Page 6

Chapter 6

Hannah

I enter the arena with my heart pounding faster than it normally does here. The Aces are about to play their first game of the preseason, and I’ve always made an appearance to support my dad, but I really wrestled with whether I should come. As much as I didn’t want to have another charged run-in with Declan, I couldn’t think of a reason that wouldn’t make my father suspicious, so I decided to just suck it up and tough it out.

Still, as I make my way to my seat, the Aces stream out onto the ice to start their warmup and my stomach flutters at the thought of seeing Declan. We haven’t crossed paths since he chased after me a couple weeks ago, but I knew it would inevitably happen again at some point. I haven’t been able to get him—or what he said—out of my head.

As if he can sense me thinking about him, Declan sinks a practice shot and turns on the ice in a wide arc. His amber-flecked eyes sweep across the crowd like a bird of prey and land directly on me. Awareness zaps through me, an intense and physical sensation, and it feels like every vein in my body opens wide as adrenaline rushes through my limbs.

It’s not fair that one look from him still affects me this way. Not fair that in an arena full of people, he can find me instantly, as if there’s some invisible thread connecting us.

It’s hard, but I wrench my gaze away from his with my heart thudding in my chest and my breathing labored. Thankfully, I spot my mom in a seat right by the glass, so I make a beeline for her. My mom spots me on the way and smiles at me, which takes the edge off a little bit. She stands to hug me when I reach her side.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says with a wide smile as we part. Bracing her hands on my shoulders, she looks me over, frowning. “Are you okay? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine. It’s just first game jitters,” I cover, and she blinks in surprise.

“Since when do you get jitters? You’ve been watching these games since you were in pigtails,” she teases, and I force a laugh that I hope sounds natural.

“I know. I guess I just really want them to do well this season.”

She grins. “Don’t we all. But I know your father is feeling great about the team’s odds this year, especially after he snapped up that new rookie he won’t stop talking about. He’s convinced the kid is going to be a breakout star.”

My stomach swoops at the mention of Declan, but I do my best not to let it show on my face as I sit down next to her. “Really? That must be the new guy I saw in the locker room the other day,” I say vaguely.

“So you’ve met him?”

I shrug. “Sort of. I stopped by the arena a couple weeks ago to see Dad and noticed a new face in the locker room, but I didn’t talk to him or anything.”

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” she asks, nudging me with her elbow, and I choke on my next breath, disguising it as a small cough. This is the last thing I want to be talking about with her, especially given who we’re talking about.

“Oh, how are your classes going?” she asks, mercifully changing the subject but still making me wince inside.

Law school is no joke, and even though this semester just started, it’s really been kicking my ass. I feel like I’m already super far behind, but I’m not about to tell my mother any of that. I smile at her instead.

“It’s tough, but it’s going pretty well.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. What about yoga?”

“Amazing. I came right here from the studio after my last class. I can’t believe it, but it was totally full. They’ve all been selling out lately, actually. Patricia wants me to take on more classes,” I add with a grin. “She says my approach is really connecting with people.”

My mother nods. “It’s so wonderful that you have a side job like that to put yourself through school. And Patricia is lucky to have you!”

My smile dims slightly, even though I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. Yoga is so much more than just a “side job” to me, and hearing her call it that stings, but I keep it to myself as my mother picks up her purse.

“I’m going to hit the concession stand before the game starts,” she declares. “Do you want anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks.”

“Alright. Be right back.”

She leaves me in the stands, but I’m not alone for even a minute before I spot Declan skating across the ice, heading right for where I’m sitting. My heart hammers in my chest, getting faster as he gets closer. I don’t know what he’s planning, and I don’t know where my dad is, but I hope like hell that he isn’t seeing any of whatever is about to happen.

Declan slides to a stop on the other side of the glass and waves at me. “There you are. I thought you fell off the face of the earth or something,” he says with a smirk.

“Sort of. Law school is like a black hole,” I banter back, and he chuckles.

“A black hole that apparently still allows you time to teach yoga,” he says, and my eyes widen in surprise. He shrugs with a satisfied smile. “I might have done some research now that I know who you are.”

“Stalking me now?” I ask, trying to sound disapproving but feeling oddly flattered.

“Not stalking. Just… interested. There’s a difference,” he counters, his brown eyes gleaming. “So what are you doing here for a preseason game? Does this mean you couldn’t resist my magnetic pull?”

I snort, doing my best to suppress a smile. “I know you probably think the world revolves around you, but I didn’t come for you. I’m here for my dad.”

Declan grins at me, clearly not deterred. “I’m gonna be a big star, haven’t you heard? You know, you should probably get a signed puck from me now before they’re worth millions.”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I don’t need anything to remember you by.”

“Well, that’s good because I’m pretty sure I already gave you plenty to remember me by. Although I’d be happy to give you some new memories if you want.” He winks at me.

My breath catches in the back of my throat. I can’t believe he’s being so bold, or how much my body is reacting to his words, so all I can do is stare at him.

He laughs, skating a little closer to the glass as he adds, “I’ll make sure we score a goal, just for you.”

I roll my eyes. “Do you say that to all the women who come to your games?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Just the ones who’ve taken permanent residence in my mind for the last six months.” His voice drops lower, intimate despite the barrier of glass between us. The playfulness in his expression shifts to something that could probably melt the ice beneath his skates. “Just you, hummingbird.”

