Page 28 of The Pucks We Freeze
“Yeah,” I muttered, watching Gavin glide off with a grimace. “That’s not his ribs.”
Owen joined us in the circle, voice low. “I saw it too. He hesitated on both faceoffs as well. Either he’s nursing something… or he wants us to believe he is.”
We all knew what that meant. And we all knew better than to say it out loud, not yet.
Gavin must’ve sensed it anyway. He caught me watching. His jaw flexed like he wanted to say something, but didn’t. That silence, more than anything, made my gut tighten.
Either he’d back off now that he knew we were watching…
Or he’d double down.
And if he went the second route, if he was involved in something bigger than he could control, I wasn’t sure who’d pay the price first.
After practice, I stripped off my gear fast, the locker room noise blurring in the background. My body was running on fumes, but my brain wouldn’t slow down. The second the shower hit my back, hot water rolling down my spine, all I could think about was Willow.
It’s no different from any other day since she’s been back. Even when I’ve tried not to.
I tried to focus on Gavin’s stalling drills, the way he kept faking pain like a script he couldn’t quite commit to. But the images bled together—the weight in Willow’s stare across the dinner table, the sound of her laughter in my head, and the way her hand felt when it brushed mine too long under the kitchen light.
By the time I got back to the hockey house, the night had turned cold. Stars scattered the sky, flickering behind bare trees. I moved through the house on autopilot—grabbing a change of clothes, pretending not to notice how quiet it had gotten. Rowdy’s music was off. Owen’s door was shut.
And still, I couldn’t sit still.
I pulled out my phone.
Me: You awake?
It took a minute before the bubble appeared, signaling that she was typing a response.
Willow: Barely. Long day. Why?
Me: I miss you.
Willow: You saw me yesterday.
Me: Doesn’t count. I want to see you now.
Willow: You know you’re not supposed to stay here.
Me: Who says I need to follow the rules?
Willow: Your mom. My dad. Literally everyone who wants your head on straight and focused on hockey.
Me: I’ll be quiet. Scout’s honor.
Willow: Were you even a Scout? You don’t seem like one.
Me: No. But I’m loyal and true to my word.
I stared at the screen, her typing bubble blinking in and out. I wasn’t sure what I was hoping she’d say. Maybe nothing. Or maybe everything.
I just wanted more time with her, and I was running out of it.
Even if what we have doesn’t last. Even if it was temporary. Even if this whole thing, whatever this was, ended the second she packed her bags and left Rixton.
I still wanted more.
More of her nights. More of her heart-aching looks. More chances to memorize the way she smiled when she didn’t think I was watching.
