Page 66 of Breakaway to You

“What are you talking about?

“Coach doesn’t really want to meet with you. I just asked Holden to tell you that. I was worried that if you knew you were meeting me here, you wouldn’t come,” he said.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to think about how he’d planned to get me here.

“I want to tell you something. But first…” He bent down, and when he stood back up he was holding a pair of skates. They must have been waiting on the ice on the other side of the wall. “I need you to put these on.”

“Uh,” I hesitated. “I’m not the best ice skater.”

Zeke’s lips twitched with amusement. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold your hand and make sure you don’t fall.”

I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to figure out what was going on beneath his calm exterior. His expression was unreadable, but something flickered in his eyes—something he wasn’t saying. I figured the fastest way to find out what was to put the skates on.

Taking the skates from him, I sank onto the bench behind me and started lacing them up.

When I finished, he stepped forward, offering his hand. His grip was strong and steady as he pulled me to my feet.

The second my blades touched the ice, my legs wobbled, and I instinctively gripped his forearm. He smiled, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of my hand. “Told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

The feel of his hand wrapped around mine sent a warmth up my arm, spreading through my chest. It was a simple touch, but it was a quiet reassurance, a connection neither of us acknowledged out loud.

We started out slow, sticking to the perimeter of the rink. The silence between us stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. We were both waiting—I was waiting for him to say whatever had been on his mind when he’d invited me here, and I assumed he was waiting until I felt more comfortable on the ice. The silence didn’t bother me, though, and I enjoyed the moment of being alone with him in a place where he had always found the most comfort.

After a full loop around the rink, I wasn’t as stiff. My movements became smoother, my grip on his hand loosening just slightly. Zeke must have noticed because he finally spoke.

“I’m not sure if you heard or not, but the Wolves offered to extend my contract.” His voice was even, but there was something beneath it, a weight he was trying to keep steady.

“Yeah, I did hear that.” I glanced up at him with a smile. “Congratulations, Zeke. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It came as a little bit of a surprise, but it felt good to hear I’m valued and wanted on the team.”

“Well, if anyone deserves it, it’s you.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so dedicated to the game—not just on the ice, but off the ice as well.”

“Thank you,” he said again, pausing a moment before continuing. “As much as I love the game and have literally dedicated my life to it…I turned it down.”

My skate caught on the ice, and I stumbled forward with a sharp gasp. Zeke’s reflexes kicked in, and his arm shot out, wrapping around my waist just before I hit the ice.

“Whoa, there,” he murmured, his breath warm against my temple. “You okay?”

I barely heard him over the rushing in my ears. My fingers clutched at his sleeve. “What do you mean you turned it down?”

My mind reeled. I couldn’t have heard him right. Hockey had been his entire world. He had built his entire identity around it. He was the guy who never took a day off, who pushed his body past its limits, who would have played until the league physically forced him out. I wouldn’t have put it past him to go play for one of the minor league teams in the AHL once he was finished with the NHL. And now he was telling me he hadturned downa contract extension?

“I turned down the offer because I’ve come to realize that being a hockey player has fulfilled its purpose in my life.” His voice was steady, like he had made peace with the decision. “And now I want to pursue something new.”

I stared up at him blankly, still trying to process what he was telling me.

“But…but you love hockey,” I stammered. “You’re a hockey player—it’s who you are, who you love being.” I wasn’t sure if I was so much telling him this or asking what had happened in the last several weeks to have turned him around so completely.

A small, amused smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I do love hockey. That won’t ever change.” His voice was laced with understanding, as if he knew exactly why I was struggling to process this. “And for a long time, it was everything to me. But now…” He exhaled, glancing around the arena before looking back at me. “Now that the Wolves are out of the playoffs, Iwasa hockey player. It’s still a part of me, probably always will be. But it’s not the only thing I am.”

Well, yeah,Iknew that, but he hadn’t seemed to know it just a few months ago. He had been convinced that hockey was the only thing keeping him grounded. Now he was standing in front of me, saying it wasn’t his whole world anymore?

My face must have shown my disbelief, because he shifted, moving directly in front of me. He took both of my hands in his, rubbing slow circles with his thumbs.

“I didn’t make this decision rashly,” he assured me. “I thought about it for a long time—thought about what you and I talked about that night at my house, about different paths I could take. I talked with Crew about retirement, and…” His voice dropped lower, more affectionate. “I finally came to the conclusion that playing hockey for another year no longer felt like my next step in life.”

The tension in my shoulders eased. I just wanted him to be happy. And if this was what he wanted, if this was what felt right to him, then it truly was great news.

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