Page 213 of Skate the Line

Her fingers clamp onto it, like she’s afraid I’ll take it.

I hide my emotions and lean against the counter. “Sunny make that for you?”

Ellie lowers her head with a tiny nod.

She’s hurting, and I hate myself for fucking everything up.

I place a tender kiss on top of her head and say nothing. I head upstairs to get our things ready for the next few days.

We’re going through the motions at this point.

Cereal for breakfast, messy house, school drop-offs, rushing to the arena, and a stomach full of stress over the thought of being away from Ellie.

That’s not the only issue either.

I can’t stop thinking about the hurt I saw on Sunny’s face when she decided to leave—like she didn’t want to at all.

But if she didn’t want to, then why did she?

Sixty-Three

RHODES

Coach Jacobs slapsme on the shoulder as he stands behind me on the bench. “I’ve never seen you in the penalty box this much. What the fuck is going on?”

I flex my jaw.

I’mpissed.Obviously.

“His good luck charm is gone,” Coach Tarvo mutters.

Kane stiffens beside me, and Malaki mumbles something that I can’t hear over my heartbeat in my ears.

Coach Tarvo has been on my shit list since he got here.

Day four with him, and I swear to god, he has it out for me, like he’s just trying to get under my skin.

“How about you do your fucking job and help our offense instead of worrying about my personal life?” I look him dead in the eye and could strangle him.

He’s probably the one who stuck the sun sticker on my locker too—for “good luck.”None of the guys fessed up to it, not that I thought they would after I snapped my stick in half and threatened the entire team.

When I came back for the second intermission, the sticker was gone.

I didn’t find it funny.

Tarvo smirks from down the line and looks back out onto the ice.

Crew comes flying toward the bench, and I stand at full height to replace him.

I skate with vigilant speed, knocking opponents down left and right. The other team is off-sides, and I pull my guys in and make a call that goes against Tarvo’s, because the only thing he’s done since getting here is make things worse.

Kane wins the puck drop. It shoots out to the left. Hayes swoops around and chucks it back and forth, teasing the defensemen. Once I sweep behind the net and get into position, I tap the ice, and the puck slides to me. I shoot it over to Malaki, who sends it flying toward the net. It hits the top bar and drops in perfectly.

After skating over to give him a tap on the helmet, I look directly at Tarvo.

He’s glaring at me.

His frustration stays well after the game, following me to the locker room.

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