Page 3 of Grumpy Darling

“Yeah, uh, that’s right,” Elliot replied, swallowing visibly as he did his best to look anywhere but directly into my eyes. “Unforgettable, in fact.”

I took a few slow, strong steps toward him, and he instinctively shrunk back against his locker. The rest of the room was silent, as though all the other players were holding their breath, waiting to see what I’d do next.

While Reed and Parker weren’t nearly as frightening as they could appear, I often wondered if my bad reputation was justified. As the team’s most ruthless defenseman, it was my job to intimidate the opposition as much as possible, and people struggled to forget that, even when I stepped off the ice. I did little to try changing their opinion. I wasn’t exactly approachable, and often wore a dark expression that Paige referred to as my “resting storm face.” It caused most people to keep their distance. But that was fine by me.

“It won’t happen again.” Elliot’s voice was quaking slightly, and I almost felt bad. I didn’t want to scare him too much. The team still needed a goalie after all.

“Good.” There was no need to say anything more. Elliot was already cowering enough, and the incident would probably sprout a new rumor about me anyway. I held my gaze on him for a few seconds, just to make him sweat a little longer, but then turned and continued to my locker. I felt the whole room exhale as I did.

When I reached my locker, I slowly lowered myself onto the bench next to Reed. For the first time since the game, I allowed myself a moment to give in to the aches and pains rampaging through my body, especially my knee. It had been a tough contest today, and I’d had to work hard to hide how much my knee was hurting. How was I going to get through the whole season feeling like this? I wasn’t even sure I’d make it to next week, let alone signing day.

“How’s your knee?” Reed asked quietly, nodding to where I was tightly gripping my leg.

“Fine.” I quickly moved my hand away.

Reed’s eyes were filled with worry. “You’d tell me if it was giving you trouble again, wouldn’t you?”

“Like I said, it’s fine.”

“If you say so,” my brother replied, though he appeared far from convinced.

“I do.”

His lips pulled at the sides as he considered me. “So, Paige’s cooking—was today a special occasion?”

“She’s baking at the moment,” I said. “You know how she likes to try everything.”

“Ah, the list.” Reed was one of the few people who knew about it. “I think I preferred it when she was trying to learn the bagpipes.”

I shuddered at the memory. She’d made sounds I didn’t think were possible, and I was sure she’d hit notes that only dogs could hear. My ears were still ringing.

“At least loud noises can’t kill you,” Reed added.

“Maybe your stomach needs to harden up.” Not even my brother was allowed to insult Paige.

“Oh, is that why she fed us cement mix?”

I scowled at him, but he only smirked in reply.

“Maybe she’s a secret spy working for the Sunshine Hills Saints,” Matt said, leaning forward to join our conversation from the other side of Reed. “And she’s trying to take us all out.”

“Not Paige,” Reed said. “She loves hockey. Have you seen the way she cheers for us at games?”

“Cheers for us?” Matt said. “Or one of us?”

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and caught him grinning at me. It was obvious what he was getting at, but he decided to spell it out anyway.

“Seriously, Grayson. Are you ever going to make a move on her?” Matt really was feeling brave today.

“We’re just friends,” I replied through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, but can’t you change that?” Matt glanced at Reed as though he was looking for backup. And while my brother was eyeing me like he wholly agreed with his friend, he thankfully kept his mouth shut. He’d given up trying to change my mind about Paige a long time ago.

“Don’t you want to be more?” Matt prodded.

What I wanted was for this line of questioning to end. I could barely admit how I felt about Paige to myself, let alone to anyone else. And those feelings needed to remain buried within me, hidden so deep I could pretend they didn’t exist. I was practically an expert at that now. I’d been doing it since the first time she’d smiled my way in second grade.

She was the first person to truly see me as more than a talented hockey player. If it weren’t for my skills with a puck, I often wondered whether anyone would even know I existed. I wasn’t a natural leader like Reed, or outgoing like Parker. But I never felt invisible when I was around Paige.