Page 148 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

“Hey,” I say, pulling Parker to a stop when I see the locker room door. “You can go. I don’t want you to get in trouble for butting into their post-game whatever.”

“Are you sure? It’s just … I feel like your dad might forgive you more easily than me.”

She might be surprised. “It’s fine. I promise.”

Parker starts to walk off, then stops and bites her lip. “Will you … tell me how things are going? Just keep me in the loop for whatever is going on with you and your dad and you and Van.I don’t want anyone losing their jobs. Or faces. When you feel ready. No pressure. Mild pressure,” she amends. “Or medium.”

I laugh. “I’ll tell you. Thanks.”

“Oh, and definitely knock first!” Parker calls from down the hallway. “But you still might want to cover your eyes when you go in there.”

Lex steps in front of me and kneads my shoulders like I’m a boxer about to head into the ring. “Don’t show fear. Just be yourself.”

“Is this really necessary?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Lex says. “We’re not sure what your plan is. But this kind of speech seems to work in the movies.”

“One question.” Callie nudges Lex aside and makes pointed eye contact. “Are you going to break his heart?”

Lex and Grey say nothing, but I can practically feel all three of them holding their breath.

I remember the expression on Van’s face when he saw me with his sisters. When he skated over to me right after the game. When he pressed his forehead to the glass.

“No. Now, step aside and wish me luck.” I step toward the door and knock loudly. “I need to see Coach Davis!” I call. But I don’t wait for a response. “I’m coming in!”

Taking Parker’s words to heart, I cover my eyes and step inside the room, peeking only between my fingers. From my limited view, I don’t see tons of skin on display, so I think I’m safe. When I drop my hand, I see a few guys are out of their jerseys, but at least everyone’s still wearing pants. Van is in a white tank top, showing off the tip of his dragon tattoo.

“Amelia?” My dad frowns.

I drop my hand and glare at my father, who’s standing across the room. Very near Van, I can’t help but notice. There’s no blood, but there’s definitely tension. The assistant coaches andMalik are standing close too, though, like maybe I’m not the only one worried about my dad lashing out right now.

“You two,” I say, pointing between my dad and Van. “Your office. We need to talk.”

When they don’t immediately stop staring at each other and move, I clap my hands. “I’m serious.Now. Then you can get back to …” I trail off and look around, wondering exactly what I’ve interrupted.

Eli grins at me, flipping his sweaty blond hair out of his eyes. “Coach was just yelling at us for”—my dad clears his throat and Eli pauses—“um, sorry—he was telling us we should have played the whole game the way we played in the third period.”

“Yes. That about sums it up,” Dad says. “Though I did have something else I wanted to say to Van.”

Oh, boy.

Van glances at me, then back to my dad. “Yes, sir?”

I’m not sure if my dad is being dramatic on purpose, dragging this out to make Van sweat, or if he’s pausing for another reason. The whole room is waiting.

And I’d bet Van’s sisters have their ears pressed to the door, also waiting.

“You made a good call with that assist,” he says finally. “You could have gone for the glory, taken the risky shot. But you made the better choice for the team. Good job.”

I almost fall over. Van looks equally surprised. Maybe there’s hope after all.

“Thank you, sir,” Van says.

“But as far as my daughter is concerned?—”

Never mind.

“Hey,” I shout across the room. “Not here. Come on.”

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