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Chapter Ten

Logan

T he ice feels different today. Too hard under my skates. Too slick. Like it’s trying to trip me up on purpose.

Or maybe it’s just me.

Coach’s whistle pierces through the arena, sharp and pissed off like always. “Kane! Where the hell is your head today?”

I grunt and circle back into the drill, forcing my focus on the puck. I can feel his glare burning a hole in the back of my head.

The guys are weaving in and out of cones, passing the puck with professional accuracy. Except me. I keep fumbling it like a goddamn rookie, my stick handling sloppy, my timing off.

I barely notice when the puck skips over my blade again, ricocheting off the boards with a loud clatter.

Coach Brody blows the whistle again, and I know it’s directed at me. Fuck .

I can hear Ryder snickering before he even skates up to me. “You’ve been staring at nothing for ten minutes. Did a certain coffee shop owner give you decaf this morning?”

I level a glare at him, which should be enough to shut him up. But Ryder’s like a goddamn terrier… once he’s latched onto something, he doesn’t let go.

He skates backward in front of me, not even bothering to follow the drill anymore. I shove past him, ignoring his laugh. But my shoulders are tense, jaw clenched so tight it aches.

Since when does one kiss turn me into a distracted mess?

Since Emma Carter pressed her lips against mine, tasted like vanilla and something so fucking sweet I can't wait to do it again.

Connor slides in next to me, sending Ryder a glare as Coach sets up the next drill.

“Leave him alone,” he mutters. Then, quieter, to me, “You good, man?”

I grunt. Which I guess could be interpreted as a yes or a no. Connor seems to take it as both.

But it’s not just practice that’s off. It’s me.

My head’s stuck on a loop of last night. All of it.

The way Emma laughed as we talked, how her eyes lit up when I talked about Finland. How she looked at me like she was seeing something more than just the brutal enforcer everyone else sees.

My mind’s still there. Stuck in that moment when she looked up at me, lips swollen from my kiss, snow catching in her hair.

“Kane!” Coach's voice snaps me back to the rink.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. Coach’s arms are crossed, face a thundercloud.

Next drill starts, and I line up next to Connor. He bumps my shoulder lightly, giving me a reassuring nod.

Ryder skates by, smirking. “Must be some good coffee if it’s got you hitting like a rookie.”

“Shut up before I rearrange your face,” I mutter.

But even in the next drill, my thoughts go right back to Emma. How she whispered goodnight like she didn’t want to let me go. How she looked in that sweater, my sweater… the one that's way too big on her and wraps her sexy fucking body in my smell.

Jesus, I’m pathetic.

Coach finally blows the whistle to end practice, barking something about focus and commitment before stomping off the ice.

The guys start peeling away, stretching out and chatting about post-practice plans today.

My legs feel heavy as I skate to the bench, tugging off my gloves and swiping sweat from my forehead. I can hear the guys still talking, laughing about the morning drills.

I’m not part of it. Don’t want to be today.

My mind’s still in that moment outside Chapter & Grind. How close I came to saying something stupid. Something like, “ Let's go inside. ”

I didn’t. Thank God.

She's not ready for what I'll do to her when I finally get my hands on those perfectly shaped hips and sweet, plump ass.

Eventually, I follow the guys off the ice, the heavy weight in my chest not shifting. Maybe it’s because I’m not used to this... wanting someone this much. It’s messing with my head. And my game.

The locker room’s full of noise. The guys are razzing each other up as always, the crack of towels against bare skin, the clatter of gear as it gets tossed into bags.

I drop onto the wooden bench in front of my locker, sweat still cooling on the back of my neck. My hands flex and release, but the tension that’s been coiling tight in my chest since practice doesn’t let up.

I reach for my phone in my locker, almost like my hands are moving without my brain’s permission.

One new text message.

My chest loosens just a fraction when I see who it’s from.

Emma.

" Hope practice went well! "

I can picture her saying it, probably with that tiny crinkle in her nose she gets when she’s trying to be polite but also knows I’m probably being an asshole to someone on the ice.

My thumb swipes to the next message.

"God, it's busy this morning! And your sweater still smells like you... is that weird to say?"

My lips twitch, and I shake my head. Goddamn adorable.

The next text comes in immediately after:

"Scratch that last text. Please pretend I'm normal."

A laugh rumbles in my chest before I can stop it. I glance around, hoping no one heard.

