Page 5

Chapter five

Nate

T he second I step into the Acers facility, I know I’m not going to make it to my locker in peace.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” James calls across the room, grinning like he’s been waiting all morning to pounce.

“Good afternoon, lover boy,” Ethan adds, tossing a rolled-up towel at my chest. “How’s the party scene in Unit 1606?”

Mikey peeks around his stall. “You bring any leftover pizza or just romantic tension?”

I sigh and set my bag down. “You guys really need hobbies.”

Connor, already halfway into his pads, raises an eyebrow. “What’d I miss?”

“Nate, Ethan, Mikey, and I all hit up Nate's new neighbors' party last night,” James says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Spin the bottle was involved. So was scandal.”

Connor blinks. “Wait. Spin the bottle? Like… seventh-grade energy?”

“Yup,” Ethan says. “Only with adults and tequila.”

Alex, quiet in the corner, finally chimes in. “Did you win?”

I look at him. “I don’t think there was a winning option.”

James scoffs. “That kiss said otherwise.”

Parker walks in with a protein shake in one hand and Bessie’s latest drawing of a unicorn in the other. “Wait, wait…who kissed who?”

“Mandy,” Mikey supplies helpfully. “New neighbor. Law school. Also his ex’s little sister.”

Parker nearly chokes. “You kissed your ex’s sister at the party? That’s the familiar ‘someone’ you saw moving in? Keeping it in the family, huh?”

“Smartass,” I mutter. “It was a game.”

James: “A game that left the room silent for ten full seconds.”

Ethan: “And then Kira screaming, ‘I need ice!’”

Connor’s laughing now. “You’ve been here how long? Six months? And you’re already a legend in the building.”

Dillon leans over. “Do we need to get her a jersey?”

I roll my eyes. “Nothing happened.”

“That’s not what your face said afterward,” Mikey comments. “You looked like someone just rewrote your entire playbook.”

James nods. “I’ve seen you take slapshots with less intensity than that kiss.”

I open my mouth to reply, but Coach Stephens walks in. Saved by the coach.

Coach barks. “Focus up. Big game tonight. Let’s get on the ice and warm up.”

The teasing dies instantly. Sticks hit the floor. Laces tighten. Everyone locks in.

We hit the ice hard for practice with tight drills, high tempo. I’m paired with Dillon for the first rep. He’s fast, scrappy, and annoyingly chipper before noon.

“Still thinking about your neighbor?” he teases as we circle the cones.

“Still thinking about leaving you behind on this breakout,” I mutter.

Coach blows the whistle. “Faster transitions, let’s go!”

We run neutral zone reps and cycle coverage. I dial it in, pushing a little harder, skating a little tighter.

I catch Nina sitting on the bench with her notebook, watching like always.

After a round of corner battles, she waves me over as I grab water.

“Your stride’s tight,” she says, not looking up. “You okay? You look a little off like your timing’s lagging half a second.”

“I’m good. Just locking in.”

She finally meets my eyes. “Stay focused and breathe.”

I nod and head back to the line, but my pulse is still somewhere between her advice and last night’s kiss.

Because something about that moment with Mandy…short, public, and completely unexpected…is still humming just under my skin.

And it’s not going away.

***

I bounce on the balls of my feet, shifting my stick from one hand to the other as the announcer’s voice echoes above us.

“Acers fans… it’s game night!”

Connor’s tapping his gloves like a drumbeat against his thighs. Parker stretches one leg out and rolls his neck. James smacks Ethan’s helmet just because.

“Let’s light it up,” I mutter under my breath.

We step into the roar. Lights flashing. Crowd on their feet. I scan the boards during warm-ups and…there she is.

Mandy. Up in the lower bowl, just off-center ice. Her dark hair’s pulled back, and she’s holding a drink and food in her hands. Kira’s next to her, already cheering like it’s the playoffs.

They’re here.

Shit. Focus, man.

The puck drops hard in the first period. I crash into the game with energy, pinching the boards and throwing my weight into every check. Defense is tight. Puck movement’s sharp.

Dallas plays heavy, physical hockey. First ten minutes, I’m digging pucks out from the wall and slamming into their forwards like they insulted my mother.

“Stay wide!” I shout at Ethan as we rotate.

We strike first. James forces a turnover at the blue line, Parker picks it up and threads a slick pass to Connor flying down the wing. He dekes once, freezes the goalie, and backhands it five-hole. The place goes nuts.

But late in the first, Dallas buries a greasy one. It’s a rebound off the pad, scrambled in front, and their center taps it past Alex before we can clear the crease. The crowd boos. Coach curses. We tighten up.

We're still tied in the second period. The puck gets loose on a rebound at the other end and James snipes it top shelf. Bar down, crowd explodes.

He skates past our bench and points right at me. “That one’s for the law girl!”

The whole line erupts in laughter.

Coach is already growling. “Shut it down and reset!”

We do.

Midway through the period, though, Ethan takes a foolish penalty. Two-hander to the stick. Obvious. Loud.

