Page 31 of From Ice to Home (The Heart of a Ranger #1)

As I reach the locker room door, Harry’s voice reaches me.

“Just remember, you’re not just any player, you’re the star center of the New York Rangers.

Half this country breathes hockey, and your new wife…

” he pauses, catching my glare. “Fine, Hannah , is a breath of fresh air. Play their game for a bit and they’ll leave you alone.

No sense in fighting the inevitable, Walker. ”

Without another word, I walk into the locker room and drop my bag by my cubby. I pull my gear on as quickly as possible, keen to get on the ice and put this conversation behind me.

But before I head out to the rink, I quickly take a second to forward the article to Hannah.

I hesitate, staring at the screen, wondering how she’ll react when she reads it.

I haven’t read the whole thing, but the comment section is already blowing up, and knowing how ruthless some people can be, there’s bound to be a few nasty comments in the mix.

I just hope she’s prepared for it—or at least knows I’ll have her back no matter what.

Tucking my phone into my cubby, I grab my stick and my helmet and head to the rink. The familiar squeak of my skates digging into the rubber brings a sense of normalcy, but as I step onto the ice, the tension from earlier still lingers.

“Nice of you to join us, Walker!” Coach’s voice booms across the ice as I glide onto the rink.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Coach,” I shout back, flashing him a grin.

He snorts, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the clipboard in his hands.

Declan skates past me, a smirk plastered on his face. “Well, it’s about time, South,” he says, his green eyes dancing with humor. “Welcome to the land of the living.”

“I wasn’t even gone that long,” I toss back, skating across the ice and getting my stride. The chill bites at my cheeks and the rhythmic scrape of blades against the frozen surface feels like home.

“It felt like you missed conditioning yesterday,” Declan says, mockingly tapping his gloved finger against his chin. “Oh, wait, that’s because you did.”

I huff, flipping the puck onto my stick and taking off toward center ice. “I’d say I’m lucky.”

“Lucky?” He closes the gap, his stick darting forward in an attempt to block me. “I’d say it’s going to give me an edge in today’s drills.”

I grin, cutting around him with a sharp pivot. “Keep dreaming, Dec.”

With a quick flick of my wrist, I launch the puck toward the net. It hits the crossbar with a satisfying clang before dropping into the goal.

As I skate around, I catch Nikolai Petrov, our goalie, stepping into the crease. He adjusts his gloves and pulls his helmet down, his sharp eyes already tracking the puck.

“Don’t think you would’ve made that shot if Coach didn’t pull me away,” he grumbles, his russian accent thick, but clear.

I laugh, circling back toward him. “I missed you too, big guy.”

Niko settles into position, but his eyes stay glued to me. His gaze is intense and searching from behind the metal cage of his helmet. “So it’s true then?” he asks. “You got married?”

I nod, not breaking his gaze. “I did.”

“Hope you know what you’re doing,” he mutters before shooting the puck back my way as we reset our drill play.

I shake my head, chuckling softly. Weirdly protective in his own way, as always.

He’s been guarding more than just the net since he joined the Rangers two years ago, carrying baggage that would’ve broken most guys.

His messy divorce and fallout with his best friend still linger in the background and the media, though he never talks about it.

“Don’t worry about me, Niko,” I call out as I skate back to my spot. “Worry about stopping my next shot. ”

EJ skates up on my left, tapping his stick on the ice. “You left our line one man short, it’s not nearly as much fun with only two of us.”

“Don’t tell me you and Barney couldn’t manage without me,” I toss back as we get ready to run a 3-on-2 drill. I look toward my right where Wyatt Lindgren, the big kid from Minnesota, is getting into position as Mitch and Declan settle in as the defensive pair in front of Niko.

“I still don’t know how you did it,” Wyatt interjects with a frown. “I haven’t even committed to a car lease and here you went out and got yourself a whole wife.”

“A wife’s not going to improve your shot, kid,” Mitch says with a smile as he zeroes in on each of us. He’s our captain, a veteran with skills unlike anyone else on our team. He’s also the guy who’s been engaged for the past seven years. “You need focus.”

I smirk, deviating from the drill cycle, cutting Wyatt out and passing the puck to EJ instead.

“Wanna bet?” I ask.

My move forces Declan to switch to his weaker side as EJ circles around him before shooting the puck against the far wall, at just the right angle for Wyatt to pick it up. Mitch is on him in a second, forcing him to pass back to me in the middle, right in front of the crease.

There’s an opening in Niko’s defense and without wasting a second, I snap the puck up, spin, and fire it toward the top corner. Niko’s quick, blocking it with a quick flick of his glove, letting the puck drop to the ice before smirking behind his cage.

“Too slow, Walker,” Niko taunts, flicking the puck away.

I skate back to the line, a grin on my face. Declan watches me, his arms folded as he leans on his stick. “Looks like I was right,” he says, his Boston accent thick. “Niko’s got your number. ”

“He got lucky,” I say, tapping my stick on the ice, getting into position. “Next one’s net.”

“Walker, pick up the pace!” Coach yells from the side. “You’re not at the wedding anymore!”

The guys snicker, and I shake my head, digging my blade into the ice for another round. Whatever else is going on off the ice, doesn’t matter. This is where I belong, where I know what to expect.

I might have to figure out the rest. But this…this I can do with my eyes closed.