"Uh..." He glanced around nervously. "Can I ask you something? Like... privately?"
I raised an eyebrow but nodded, leading him to the quieter corner near the equipment room.
"There's this girl in my econ class," he started, his voice so low I had to lean in to hear him. "We've been study partners all semester, and I think... I mean, I really like her. But I don't know if she sees me as anything more than the guy who helps her understand supply curves."
I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. When none came, I realized with a start that he was genuinely asking for my advice. Me. The guy whose dating experience consisted of one toxic relationship with Vanessa and a fake-but-maybe-not-so-fake arrangement with Mia.
"Have you tried, I don't know, talking to her about something other than economics?" I asked carefully.
Reyes’ face fell. "I try, but I get nervous and then start rambling about price elasticity."
Despite myself, I laughed. "Okay, look. Find out what she's interested in—like really into—and ask her about that. People love talking about their passions. And then actually listen, don't just wait for your turn to speak."
He looked at me like I'd just revealed the secret to perpetual motion. "That's... that actually makes sense."
"I'm not completely useless," I grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Just mostly."
What I didn't expect was for this exchange to open the floodgates. By the time we were heading out to the ice, three more players had cornered me with relationship questions, as if I'd suddenly become the team's dating guru.
"My girlfriend keeps leaving passive-aggressive sticky notes around our apartment instead of just telling me what's wrong," Sanchez complained as we walked toward the rink.
"Maybe try asking her directly? Wild concept, I know," I suggested, and was met with a look of genuine revelation.
The most surreal moment came when Jensen—all six-foot-four, 220 pounds of him—approached me in the hallway, nervously checking that no one else was within earshot.
"Captain," he began solemnly, "I need your expertise."
I braced myself for another dating crisis. "What's up?"
"My girlfriend gave me a houseplant," he whispered, as if confessing to a felony. "It's like a symbol of our relationship or something. If it dies, we're doomed. How do I keep it alive?"
I stared at him, completely bewildered. "Jensen, I play hockey. I'm not a botanist."
"But you're in a healthy relationship," he insisted. "You must know about keeping things alive."
Before I could explain that my relationship with Mia wasn't exactly what everyone thought, Dylan appeared, slinging an arm around Jensen's massive shoulders.
“Rookie mistake,” Dylan said sagely. “Plants are like hockey players—they need tough love. Water them with a sports drink—the electrolytes are the key.”
“Really?” Jensen asked eagerly.
“No!” I cut in. “For God’s sake, don’t water your plant with a sports drink. Just… search it online like a normal person.”
Jensen nodded seriously, as if I'd imparted great wisdom, and lumbered off toward the ice.
Dylan watched him go, then turned to me with a smirk. "Well, look at you. Ethan 'Hockey Is My Only Girlfriend' Wright, suddenly a relationship guru."
"It's ridiculous," I muttered. "Since when does anyone on this team care about relationship advice?"
"Since their captain started walking around looking like he won the lottery every time his phone buzzes with a text from a certain photographer," Dylan replied, his voice suddenly serious. "It's given them hope, man."
I didn't know how to respond to that. Thankfully, Coach Alvarez saved me by blowing his whistle from the ice, signaling the start of practice.
Practice went well—better than expected for the first day back after break. I'd worried that I'd be distracted, thinking about Mia and the increasingly real feelings I had for her, but strangely, her presence in my life seemed to have the opposite effect. I felt calmer, more focused, like I had something beyond hockey anchoring me.
Coach must have noticed it too, because he pulled me aside as we were wrapping up.
"You seem different lately," he said, studying me with his characteristic intensity. "More balanced."