Page 82 of Faking It For Real

"Scared? Of what?"

"Of feeling something real. Hockey's safe for you. It's all you've ever known. But Mia? Mia's uncharted territory."

I started to protest, but the words died in my throat. Maybe he was right.

"Look," Dylan continued, his voice gentler now, "I get it. The timing sucks. You've got the biggest games of your career coming up. But pushing away something good because you're afraid? That's not the Ethan Wright I know."

I stared out at the darkening sky. "What if I can't do both? What if I have to choose?"

"Who says you have to choose? Why can't you have hockey AND Mia?"

"Because..." I hesitated, the real fear finally surfacing. "Because what if I mess it all up? What if I lose focus and blow my shot at the NHL? Or what if I focus too much on hockey and hurt her? I've never been good at balancing, Dylan. It's always been all hockey, all the time."

Dylan started the Jeep back up. "Maybe that's the problem. Maybe it's time to find out who Ethan Wright is when he's not just a hockey player."

We drove back to our apartment in silence, his words echoing in my head. Who was I without hockey? The thought was terrifying.

That night, I made a decision. Until after the championship, I needed to focus solely on hockey. It was the only way to ensure I didn't throw away everything I'd worked for. Mia would understand. She had to.

Over the next week, I threw myself into preparation with military precision. Early morning workouts. Extra skating practice. Film study until my eyes burned. Protein shakes instead of the occasional pizza with Dylan.

When Mia texted to see if I wanted to grab coffee, I replied that I was swamped with semifinals prep but would catch up with her soon. When she showed up at practice with her camera, I gave her a quick nod but kept my distance. Professional. Focused.

I told myself it was temporary. Just until after the championship. Just until my future was secure.

But I couldn't help noticing the confusion in her eyes when I rushed off after practice without our usual conversation. Or the way her smile dimmed when I made excuses to avoid our regular coffee meet-ups.

"You're being an idiot," Dylan informed me on day five of Operation Avoid Mia, as I declined yet another invitation to meet her for lunch.

"I'm being focused," I corrected, adding a scoop of protein powder to my blender.

"No, you're being a coward," he shot back. "And a bad boyfriend, fake or otherwise."

"This is temporary," I insisted. "Once the championship is over—"

"Once the championship is over, she might be done waiting for you to get your head out of your ass." Dylan grabbed his keys from the counter. "But hey, at least you'll have hockey, right?"

His words stung more than I wanted to admit. But I pushed the feeling aside. Hockey first, heart second. That was the plan.

The strategy worked, at least on the ice. Coach Alvarez noticed the difference immediately.

"Whatever you've been doing, keep it up," he told me after I led the team to a decisive victory in an important game. "That's the Ethan Wright the scouts want to see."

I nodded, accepting the praise even as I caught sight of Mia packing up her camera equipment by the boards. She didn't look my way.

The night before the semifinals, the hockey house was packed for the traditional pre-game party. As team captain, I had to make an appearance, though I planned to stay only an hour—just long enough to boost team morale before heading home for a good night's sleep.

When I arrived, the house was already packed—music was pumping, and red cups were scattered everywhere. I made my rounds: checked in with my teammates, accepted their congratulations on our season, and assured everyone we’d reach the finals.

I was counting the minutes until I could slip out when I spotted her across the room. Mia was by the staircase, camera in hand as always, taking candid shots of the celebration. She wore a simple green top that made her eyes look even more striking than usual. Her hair was down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders.

My chest tightened with a familiar ache. God, I'd missed her. The realization hit me like a body check I hadn't braced for.

Our eyes met across the crowded room, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the party, the semifinals, the scouts. Just Mia, looking at me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

I started toward her, no clear plan in mind except that I suddenly needed to talk to her, to explain, to see if I could undo some of the damage I'd caused this past week.

"Ethan! There you are!"

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