I go rigid in my seat. He sounded so sincere when he said it that it’s impossible to doubt he means it, and I don’t have a clue what to do with that information. Or if I should do anything at all with it. I scramble to think of some witty comeback, something to defuse the tension, but my mind has gone completely blank.

Declan holds my gaze for a moment longer, then skates off, and I stare after him, trying to get my pulse to go back to a normal rhythm. I’m so distracted that I barely notice my mother returning until she settles onto the seat beside me.

“I barely beat the line,” she declares, holding up a bucket of popcorn. I blink at her, hoping she didn’t see or hear any of my conversation with Declan just now. She had to have seen him skating away, so maybe she put two and two together that we were talking, but if she asks, I decide I’ll just tell her that the newest member of the Aces was introducing himself to me. Hopefully, she’ll buy that.

“Do you want any?” she asks, offering me the bucket, but my stomach is in knots, so I shake my head at her.

“No, thanks.”

She shrugs. “It’s low-calorie. It won’t ruin your yoga figure.”

I shoot her a sideways glance. “Maybe without the pound of butter you drizzled on it,” I tell her dryly, and she chuckles.

“You sound like your father. It doesn’t hurt to live a little every now and then, sweetheart.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes until the warmup ends. Cheers and applause fill the arena as the game finally gets underway, and when I glance at the Aces box looking for my father, I find Declan staring right at me instead.

He doesn’t smile or wave—just looks at me with such focused intensity that I feel it like a physical touch. In that moment, everyone else in the arena seems to fade away, and it’s just us, locked in a private exchange that no one else can see or understand.

I try to peel my gaze away from him, but he might as well be magnetic, just like he said.

Thankfully, I’m not the only one eyeing him. It’s a preseason game, but this is the first time any of the fans are going to see Declan on the ice with the Aces, and while there has definitely been a lot of buzz about him on all the sports forums, he still has a lot to prove. My dad has a reputation to maintain, especially after the team’s Cup win last season, and he doesn’t sign just anybody.

“Look, there’s the new guy,” my mother says, pointing at Declan with a piece of popcorn as he streaks out onto the ice with the rest of the team.

My father has him playing the defensive line, and I try to keep my gaze on everyone but Declan, but as the ref blasts his whistle and the players scatter, my eyes keep drifting to him.

I’ve watched countless hockey games, seen players come and go, but something about the way Declan moves on the ice is different. He has this fluid grace coupled with explosive power—like a predator conserving energy until the perfect moment to strike.

Every time we’ve talked since the end of the last season, my father has been going on and on about how everyone else in the league is going to be gunning for the Aces after their Cup win, and now I see exactly what he means. The Cincinnati Knights aren’t making things easy for the Aces, and while I don’t know too much about the visiting team, I know enough about hockey to see that they’re giving the Aces a run for their money.

The Knights center takes possession of the puck and breezes between Reese and Theo as they’re caught up with their counterparts on the Cincinnati team. The center is giving everything he’s got, flying across the ice with the puck swishing back and forth in front of him against his stick.

But Declan is on him, streaking from out of nowhere. He moves so quickly that I can barely keep track of him as he crosses the ice and closes the distance, and he catches the Knights center off guard too. The guy has to spin at the last second to avoid crashing right into Declan, but Declan takes advantage of the confusion and pokes the puck away. The crowd howls its approval as Theo scoops the puck up in the aftermath and starts pounding down the ice toward the goalie.

Declan tips his helmet cockily at the center he just intercepted. Although it looks like the guy is about to tackle him for it, he must think twice because he pivots and skates after the others. The horn blares a few seconds later, announcing a goal by Reese, and Declan glides back to the defensive line, crouched and ready to spring again if the players circle back his way after the reset.

The next several minutes are a grind, with both teams battling hard for control but unable to score. The Knights center seems determined to humiliate Declan after his interception at the start of the game, so he guns for him every chance he gets. Declan does his best to keep up with the guy, but he’s a little slow on his pivots, so the center gets the slip on him more than he should.

I find myself leaning forward, hands clenched tightly in my lap, willing Declan to adjust his strategy. My father’s voice echoes in my head from all the games I’ve watched with him.

Watch how they fail, then watch how they learn. That’s the mark of a great player.

But Declan catches on to the center’s tactics quickly and starts to correct for them. And in what is probably the most impressive play I think I’ve ever seen one of my dad’s players make, as the clock is ticking down in the game’s final minute, Declan bolts from the defensive line while Noah and the Knights center are fighting for the puck.

Theo’s in position to the right of the goal, unguarded and pacing impatiently while he waits for someone to give him an opportunity. A fight breaks out between Noah and his counterpart, and in the scuffle of flying gloves and helmets, Declan seizes the puck and sends it across the ice right to Theo, who’s already winding up for the shot before the puck even reaches him.

The puck swishes into the net just as the horn signals the end of the game, and the stands erupt. My mother and I both jump from our seats, shouting and spraying popcorn all over us both. When I glance back at the ice where the Aces have piled around Declan to pound on his helmet in celebration, his eyes dart to mine—so quickly that no one else would ever notice or think anything of it.

But I do.

And even as I celebrate with everyone else, I can’t help but feel like that look held a message meant only for me. The goal Declan assisted with wasn’t just for the team.

It was for me, just like he promised.