my eye from across the room and gave me a nod.

"Morning," I called out as he tightened his skates.

He nodded back, turning back to his goalie pads. As I started changing into my gear, my thoughts drifted back to Freya again. I wondered if she was still asleep or if she’d wake up to an empty bed and feel even more alone.

"Everything good?" Keaton’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

"Yeah," I replied, yanking my jersey over my head. "Just a lot on my mind. Things are... complicated."

He chuckled softly. "Aren't they always?"

I forced a grin, though it felt more like a grimace. "True enough."

The banter continued around us as I finished suiting up. Helmet in hand, I headed toward the rink, trying to shake off the lingering tension. The cold air hit me as soon as I stepped onto the ice, and for a moment, it was almost refreshing.

Almost.

Coach Morgan blew his whistle sharply, signaling us to gather around. As we skated over, I pushed thoughts of Freya aside and focused on the task at hand. Practice was where I needed to be right now—physically and mentally. The ice demanded my full attention.

But somewhere in the back of my mind, she lingered.

"All right, boys, let's get to it. We're working on breakouts today. Kennedy, lead the first drill."

Levi Kennedy nodded, taking his position at center ice. As much as I loathed the guy for what he had put my sister through,he had all but made up for it. And he was a damn good hockey player.

As we ran through the motions, I could feel my body falling into the rhythm of practice. The repetition was comforting in its own way—a series of movements I could perform without thinking too much about them.

Keaton passed me the puck, and I felt the familiar weight of it against my stick. I skated down the rink, eyes scanning for an opening. Liam was already in position at the goal, crouched low and ready for anything. I faked left, then shot right, sending the puck flying toward the net.

Liam's glove snapped out and caught it effortlessly. "Nice try," he said with a smirk.

"You're getting slow," I shot back, skating past him to get back on the blue line.

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