Page 4 of Broken Hearts
The rest of the team has finished practicing and exits the ice, and she steps off behind them. When she realizes I haven’t followed, she glances back for an answer.
“No. I think I’ll stay for a little while longer.”
An amused smile pulls up the corners of my friend’s mouth, and she frees her long, blue hair from the ponytail. “Does Coach know you’re staying?”
“I’m fine.” I check my heart rate on my watch. “I just want to work on the spin at the end of my short program.”
“A girl can’t live on skating alone.” She combs through her hair with her fingers.
“There’s half of a sandwich and some mini pretzels in my bag.”
“I was talking about boys and alcohol. In excess. Come on, we have three weeks to prepare for the Desert Cup, and your spin is already perfect.”
“See you in the morning,” I call over my shoulder as I push off and glide away.
By the time I make it around the oval-shaped rink, she’s left with the rest of the team.Finally,I’m all alone.
I leave out my earbuds and enjoy the sound of my skates moving along the ice. Closing my eyes briefly, I let all my senses absorb this moment. Even the echo throughout the arena as people go in and out of doors is a welcome sound.
College is a hard place to find any solitude. And ice time is difficult to come by. I’m soaking it up and really appreciating it when I realize I’m not completely alone.
Rhett Rauthruss, one of the Valley U hockey players, sits in the first row near the tunnel to the boy’s locker room. Leaned back and slumped down in the seat, he’s dressed in a gray T-shirt and black athletic pants instead of the full pads and gear the hockey team usually wears. One skate crossed over the other, eyes closed. The rest of the team is nowhere in sight. I skate around twice more before I stop in front of him.
His dark blond hair falls over one side of his face, and his chest lifts with deep, even breaths. I grab the hockey stick resting near his feet and poke him with it.
Nothing. Maybe he’s dead.
“Are you alive?” I ask.
The rise and fall of his chest continues in a slow and steady rhythm. Okay, not dead.
While I contemplate how to handle the situation, I take in his features. Full, pouty lips, big, straight nose, and an angular jaw.
I’ve never been this close to him. While I often cross paths with the hockey team since we practice in the same building and share the ice, I’ve never met this particular hockey player. Some of his teammates, yes, but I don’t know much about Rhett, aside from his name and now how handsome he is when he’s sleeping.
“Hello?” I try again to get his attention. He’s the only thing standing in the way of an hour of ice time with no one watching.
His brows pull together just a fraction, but otherwise, he doesn’t move.
“Hey!” I shout and give him a harder poke with the stick still in my hands.
He startles. Piercing blue-gray eyes snap to mine, but he’s slow to sit up. His shoulders hitch, and his back arches as he looks around the empty rink. “You’re the second girl to wake me up today by screaming.”
When he stands, I hand him his stick and skate backward. “I didn’t scream. I raised my voice to get your attention.”To get you the hell out of my space. Rarely do I get the ice to myself, and he’s ruining it. Also, I resent the implication that somehow I’m at fault here. This is my time.
“Yeah, well, at least I wasn’t naked this time.” His lips fall into a thin line, and he looks embarrassed by his confession like maybe he didn’t mean to share that with a stranger. He comes onto the ice. He’s tall, and standing in front of me he seems much bigger than he did sitting down.
“I’m not done skating. I have the ice for another hour.”
“You woke me up to tell me I can’t skate?” He pulls one of the hockey nets into place and drops a few pucks onto the ice. “I checked the schedule. There was nothing after four.”
“Technically, that’s correct, but no one ever comes in late on Sunday afternoons.”
“Technically, that’s not correct. I did today.” He smiles like he knows he’s got me. He does, but I’m still not ready to give up the fight.
I want all the voices to hush—external and internal. And for that, I need peace and quiet.
“I need to go through my routine without any distractions. I have a show in three weeks.”
