Page 25 of Cross Check Hearts

“Crocheting,” I tell her, and she almost chokes on her drink. She sets her glass down with a clatter and looks at me with wide eyes as she struggles to get the liquid down, then takes a sputtering breath. When she’s gotten herself back together, she shakes her head and grins.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, I’m just shocked. That’s the last thing I would’ve guessed.”

I shrug. “It’s okay, I’m used to it. Most people are surprised when I tell them.”

Hannah hesitates, biting her lower lip like she’s afraid to say what’s on the tip of her tongue. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t blame them. That’s an unusual hobby for a professional hockey player. How did you get into it?”

“It was something my grandma used to love doing, and I loved spending time with her, so she offered to teach me when I was a kid. Turns out I’m pretty good at it, so it kind of became our thing. Before I knew it, I was totally hooked—pun intended. She passed away a while back, so now it’s my way of keeping that connection going. Every time I pick up my crochet hook and get to work, it feels like she’s giving me a big hug.”

I don’t usually share all of that with people, but something about Hannah makes me want to let her see the parts of me I typically keep private.

She gives me a sad smile. “I’m sorry to hear she passed, but that’s really sweet. What kind of stuff do you like to make?”

I shrug. “I’ll try anything, honestly, but most of what I end up doing is basic stuff like blankets and scarves. I tried making a pair of mittens for myself once when I was a kid, but it didn’t go very well. I ended up almost getting frostbite because I insisted on wearing them to school in the middle of the winter, but I had no idea what I was doing with the measurements so there were a ton of gaps and holes in them.”

Hannah chuckles. “Aw, that’s kind of cute.”

“The frostbite?” I ask, and she laughs.

“No, I meant making your own mittens and wearing them even though you probably shouldn’t have. Sounds like you’ve always been headstrong.”

I smile at her. “Yeah, and trust me, my parents loved that about me. But what can I say? I don’t take no for an answer.”

Hannah laughs and looks at me playfully. “I’ve noticed.”

We sit staring into each other’s eyes with all of this unspoken tension swirling between us. I don’t really know where we’re at, where this is going, or what she thinks of me, but I know I like being around her and I’m not going to give that up—even if her dad is my coach. This could all blow up in my face, and I know that, but for some reason I’m not worried about it.

There’s something about her that makes the risk seem worth it.

And I’m glad we got this chance to spend a little time together away from everyone else to talk because I feel like I’m finally getting to see who she really is. She’s been distant since we ran into each other again in the locker room a few weeks ago, and I guess I don’t blame her for that since her dad probably would go nuclear if he found out about us doing anything other than yoga together. But I hope as we spend more time together, she’ll see that she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

And that I can keep secrets.

“I’m working on a scarf with the Aces logo on it for my mom right now.”

“That’s cute. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“I don’t know. I make a lot of stuff for her and she’s running out of room for it all.”

“Sounds like you two are close,” Hannah says and takes another sip of her whiskey.

“Yeah, very. What about you and your folks? Seems like you and your dad are close from what I’ve seen.” Hannah sets her glass down and regards me for a second like she’s weighing how much she wants to share. “Don’t worry, I’m not fishing for info. I’m just genuinely curious. Like I said, I want to get to know you more.”

Hannah finally nods. “We’re pretty close, yeah. They’ve always supported me.”

“That’s great. But it must be weird having such a famous guy for a dad,” I say, but Hannah shrugs.

“It was harder when I was younger, but I’m used to it now. And he’s not that famous. It’s not like we get stopped on the street or recognized in public all the time or anything.”

“Hannah!” someone shouts from across the bar, breaking the moment and immediately disproving what she just said.

Her gaze whips to the front of the bar as some brown-haired, clean-cut looking guy in a pristine light blue polo shirt comes strolling over to her like they’re best friends. But she doesn’t look happy to see him, and something protective stirs in my chest when I see the way she almost instantly tenses as he stops at our booth.

He smiles at her with practiced charm. “I thought I might find you here after class.”

“Hi, Aaron,” she says flatly as the guy stands staring down at us in the booth, but she won’t look him in the eyes. His gaze darts between the two of us and suspicion flashes on his face, and after a beat, Hannah jumps to explain. “This is Declan. He’s a new player on the Aces. I’m giving him yoga lessons.”

“Oh, so you’re the new rookie I’ve been hearing so much about, huh?”

---