Ryder's still grinning like an idiot, despite Connor getting him a good crack with the perfect towel snap. He drops onto the bench opposite me.

Blake’s just finished stripping his pads, and he cocks his head, clearly noticing Ryder’s joyful mood. “So what’s with the goofy face, rookie? You finally score a goal in practice without tripping over your own skates?”

Ryder scoffs, but his ears turn pink. “Nah. Just... had a good morning. That’s all.”

Connor smirks. “A good morning, huh? Wouldn’t have anything to do with the vet assistant I saw hanging around before practice, would it?”

Ryder’s whole face lights up, and that’s all the ammo the guys need.

Blake snorts. “No way. Ryder actually managed to talk to Mia? And here I thought you just stared at her like a lovesick puppy whenever she’s around.”

Ryder bristles. “I wasn’t staring. I was—”

Connor cuts him off with a loud bark of laughter. “Right, right. You were just... observing her for research purposes. Making sure she’s qualified to work with puppies and kittens, huh?”

The whole room erupts into chuckles, and Ryder mutters something under his breath, tugging his shirt over his head.

I can’t help myself. A chance to get one back after all the shit he hands out?

“So what? Did you actually ask her out, or did you just stand there until she patted your head and gave you a treat?”

“She was just asking about the shelter fundraiser next week." Ryder bites back, suddenly on the defensive. "Wanted to know if I’d help set up.”

Blake smacks his shoulder as he passes by, heading for the showers. “And did you say yes, or did you just drool on her shoes like a good boy ?”

Ryder throws his towel at Blake’s retreating back. “I said yes, you assholes. Now drop it.”

I laugh as they all disappear into the showers, and I type out a quick reply to Emma before I do the same.

"Practice sucked. Missing my sweater. And maybe you, too."

I hit send before I can second guess it, shoving the phone back into my locker. My pulse is still a little faster than normal, and I’m not sure if it’s from practice or the way Emma’s texts make my head feel lighter.

I take a cold shower to clear my mind and get changed into fresh workout clothes. Connor claps me on the shoulder before heading off toward the gym for our next session.

I think about Emma again, and it hits me. Am I really thinking about more than hockey for the first time in... years?

The idea is terrifying.

But at the same time, it feels… right.

A slap of a towel against my shoulder brings me back to reality, and I realize Blake’s still there, one eyebrow raised.

“You coming to the gym, Kane?”

I hesitate. Normally, I’d jump at the chance to burn off some steam, but right now... I just want to get out of here.

“Yeah. Just need a minute,” I mumble.

Blake nods, like he’s got it all figured out, and heads off.

My phone vibrates again, and I pull it out to see another text from Emma.

"Don’t hate me, but I baked muffins again. I swear they’re not burnt this time."

A smirk tugs at my lips.

"I’ll be the judge of that," I text back.

I can’t help it. My mood lifts, and for the first time today, the tension in my chest loosens just a bit.

I push myself to my feet, stretching out the stiffness in my shoulders.

Yeah. I’ll hit the gym.

Maybe throw some weights around, clear my head. That should do the trick.

***

The players’ lounge is packed at the end of another grueling pre-season day.

The room is heavy with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and the spread laid out on the long, scarred wooden table.

An assortment of Gatorades in every color lines one end, while the other is piled high with protein bars, fresh fruit, and a platter of grilled chicken wraps drizzled with spicy aioli.

I settle into a spot near the back, grabbing an orange sports drinks and keeping my head low, my shoulders hunched.

After a long day of practice, I just want to get in, hear what Big Mike and Sophia have to say, and get out.

Then, finally, I'll be able to head to Emma’s.

Just thinking about her makes the knot in my chest loosen a bit. Her text from earlier still has me smiling like an idiot, but I can’t help it. It’s been a long time since someone made me feel like this.

“Alright, listen up!” Sophia calls from the front, tapping her tablet to bring up a screen on the wall. Big Mike stands next to her, looking at all of us with hearts for eyes. Now that's a man who lives for hockey.

“We’re midway through the community outreach program,” Sophia starts, her tone businesslike but upbeat. “And after the Fire Department's fundraiser, I’m happy to announce the current standings.”

The screen flickers to life, displaying a leaderboard. My eyes immediately zero in on the top spot.

Logan Kane & Chapter & Grind: 1st place.

Blake Maddox & Iron Ridge Youth Team Program - 2nd place.

Coach Brody & Iron Ridge Brewery: 3rd place.

