Page 71 of The Fake Date Agreement

My dad was in and out of our lives growing up. Not because he had to work. Or notonlybecause he had to work.

I was twelve, and my little brother, Christian, was ten when Mom had enough of his affairs. Toronto was home, but Mom wasn’t happy there after the divorce. She needed her family around her, and Chris and I needed her. So we uprooted our lives and moved to the States.

Dad’s phone calls and visits started off regularly. He’d call every weekend, or we’d do something, then they petered out andstopped altogether. He could have a whole new family now, and none of us would have a clue.

I don’t have papers to write. I always do those as soon as I get them so they won’t distract me while I’m at practice or the gym. Coach has forbidden me from the gym, the rink, and the arena itself.

Sure, I could hit a gym in town, but can I really not go two days without working out? Our trainer always stresses that moderation and taking breaks are key—that injuries happen when we push too hard or don’t let our muscles recover.

Do I want to train so hard that I take myself out of the championship with an injury I could have avoided?

I walk away from the arena with no clue where I’m walking to.

Chapter 18

Tobie

After the awkwardnessof the last practice, I hadn’t wanted to come to watch the guys again. But if I’m here, the group of girls watching won’t ogle Reid, Javier, and Caleb again. At least, not so openly this time.

The same group of girls are back, giggling and pointing as they watch the guys on the ice.

Caleb is missing. I thought he might be late, but he never shows up.

When Reid and Javier skate over to me during a break, I ask them why.

“He finally pushed Coach into doing something about him practically living on the ice,” Javier explains.

“Two compulsory days off.” Reid pulls off his helmet and scratches his head. “He’s not allowed in the arena or the gym until he gets some rest.”

“Oh, should I see if he’s okay?” I curl my fingers into my palms so I’m not tempted to flatten Reid’s light brown hair sticking up.

Reid shakes his head as a guy skates over. “He’s going to be like a bear with a spike in his paw from being deprived of his practice time.”

The guy who is fast approaching is big, fair-skinned, with the palest green eyes I’ve ever seen, and the most perfectly sculpted cheekbones that make me wonder how he lucked out. And he does nothing to hide his curiosity about me. “Hey.”

I smile as he leans against the plexiglass. “Hey.”

He cocks his head as he studies me. “So, you’re seeing these two fools, eh?”

Another accent I can’t place. At least not at first. “Beau Ahern, the best left wing on the team.”

Reid bumps his shoulder. “That’ll be me, Irish.”

But Beau is still studying me, his head cocked slightly. “Which one do you like more?”

“Uh…”

We briefly discussed what we’d say if anyone asked how we met and decided to keep things simple.At the last hockey game, they were leaving the arena, and I’d gotten myself stranded, so they helped me get back to my dorm. At no point did we discuss any other questions people might have, like this one.

Beau’s smile is still openly curious. “You have to like one of them more. I’ll not ask if you like Caleb. He’s just grumpy enough to be third on your list.”

The volume has dropped in the arena, and it takes no stretch of the imagination to think everyone is doing their best to eavesdrop on our conversation.

Being the center of attention in some situations is fine. But when I’m surrounded by people who are from a different world than me, I always look to crawl somewhere and hide.

“I like them the same.”

His eyes crease. “It’s Pollyanna, isn’t it? It’s the floppy hair and puppy enthusiasm. All girls love the floppy hair.”

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