Page 32 of Ice Cold, Red Hot (Coldwater Firehawks Hockey #1)

Two months later - Chicago

“You were practically in my lap the whole time,” Nat complained as we sat in the back of a taxi from O’Hare.

“Middle seat gets both arm rests. Everyone knows that. It’s an unspoken rule of air travel, right Moreno?” Griff leaned past Nat to address the question to me.

I was too giddy to get in the middle of whatever spat they were having now.

Nat and Griff had been spending a lot of time together, but I wasn’t sure exactly what was going on.

Nat was keeping quiet, and every time I saw them together, they bickered like brother and sister.

“Sure,” I said, watching the city slide by outside.

“I can’t wait to see Renshaw play,” Griff said. “Maybe I’ll pick up some pro tips from him.”

“He’s been at camp a couple months,” Nat said. “I don’t know how much he can really have learned so soon. ”

“He’s been killing himself,” I told them. “I think he’ll be great.”

“You’re supposed to think that. You’re his girlfriend,” Griff said. “But you’re probably right.”

Nat sighed, and I wondered for the tenth time if it was a mistake asking her to come. She’d been distracted and irritable lately, and I worried that I’d been too wrapped up in my own happiness to be a good friend to her.

When we arrived at the Storm arena and checked in, excitement was pounding through me.

I’d never been a big sports fan, but Shepherd’s phone calls and visits had made his enthusiasm and excitement rub off on me.

This was the real deal and it was a huge opportunity for him. I was nervous and proud all at once.

“So…” Nat said, a question in her voice. “Think he’ll get much playing time?”

“It’s a pre-season scrimmage,” Griff explained. “So they’ll play a lot of the younger guys, get them some ice time before the season starts. Hopefully that’ll include Shepherd.”

A few minutes later, the announcer came over the PA. “Welcome to the Chicago Storm development camp scrimmage with the Toronto Tritons!”

Even though it was just a scrimmage, the crowd was huge, and they exploded as the first group of Storm players took the ice. These guys looked huge—bigger than the college players, and so much more fierce.

I scanned each group of players, listening for Shepherd’s name, and finally heard it as he came out, the blue and black Storm jersey stretched across his pads. “Shepherd Renshaw, number 27! ”

Griff, Nat, and I jumped to our feet, screaming, and Shepherd looked up. He skated close and tapped his stick on the boards, acknowledging us as his eyes found mine for a brief moment.

And then the game started.

Shepherd played well, and pride swelled in my chest every time he touched the puck.

He glided across the ice with that same effortless power I remembered from Coldwater, cutting past defenders like they weren’t even there.

When he stole the puck mid-play and threaded a perfect pass to his teammate, I caught myself holding my breath.

And when he ripped a shot that rang off the post and into the net, the sound of the puck hitting metal echoed through the arena like a promise.

I was laser focused on him, but as the scrimmage wore on, I realized there was another group cheering for Shepherd just a few seats down. I leaned forward, trying to get a look at them, when one of them stood to cheer.

Blake—Shepherd’s brother. And at his side were Shepherd’s parents, restrained and quiet.

Their reticence stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the group—five or six huge men at Blake’s side.

I realized they must be his teammates. Blake had come out to support his brother and brought half the NHL with him.

I couldn’t help scowling at Darren, who sat with his arms crossed and a frown on his stern face.

I didn’t like him, and wasn’t sure I ever would.

He didn’t support his son the way I thought a father should.

But Blake’s enthusiasm and that of his teammates almost made up for it.

I hoped that my own support could fill in the voids.

Still, Shepherd’s dad had come. That was something, I guessed .

“I didn’t even offer it to you, you just took it,” Nat complained, breaking into my thoughts.

“You held it toward me,” Griff said. “It was an unspoken invite.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Kinda watery anyway,” he sniffed.

“I didn’t even offer it to you, I definitely don’t need your opinion on my beverage.” Nat was pissed. I looked at her and leaned in. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She pasted on a fake smile. “I’m fine. That one is just driving me insane.”

I glanced at Griff, who appeared oblivious. What the hell was going on?

When the scrimmage ended, we waited with Shepherd’s family.

Blake introduced us to his teammates, who kept up a steady banter that almost made up for the fact that his parents barely acknowledged us.

After what felt like a very long time, Shepherd finally appeared, freshly showered and beaming with a smile of pride that made him even more handsome.

I stood back, waiting while he spoke to his parents and his brother, and then his gaze shifted to me and he held out a hand.

“Mom, Dad,” he said, tugging me into his side. “I want you to meet Celeste. You’re going to be seeing a lot of her.”

Shepherd’s parents exchanged a look, and Blake gave me an enormous grin.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said.

“You too,” Mrs. Renshaw sniffed. Darren barely glanced at me, which just made Shepherd pull me in tighter.

“You were on fire out there, Ren,” Griff said. “You’re gonna kill it this season. ”

“You did great, little bro,” Blake agreed. “And with a support system like you have, you’ll do just fine in the league.” He nodded at me, Nat, and Griff as he said this.

“It takes a lot more than—” Darren began, but Shepherd’s mother interrupted him.

“Blake’s right. Shepherd’s got everything he needs to succeed. And I’m so glad our son has found such supportive and intelligent people to surround himself with.” She met my eye as she said this, sending me a tiny smile.

“Should we go find something to eat?” Blake asked the group. His teammates mumbled enthusiasm at this idea.

“Sounds like a plan,” Griff agreed.

As a group, we headed out and ended up at one of the diners near the arena. As we crowded around a booth, with Blake’s teammates in a booth next to us, Shepherd pulled me in tight.

“Thanks for being here.” His voice was warm in my ear, and I wished we were alone.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” I told him. “It was amazing to watch you play for the Storm. You looked so happy.”

He smiled at me then, his eyes alight. “I am,” he said. “And so much of it is because of you. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I can tell you that I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing my best to make you happy.”

I held his eyes, warmth blooming inside me. “You already do,” I said.

He kissed me then, with his family and our friends around us. And I knew right then that this moment was the beginning of the rest of my life .