Connor Walsh & Iron Ridge Fire Dept. - 4th place.

Ryder Scott & Iron Ridge Veterinary Clinic - 5th place.

Ryder groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I knew we should have gone with the pet photo booth. Everyone loves dogs in jerseys.”

I just take a sip of my Gatorade and blink, not quite believing it.

Sophia grins, clearly pleased. “The response to the promo video and the charity festival event has been overwhelmingly positive. Logan and Emma have racked up the most engagement by far.”

Blake whistles low, giving me a nudge. “Look at you, Mr. Community Ambassador. Who knew you had it in you?”

I just grunt in response, unable to fathom the idea that maybe, just maybe… I really can help Emma achieve her dreams of growing her brand.

Sophia continues, flipping to the next slide. “For the final task, we’re organizing an ‘ Arena Experience Day .’ The season opener is coming and each partnership will host a small event or activity at Icehawk Arena that showcases both your business and the Icehawks brand.”

She glances around the room.

“You have one week to plan it out. Creativity is key here. We want something that draws in the community to the stadium while giving fans a chance to connect with both the business and the team.”

Beside her, Greg the CFO mutters something about budget constraints, but Big Mike waves him off. “This program’s working, Greg. Stop your wining and let the players take some initiative.”

Sophia smiles. “We’ll send out more details later. Just remember… the partnership that makes the most impact wins exclusive access to the vacant arena space in the arena for a full year.”

I lean back against the wall, watching as the room erupts into excited chatter. Everyone's already brainstorming ideas, the competitive energy palpable. My mind drifts to what Emma would do with that arena space if we win.

Blake catches my eye from across the room.

He's been pushing for the youth program to get that space. He wants to turn it into some kind of mini training area where underprivileged kids can meet players before games, learn stick-handling techniques.

It's a good idea. I can't fault him for it.

Ryder mentioned Mia's been dreaming about a "Paws and Pucks" adoption center. Temporary home for rescue animals during game days, giving them visibility to potential adopters.

Connor and the fire department want to use it for safety demonstrations and fundraising. Coach and the brewery are planning some kind of tasting room.

But Emma's vision... that's the one I can't get out of my head.

My mind’s already spinning with ideas for the final task.

An event at the arena? What could we do to showcase Emma's vision not only for her coffee blends, but for Chapter and Grind too?

Something that ties coffee and hockey together… Maybe a ‘Brew and Shoot’ challenge? Customers try different blends and then take shots on net, getting a discount for each one they make.

A small smile pulls at my mouth. Yeah, that could work.

As players start filtering out, I stay put, trying to come up with a plan that’ll blow everyone else out of the water. Emma’s been working so hard on this. She damn well deserves that space.

But in amongst the excitement, I catch Big Mike and Greg talking quietly by the projector. They're bodies are closed off, like they're trying to protect their whispers that aren't quiet enough for me not to hear.

“Boston’s confirmed they're interested,” Mike says, his voice low but carrying just enough for me to pick up.

Greg adjusts his glasses. “Tampa called again too. They’re offering a second-round pick.”

My gut twists, and for a moment, I feel like I’ve taken a slap shot straight to the chest.

Are they talking trades?

I stand rooted to the spot, every muscle in my body tense.

At least they can’t be talking about me. I’ve been with Iron Ridge for five years. I’m the enforcer, the guy who takes the hits and makes space for the scorers. Why the hell would they trade me?

But… I mean… I am 32.

I know what that means in the professional hockey world. The league’s getting younger every year. It's managements job to be sourcing fresh blood.

My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to Emma.

"How's your day going?"

Her response comes almost immediately.

"Better now! Can’t stop thinking about last night..."

Almost immediately, a second message pops up:

"I mean the date! Not like... I'm not some kind of... you know what, just come over when you're done."

I laugh despite the knot in my gut. She’s so damn cute when she’s flustered.

"On my way. Can’t wait to see you."

The tension eases just a bit. I can’t think about trades or contracts right now. I need to see her. Be with her. Remind myself that there’s more to life than just hockey.

I pocket my phone and start toward the exit. I push through the door and step into the cold Iron Ridge evening, my thoughts racing.

What exactly would I do if I was traded? That would mean leaving this town. Leaving Emma.

I can’t even imagine it.

But the way my heart’s pounding, I know one thing for sure. I need to see her.

Now.

I take off toward Chapter & Grind, determined to hold on to the one thing in my life that finally feels right.