Page 10 of Stick Handled

“What do you want then?” she asks cautiously.

“I don’t know yet,” I lie again. I knowexactlywhat I want. I’m staring right at it. “Let’s just say you owe me,” I suggest.

She takes a deep breath but doesn’t run this time. She squares her shoulders, trying to play it cool.

“Deal.” She nods, and I grin like the Cheshire cat.

Well, this just got a lot more interesting.

The next day, I pull out of my driveway and head up to Rowan’s, the engine rumbling under me as I park. I grab my phone and text Avery to let her know I’m outside, and she’s quick to reply, telling me to stay put. A minute later, she’s slipping out of the front door like she’s sneaking out, glancing over her shoulder as she hurries to the car.

What the hell?

I roll down the window as she approaches, one eyebrow raised. “Is someone chasing you, Red?”

She freezes for a second, clearly caught off-guard by my question, then quickly shakes her head, not adding anything.

She climbs into the passenger seat, and I notice the way she’s still fidgeting. And it just makes me even more suspicious. Something’s definitely up. I start the car and pull out of the driveway.

“You wanna tell me why you looked like you were being hunted out there? Does Rowan know where you’re going?” Andwith whomyou’re going.

Avery shoots me a quick, nervous glance. “Yes, he knows that I’m going out,” she assures me.

Uh-huh. That’s not what I asked. But I won’t push. I don’t want to scare her off before the fun’s even begun.

We pull up to the rink, and I glance over at Avery. She’s been quiet for most of the ride, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie, probably second-guessing this whole idea. But now, as we sit in front of the massive building, her eyes widen in that nervous, doe-eyed way she gets.

Perfect.

I kill the engine and get out of the car, rounding to her side before she can hesitate.

“C’mon, Red,” I say, opening her door. “We’ve got the place to ourselves.”

She looks at me hesitantly. “The guys aren’t practicing today, are they?”

“They’re not,” I reply, watching her reaction. “No one is.” The truth is, I made a call beforehand. I wanted to make sure no one would interrupt us for at least an hour. Just me, her, and the ice. “It’s all ours.”

She swallows hard and hops out of the car. No distractions. Nowhere to hide. And I can see the nerves creeping in already.

I lead her inside, the cold air hitting us as we step through the door. The rink is lit, the ice pristine and untouched. It’s quiet, except for the low hum of the ice machine somewhere in the back. Avery pauses, taking in the space like she’s seeing it for the first time, and I don’t rush her. I like watching her get lost in her thoughts. I can tell she’s feeling something—memories, maybe, or that rush of adrenaline that comes with being near the ice. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her eyes scan the whole area like she’s reconsidering the whole thing.

I’ve already made sure everything’s ready, including her skates.

I nudge her forward. “Locker rooms are this way.”

She follows me, and her presence behind me is almost overwhelming, especially in the narrow hallway leading to the locker rooms. She’s alone in here with me, scared and hesitant. A castaway on stranger tides, following the shark anyway.

Her breathing is shallow, and I know she’s trying to keep it together, but I can sense how wound up she is.

We step into the empty locker room, the lights flickering to life overhead. Leather couches are along the wall, and I motion for her to sit.

“Get comfortable,” I say, placing the skates I got for her at her feet. I’d guessed her size. I got it right.

“Comfortable. Right,” Avery says awkwardly, staring at the skates like they’re foreign objects. “You got these for me?”

“I did.” I nod, not taking my eyes off her. The tension is thick in the air now, and the small space is making it impossible to ignore.

She hesitates before slowly sitting down and taking her shoes off. I can read her whole face like a book. She’s terrified and extremely uncomfortable. She looks like she’s an inch away from tapping out, yet she still slips her feet inside the skates.

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