Page 27 of Breakaway to You

Tuvalo bumped into me, harshly bringing me back to reality.

“I almost forgot you were on the team,” he taunted. “A duster, just like I told you.”

I ignored his chirping and got my head in the game.

The referee dropped the puck on the ice, wiping out thoughts of anything else. I threw myself into the game, my heart beating fast from adrenaline and physical exertion.

Holden sent the puck flying my way, and Tuvalo was on me almost as soon as I received it. I only had a split second to send it off to our forward, Ryder, before I was shoved against the boards. Pushing Tuvalo off me, I looked around him to see Ryder get a shot on goal, the puck flying past the goalie into the top shelf of the net. The perfect assist.

Tuvalo swore.

“Looks like you can’t even stop aduster,” I said with a smug look, skating away.

That goal only fueled Tuvalo’s dislike of me, with him pushing me even harder, which resulted in two turnovers.

I breathed out my frustration, not wanting to lose sight of winning as a team instead of sticking it to Tuvalo. I wanted to give it back to him twice as hard as he was giving me, but I knew that was what he wanted.

But then, like the hockey gods had heard my prayer, I received the puck without Tuvalo breathing down my neck. I only had a few seconds before he’d be racing over to me, and I was going to make this breakaway count. There was no one between me and the goalie, and this was my moment to finally get us ahead before the buzzer signaled the end of the game. I rolled my wrist quickly and powerfully, getting a shot off, the puck zipping toward the goal.

I held my breath as I waited, but less than a second passed before the puck hit the back of the net and the red light went off, signaling a goal.

I pumped my fist in the air. “Yes!”

Holden and Ryder slapped my helmet, congratulating me on my score.

The seconds wound down, the final buzzer signaling the end of the game and a win for the Wolves. The Blue Jays fans booed us, but we skated off the ice with smiles on our faces.

After Coach Hill talked to us, I showered and then headed to meet with Piper for my regular post-game physical therapy session. It used to bother me that I had to go do a session after every game, but now I looked forward to it—looked forward to seeing Piper.

When I showed up, she was tense. Her movements were rigid and exact, her lips pulled down in a grim frown. I wondered if it was because we were at the Blue Jays stadium, where she’d used to work, or because her ex was around here somewhere.

We went through a few exercises, exchanging a few words, but our session felt stilted. I only caught a glimpse of the real Piper for a split second when she complimented my wrist shot that won us the game.

She ended our session earlier than normal, and I figured she wanted to get out of here. I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to hang out at a job I’d quit, especially not when it was likely my ex was lingering somewhere in the stadium.

I sat up, about to thank her, but was interrupted.

“I hoped I’d find you here.” That voice. It grated on my nerves.

I turned to see Jordan walking through the doorway, freshly showered, his chin held high like he was some kind of god. Just his walk made me want to hit him.

Piper sighed. “You need to stop showing up when I’m working. I’m doing my job and don’t have time to talk to you.” She began packing up her things, avoiding his gaze.

“You’ve blocked my calls and texts, and now you don’t want me to come see you after games. Do I need to show up at your apartment so we can talk?” he asked, frustration lacing his tone.

My hands clenched at the thought of him showing up at her apartment, especially when she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in rekindling whatever they’d had.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you,” Piper said, matching his frustrating tone, “but we don’t have anything to talk about. It’s over. I don’t have any feelings for you anymore.” She paused, looking up at him. “Except for annoyance.”

His jaw clenched as he looked away from her, breathing heavily, clearly struggling to calm himself down.

I didn’t trust him with her, and there was no way I was leaving her alone with him. I’d be staying here until he was gone, and even then, I would walk her out to make sure he didn’t try to bug her again.

“I get that I hurt you and that you’re upset with me,” he started again. “But I’m a changed man. I took you for granted, and I’m sorry. Let’s go grab some dinner together. It will be like old times.”

“Jordan.” She put up her hand. “I don’t want it to be like old times. I don’t want to be with you at all. I’ve moved on, and you should too.”

His head pulled back like her words had shocked him. “You can’t be serious.” His eyes turned cold, and his nostrils flared. “Are you with someone else?”

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