Page 13 of Cross Check Hearts

“It’s tough, but it’s going pretty well.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. What about yoga?”

“Amazing. I came right here from the studio after my last class. I can’t believe it, but it was totally full. They’ve all been selling out lately, actually. Patricia wants me to take on more classes,” I add with a grin. “She says my approach is really connecting with people.”

My mother nods. “It’s so wonderful that you have a side job like that to put yourself through school. And Patricia is lucky to have you!”

My smile dims slightly, even though I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. Yoga is so much more than just a “side job” to me, and hearing her call it that stings, but I keep it to myself as my mother picks up her purse.

“I’m going to hit the concession stand before the game starts,” she declares. “Do you want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Alright. Be right back.”

She leaves me in the stands, but I’m not alone for even a minute before I spot Declan skating across the ice, heading right for where I’m sitting. My heart hammers in my chest, getting faster as he gets closer. I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t know where my dad is, but I hope like hell that he isn’t seeing any of whatever is about to happen.

Declan slides to a stop on the other side of the glass and waves at me. “There you are. I thought you fell off the face of the earth or something,” he says with a smirk.

“Sort of. Law school is like a black hole,” I banter back, and he chuckles.

“A black hole that apparently still allows you time to teach yoga,” he says, and my eyes widen in surprise. He shrugs with a satisfied smile. “I might have done some research now that I know who you are.”

“Stalking me now?” I ask, trying to sound disapproving but feeling oddly flattered.

“Not stalking. Just… interested. There’s a difference,” he counters, his brown eyes gleaming. “So what are you doing here for a preseason game? Does this mean you couldn’t resist my magnetic pull?”

I snort, doing my best to suppress a smile. “I know you probably think the world revolves around you, but I didn’t come for you. I’m here for my dad.”

Declan grins at me, clearly not deterred. “I’m gonna be a big star, haven’t you heard? You know, you should probably get a signed puck from me now before they’re worth millions.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I don’t need anything to remember you by.”

“Well, that’s good because I’m pretty sure I already gave you plenty to remember me by. Although I’d be happy to give you some new memories if you want.” He winks at me.

My breath catches in the back of my throat. I can’t believe he’s being so bold, or how much my body is reacting to his words, so all I can do is stare at him.

He laughs, skating a little closer to the glass as he adds, “I’ll make sure we score a goal, just for you.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you say that to all the women who come to your games?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Just the ones who’ve taken permanent residence in my mind for the last six months.” His voice drops lower, intimate despite the barrier of glass between us. The playfulness in his expression shifts to something that could probably melt the ice beneath his skates. “Just you, hummingbird.”

I go rigid in my seat. He sounded so sincere when he said it that it’s impossible to doubt he means it, and I don’t have a clue what to do with that information. Or if I should do anything at all with it. I scramble to think of some witty comeback, something to defuse the tension, but my mind has gone completely blank.

Declan holds my gaze for a moment longer, then skates off, and I stare after him, trying to get my pulse to go back to a normal rhythm. I’m so distracted that I barely notice my mother returning until she settles onto the seat beside me.

“I barely beat the line,” she declares, holding up a bucket of popcorn. I blink at her, hoping she didn’t see or hear any of my conversation with Declan just now. She had to have seen him skating away, so maybe she put two and two together that we were talking, but if she asks, I decide I’ll just tell her that the newest member of the Aces was introducing himself to me. Hopefully, she’ll buy that.

“Do you want any?” she asks, offering me the bucket, but my stomach is in knots, so I shake my head at her.

“No, thanks.”

She shrugs. “It’s low-calorie. It won’t ruin your yoga figure.”

I shoot her a sideways glance. “Maybe without the pound of butter you drizzled on it,” I tell her dryly, and she chuckles.

“You sound like your father. It doesn’t hurt to live a little every now and then, sweetheart.”

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