Page 3 of No Rhyme or Roughing (The Golden Guardians Hockey Hearts #1)

CHAPTER THREE

SYDNEY

Shaken didn’t begin to explain how I felt when I finally arrived at the arena for the second period. Who crashes their car and just runs?

Apparently, Ryder Cassidy does.

I used to watch him play for the Cleveland Monsters on my laptop in my dorm room at The Ohio State University. I even went to Nationwide Arena to see his first NHL game in Columbus. I was eighteen.

He’d only ever had a few games there, but I could still remember it like it was yesterday—the grace in his game, the way he stopped at center ice during a commercial break and turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. He’d made it. He was there .

Teddy hadn’t told me Ryder had also signed with the Guardians. To be fair, I’d lost track of him over the last few years. Life had gotten busy. I’d almost forgotten he existed.

Almost.

Now, it was all rushing back—memories of sitting in the basement of Dad’s summer cabin, where he’d had synthetic ice installed, watching Ryder wrestle for pucks with Teddy and our sisters.

At eight, trying to skate after the boys and falling so hard, I bruised my tailbone.

That was the end of my skating career, but what mattered was that teenage Ryder had carried me all the way to the car.

I remembered watching him and Teddy leave for Michigan State when I was ten.

That girl had no idea that the next time she’d see Ryder—the first boy to make her heart skip—would be over their busted cars when she was twenty-four. Of course, he hadn’t recognized me.

Back then, I’d just been the little girl always trying to follow the boys, begging to skip dance classes so I could go to their hockey practices.

I found my sad little seat in the sad little arena.

I wasn’t surprised that there wasn’t a single other soul in my row.

Last time I’d visited Teddy years ago, it had been the same.

The crowd was so quiet you could hear the players yelling at each other on the ice.

The music played, but it felt out of place with so few people to hear it.

And then, they were there. Ryder and Teddy flying down the ice like they’d never left each other, never gone in different directions. Tic. Tac. Toe. The puck zipped from one to the other before landing on the stick of a third, who swiped it toward the net.

Saved.

“Dammit,” I muttered—or tried to. Instead, I kept my frustration to myself, as usual.

“Don’t fucking shoot right at his chest!” a voice behind me bellowed.

The woman two rows down turned to scowl at what I now realized was a giant golden retriever. She gestured to the little boy sitting beside her.

“You’re at a hockey game,” the dog replied, shaking its oversized head. “Oh, drat. You nonviolent sportsmen missed the netty net.”

If the dog’s eyebrows weren’t sewn in place, I imagined one of them would be arched in mock disdain.

The woman huffed, shuffling her son out of the row toward another half-empty section. I covered a laugh with a cough. That wasn’t supposed to be funny.

The dog turned to me. “Umm… hello there.” Its oversized head wobbled precariously, and it gripped the rail to move further down the steps. All I could do was watch as it tried not to fall, its awkward fluffy tail snagging on a seat.

I knew this was the Guardians’ mascot, but it hit differently when confronted up close with its permanently outstretched tongue and enormous brown eyes. Honestly, it looked a bit demented.

Its arms shot up, tugging at the head. It stumbled, and I jumped to steady it. “We don’t need any fallen dogs.”

That earned a muffled laugh before the head finally came off, revealing a tiny red-headed woman with giant green eyes and a wide grin.

“Whew, it’s hot in there.”

“Oh, thank God.” I put a hand to my chest. “I thought I was talking to a dog.”

She laughed again. “Seems like we have an audience.” She pointed toward the ice, where I now realized there was a stoppage in play. My brother stood at the boards, pounding on the glass and glaring up at me.

Oops. Probably should’ve told him I was in town. “He just thinks I’m going to embarrass him.” I ignored his stony glare, focusing on the redhead—and the golden retriever tail that hadn’t stopped wagging.

She caught me looking. “Oh, it’s mechanical. I’m like a robot, except cooler.”

And dorkier. But I liked her.

She pushed thick glasses up her nose. “I should, uh, probably get back to… you know… entertaining the masses.” She gestured to the mostly empty section. Lifting the head again, she paused. “I saw you sitting here alone, looking like you wanted to scream.”

“I didn’t… I don’t…” I stumbled, words tripping over themselves. Talking to people had never been one of my better talents—at least not unless it was for work, where I could hide behind a professional mask.

No one cares.

Tell us how you really feel.

I’d learned long ago no one really wanted to hear what I had to say.

“Yeah, well, I wanted to meet you. Most of the people who come here are the hand-sitter type. These guys could use more fans cheering for them, even if it’s not out loud.” With that, she shoved the head back on, wobbled, and bounded up the stairs two at a time.

