Page 29 of My Lucky Charm

Thankfully, Dallas seems unfazed. He and the rest of the guys on the team go back to what they were doing, and I get up and march off in the same direction as Gray.

I don’t know my way around, but I follow the tunnel off the ice into a hallway. I know if I look like I’m supposed to be here, I’m less likely to get questioned. I make sure my lanyard is visible and channel my inner Raya.

I can see Gray up ahead, and just before he pushes open the door to what I assume is the locker room, I call his name.

He stops and turns, sees me, and it’s like his whole body rolls its eyes. I’m pretty sure my mere existence is on his last nerve.

“Hey,” I say.

“What? What now?”

For a split second I try to decide how to approach this, and instead of having a long debate, I just pick a direction and leap.

“Look, I know you’ve got a chip on your shoulder, and you’re mad at the world . . .”

“You do, huh?” He sighs and shakes his head.

“. . . though I honestly don’t understand why, considering your life seems to be pretty charmed—”

He cuts me off. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I stop. He’s right.

“You’re right. I don’t. Why don’t you make me understand, then?”

He scoffs and turns toward the door.

I blurt, “This is exactly why you have the reputation you have.”

That stops him.

He turns to me, leans in, and says, “This. Isn’t. Your. Job.” He starts to walk away again, and I instinctively grab his arm.

“Gray. Wait.”

He stops, then looks at my hand. I pull it away and soften, seeing something like angst flash behind his turquoise eyes. “I’m sorry.” I take a step back. “I just—” I shake my head and turn.

To my shock, he says, “You just what?”

I turn back. I check his tone. It’s not angry. It’s not even annoyed. It’s almost like he wants to know what I think. Or maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself. Maybe I was right, and this really isn’t who Gray wants to be. Maybe he just needs permission to be kind.

Still, I won’t bully him into it. That’s not who I am, and frankly, I’ve never been a fan of tough love. So, instead, I draw in a breath and force myself to smile. “Are you okay?”

He frowns and looks over my head. It was stupid to ask. What’s he going to do, pull me into the corner and tell me his feelings?

“I just . . . think this is important,” I say as kindly as I can. “The kids? On the ice? For the team and for them. Especially for them. And going out there, teaching them how to do things, just showing up . . . it’ll go a long way. I mean, you’re their hero.”

He stiffens suddenly and grabs the door. Something hit a nerve.

I’m certain the next words out of his mouth will be “You’re fired.” But instead, he levels my gaze and says, “Yeah, well, you know what they say—”

I frown.

“Never meet your heroes.”

And with that, he slams the door behind him.

Chapter Eight

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