Page 153 of Check & Chase
“His left knee’s bothering him,” I murmur, professional instincts overriding emotional distance. “He’s not pushing off with full power on that side.”
“You can tell that from the TV?”
“I spent months rehabbing that knee. I know exactly how it moves when it’s compromised.”
She gives me a sidelong look loaded with meaning. “And you’re just going to leave town knowing he’s playing injured?”
“He has a new PT now,” I say, the words sharp with defensiveness I don’t quite understand. “Mr. Richards is perfectly capable.”
“But he isn’t you.”
I don’t respond, eyes fixed on the screen where Chase has just missed a pass, allowing the Orcas to transition quickly. His mistake leads directly to the first goal against the Bears, and the cameras catch his frustrated expression as he skates back to the bench with shoulders hunched in defeat.
“He’s distracted.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” Maya mutters.
Watching him struggle feels fundamentally wrong, like witnessing something sacred being diminished. The Chase Mitchell I fell for was filled with fire and confidence and an unstoppable drive. This version—hesitant, making uncharacteristic errors—is a shadow of that man.
As the second period begins, Maya’s phone begins to ring. She checks the caller ID and frowns. “It’s your brother. Hey, Ice Capades, what’s up?”
“Is Emma with you?” Jackson asks, his voice tight with irritation that carries clearly through the speaker.
“I’m here. What’s wrong?”
“Are you watching the Bears game?”
“Yes… why?”
“Because Mitchell’s playing like he’s never seen ice before. And the rumor mill says it’s because of your breakup.”
I stiffen, old defenses snapping into place. “That’s not my problem.”
“It is when half the league is talking about it,” Jackson counters. “Including my new teammates, who are wondering if bringing you on is going to create unnecessary drama.”
“There won’t be any. Chase and I are over.”
“Then why is he scanning the stands every chance he gets like he’s looking for someone?”
I glance at the TV where, sure enough, Chase is on the bench, his gaze sweeping the crowd with unmistakable purpose. The cameras have caught it multiple times now.
“I can’t control what he does.”
“No, but you can clear the air before you start with the Wolves. Coach Willis is already nervous about the media attention. Sort it, Em.”
After he hangs up, Maya and I sit in silence. My mind races between indignation at Jackson’s presumption and the uncomfortable awareness that he has a point. If Chase’s performance continues to be linked to our breakup in the media, it could cast a shadow over my fresh start.
“You should go to the game,” Maya suggests suddenly.
“What?”
“Go to the arena. Right now. You could be there for the third period.”
“That’s crazy. The game’s already half over.”
“Exactly, which means you’ll miss the worst traffic. And don’t you want to see the Bears win one last time in person?”
“Maya…” I begin, but she’s already reaching for my jacket.