I plopped back into my seat and watched as a new line hopped over the boards. But it wasn’t until Ryder was back on the ice that I fully tuned in again, tracking his every deke, the way he seemed to float across the rink with his long, steady stride.

If only he knew what hitting on me after the accident had done—how it fulfilled a lifelong daydream that he’d return even an ounce of my crush.

Now, I could move on.

They lost. It wasn’t much of a surprise, but I still felt for my brother and his team. It hadn’t even been a close game.

Seven to two, with some guy named Keaton O’Connor scoring both goals.

Teddy’s gesture to me after the final horn left no room for question; he wanted me to meet him down by the locker room.

I milled around the concrete underbelly of the arena, surrounded by the family and friends of the other players. A few tried to engage me, but I wasn’t one for small talk.

The heavy door leading to the hall where the locker rooms were opened, and out walked the redhead I’d met earlier.

Without her dog costume, she looked even smaller.

Clad in leggings, an oversized sweatshirt that read “Put me in solitary,” and those same thick glasses, she was so adorable I wanted to put her in my pocket and take her home.

Well, to Teddy’s home.

I’d never done well making friends, but I wanted to change. Maybe this time in the Bay Area could be different from the last.

I hurried forward, stepping in line with her as she headed for the exit. “Hi.”

Hi? What was this, first grade? How did one make a friend?

She stopped, her high laughter echoing off the stone pillars. “You’re the girl Valentine couldn’t stop glaring at while we talked.”

“Oh, he’s just mad I didn’t call before coming.”

One brow lifted.

I pointed to myself. “Sister.”

“Ah, okay. Well, Valentine’s sister… can I help you with something?” She looked toward the exit and then back at me.

“No. I mean… I don’t identify by my brother. Name my is Sydney.” I cringed. “My name is Sydney.” How could I date a rock star and lead entire rooms of people in dance steps, but when it came to small talk, I was a mess?

She bit her lip, studying me. “You don’t do this much, do you?”

“Do what?”

“Talk to people.”

“Oh, not unless I’m forced.” My face heated. Did I really just say that? Shit.

“Well, awkward Sydney, I’m Shai Walton, Golden Guardian extraordinaire. ”

“Shouldn’t a guardian be a knight? Or at least a more aggressive dog?”

Her laugh was soft. “Welcome to the Golden Gate Guardians. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

She was still laughing when she reached the door to leave.

Something hard slammed into me from behind, and then I was in the air, my feet dangling as the world spun around me. “Can’t breathe,” I wheezed dramatically, trying to break the hold on me.

My feet finally hit solid ground, and I turned, punching my brother in the stomach. “What is wrong with you?”

He dodged out of the way of another attack. “She’s home, ladies and gentlemen. She’s really home.”

“Shut up.” I reached for him and tried to cover his mouth, but he bit my hand and backed away. It had always been this way with us—easy and a little violent. There was no one else who brought out this side of me.

“Ew, gross, you slimed me.” Wiping it on my pants, I couldn’t help smiling.

He’d stopped now, his chest heaving as he grinned at me.

Our family hadn’t always been the most stable.

Dad hadn’t been a part of it in years, Mom lived in denial, and Stas and Kristen, our older sisters, pretended the rest of us didn’t exist.

But Teddy. Oh, Teddy. He was my person. The only one I would turn to when I needed a reset, like now.

Tears dampened my cheeks, and then solid arms pulled me into them. Warmth, comfort, and safety. Acceptance. Teddy was the only person who loved all of me.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.” I sniffled. It all came out of me in more tears. The weird situation with Jameson. Coming home. The accident.

His chuckle vibrated through me. “Maybe because you haven’t been back in years, and you’ve missed my face.”

He pulled away and looped an arm over my shoulder. “Where are you staying?”

“I was planning to find a random guy and trade lodging for se?—”

“My ears! Stop right now.”

I pinched him. “Only kidding. You have spare rooms, right?”

“Nah, roommates, remember?” He looked back over his shoulder. “Ry! Look who it is. Our Sydy has returned to us.”

Ryder’s gaze burned into me, heating the back of my neck, but I didn’t turn.

“Sydy,” he said, low and a little growly.

When I was a kid, I’d called myself Sydy, unable to say my full name. They never let me forget it. But now, it felt different.

Teddy squeezed me tighter to his side. “You okay with the couch?”

I nodded. I was okay with whatever put me back into his orbit. And if Ryder happened to be just down the hall, well, worse things had happened.