He slinks into the box like a kid caught sneaking out.

James leans forward on the bench. “You play any dirtier, they’re going to name a penalty after you.”

Ethan flips his glove off dramatically. “I call it emotional forechecking.”

Mikey adds, “I call it dumb as hell.”

Ethan retorts, “Says the guy who got a delay of game for tossing a puck to a fan and missed the net.”

Mikey shrugs. “The fan ducked. That’s not on me.”

The third period rolls in with an Acer's one-goal lead. Dallas is hungry, buzzing the slot.

I take a high slapshot off the shoulder blocking a drive. It stings like hell, but I grit my teeth and skate through it.

Final two minutes, they pull their goalie.

We clear the puck deep into their zone to relieve pressure, standard play when they’ve pulled their goalie.

But they regroup fast, setting up in our end with clean passes.

They cycle the puck around the perimeter, forcing us to chase.

My legs burn as I pivot and track, sticking to my coverage like glue.

Ten seconds. Their winger winds up at the blue line and rips a shot that’s clean, fast, and high. I step into the shooting lane, absorb it square in the shoulder with a grunt, pain lancing down my arm. The puck deflects off me and drops loose in the slot.

“Clear it!” I bark, voice ragged.

Ethan swoops in, snags the puck, and rifles it down the ice.

“Clear, clear, clear!” he yells like a war cry, grinning through the cage as he skates past the bench.

Final buzzer.

Acers win.

The arena erupts. Gloves fly. Sticks slam the ice.

I glance toward the stands again.

She’s on her feet, hands clapping, a smile stretching across her face.

And even through the glass, the noise, and the sweat, I feel it.

Something new.

Something I didn’t know I was skating straight into.

And it’s wearing a Detroit hoodie and the most dangerous smile I’ve seen in a long time.

***

The locker room explodes like a champagne cork.

Music blares. Towels snap. Someone’s already sprayed half a water bottle across the ceiling.

James spins in a circle with his arms wide. “That’s how you send a message!”

Parker tosses a roll of tape at him. “That celebration was embarrassing. You looked like you were summoning pigeons.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Dad.”

Ethan’s peeling off his pads and drops into his stall like a movie star exiting stage left. “I’d like to thank the academy and also Nate’s shoulder, for taking that slapshot like a champ.”

I grunt and rotate my arm. It aches, but in a satisfying, earned-it kind of way.

“You good?” Mikey asks.

“Still standing,” I reply.

Connor slaps my back. “Hell of a block, man. You dropped like a brick wall.”

James winks. “Yeah, well, the real highlight was Mandy cheering him on like he just proposed mid-game.”

I shake my head, grabbing a towel. “You’re impossible.”

“Just observant.”

He tosses me a protein bar like it’s a mic drop. “Tell her I’m available if you blow it.”

I smirk. “You couldn’t handle her brain for five seconds.”

“Oof,” Mikey winces. “Straight to the IQ burn. Love to see it.”

Ethan leans forward. “So you are into her.”

I pause just long enough.

“I didn’t say that.”

(Which, of course, means I totally did.)

The guys erupt like middle schoolers who just heard a dirty word.

“HE LIKES HER,” James sings at full volume.

Parker laughs so hard he almost knocks over his water.

Ethan says, “Come on, we all saw her. Law girl was giving major eyes.”

“Kira was cool too. She called me 'the cute one'. Smart girl.” Mikey chimes in. "But, Ethan, she had you marked like a shot chart.”

Ethan grins. “She said I tasted like spearmint and sin. Her words.”

James fake gags. “Please. I just ate a snack.”

Connor points with his Gatorade. “I’m sorry, did you say tasted ?”

“Spin the bottle,” Ethan says smugly.

“Oh, right,” Dillon adds. “The ‘innocent’ party that somehow included you making out with the neighbor’s roommate.”

“She spun. I followed the rules.”

Parker shakes his head. “This team has no off switch.”

Connor smirks and turns to James. "Speaking of off switch, what’s going on with your love life, Casanova?”

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you. Last week it was the yoga instructor. Week before that, wasn’t there a pastry chef?”

James shrugs like he’s giving a press conference. “All in the name of research. I like carbs and flexibility.”

Connor groans. “You’re the reason our team HR exists.”

“I am team HR,” James fires back. “Hot and Reckless, baby. HR at your service.”

I snort. “More like Hopeless and Ridiculous.”

The guys lose it, towels flying, someone pounding the bench like it’s overtime.

Coach blows his whistle, but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Good team win,” he says. “Enjoy it. Recover fast. We go again Tuesday.”

“Will do, Coach,” someone says.

I finish unlacing my skates, leaning back against the cool wall.

We won. I did my job. We held the line.

But the truth is, I spent most of the game glancing toward the stands.

Watching her.

That smile. That laugh. That spark.

I told myself this season was about proving myself on the ice.

But tonight, she was the only thing I wanted to win.