Page 6 of The Fake Date Agreement

Reid mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like hockey and the Terminator.

“What did you say?” I pause my practice.

He raises his voice. “I said you’re like a hockey Terminator machine. Dial it back already. You can make the shot. I’d like to go home.”

“Nothing is stopping you.”

“Something is.” He taps another five pucks my way. “The thought of you half frozen to death as you pleadedagain.”

I lift my eyebrow.

“It’s not dramatic if it could actually happen. You are training too hard.”

“There’s no such thing.” I slam the puck in the back of the net to drown out the memory of Coach McIntyre, who we all call Coach, saying the exact same thing.

So did Terrell Andersen, our physio, when I went to see him about muscles so tight I was hobbling.

And Zach Palinsky, our trainer, when he found me hitting the gym at six o’clock on a Sunday morning.

But the big game is coming, and nothing is more important than being the captain who leads the Wolverines to victory. The last time that happened was seventy years ago.

This year is ours. Not only because all three of us are seniors, and we graduate at the end of this semester, but I feel it in my bones.

Javier sticks his hand in his pocket, pulling out his cell phone with a sigh. “She texted me again.”

Reid has the patience of a saint, which is why he’s the one passing me the pucks. Javier Duarte, aka Casanova, the right wing, saves his patience for the girls. Two pucks and he was done. On the ice, he’s as hungry to score as I am.

Reid shakes his head. “I told you to flush that phone down the toilet, Jay. Get a new one with a new number. Let her do whatever the fuck she dumped you for with the vet.”

“Doctor,” Javier corrects him, tucking the phone in his pocket. “She has a thing about doctors.”

I slam the puck into the overflowing goal.

It goes in like it’s supposed to. Every time except the one time I needed it to, it goes in.

So why the fuck did I miss?

“Maybe she heard about you being drafted,” I say, drawn into their conversation when I told myself I would stay out of it.

We’re all being drafted when we finish up our last semester. Not sure where we’ll end up. No one gets a say in where they go. You get drafted, and you go.

Javier’s ex has done everything but show up, and the way she’s been texting the guy, it’s only a matter of time before he walks in to find her in his bed. We’re Division 1 athletes, which means we’re busy. If we’re not in the gym, we’re at class, and if we’re not in class, we’re here practicing on the ice. The one place we’re rarely in is our dorm.

“She doesn’t care about hockey. Thinks all athletes stink of sweat.”

“Ah.” Reid nods firmly. “She heard about the money. She wants a bigger engagement ring than you got her before.”

“Well, she’ll be waiting forever. I am not…” Javier’s voice tails off as he squints at the fire exit. “I think you’re right. Thereisa strange noise.”

“It’s just a cleaner,” I say.

“Nope.” Reid walks away. “They left an hour ago, you know, back when we were on our first bag of pucks. Might not have heard them with the way you were growling at me. I’m checking it out.”

“Maybe this place is haunted,” Javier says thoughtfully. “Might explain Cap missing an easy shot.”

“It wasn’t that easy,” I snarl.

A smile stretches across Javier’s face, and I kick myself for letting him provoke me. “Dude, you are one of the best players I have ever seen. You need to loosen up. It’s not usually this easy to rile you.”

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