Page 66 of Check & Chase
“Nice jersey,” Tyler calls out, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Don’t remember you ever wearing mine.”
“You never let me. Besides, this one looks better on me,” I reply coolly.
His jaw tightens. “You’ve known Mitchell for what, a month? And you’re already playing the devoted girlfriend? Seems desperate, Em.”
The barb finds its mark, but I refuse to let him see he’s rattled me.
“Not as desperate as sending flowers to your ex five years after she caught you cheating. Move on, Tyler. I have.”
His expression darkens, but before he can respond, a voice calls from the bench. “West! Get your ass in here. Warm-up’s over.”
Tyler gives me one last hard look before skating away. I exhale slowly.
“Holy shit,” Maya breathes. “That was intense. You okay?”
“Fine. It’s actually liberating.”
“I bet. And look who noticed your little exchange.”
I follow her gaze to the bench, where Chase is now standing, eyes locked on me. When he sees me looking, a slow smile spreads across his face.
He lifts a hand, circling one finger in the universal gesture for “turn around.”
Heat floods my cheeks as I realize what he wants to see. I stand, slowly turning to show him his name across my back, the number nine large and bold for everyone to see.
When I face the ice again, Chase is smiling. He presses his hand to his heart, mouthing something that looks like “You’re killing me, Blondie.”
Maya snorts beside me. “Yeah, totally fake. No real feelings there at all.”
I sink back into my seat. “It’s for show. Part of the plan.”
But as the game gets underway and I find myself genuinely invested in every play, cheering for the Bears despite years of allegiance to my brother’s team, I have to wonder how much of this is still an act.
The Bears win 4-2, a solid victory that has the crowd on their feet. I find myself cheering just as loudly as the dedicated fans around us.
“Traitor,” Maya teases as we join the stream of people heading for the exits. “What would your brother say?”
“He’d disown me.”
My phone buzzes.
Chase:Meet me by the players’ exit? Security will let you through.
“Change of plans,” I tell Maya, showing her the message.
She rolls her eyes. “Go meet your man. I’ll wait for you. Maybe.” She’s already walking away. “Don’t have too much fun, Mrs. Mitchell!”
I make my way through the concourse toward the players’ exit, where security checks my ID before waving me through. The corridor is quiet compared to the public areas, though I can hear celebration from the locker room.
“There she is.”
I look up to find Chase approaching, still in his jersey. He’s leaning more heavily on his crutch than usual.
“Hey. Good game.”
“Better now,” he replies, his eyes dark as they rake over me in his jersey. “You wore it.”
“You asked me to.”
