Page 7 of No Shot (The Toronto Tundra #2)

Cami elbows me with a knowing smirk, and I snap out of my trance quickly enough to spot the one player I do actually recognize, Scott, approaching.

Kaia immediately squeals with joy, frantically wiggling in Cami ’ s arms to get closer.

My sister props her up on the tiny ledge of the boards, and Kaia immediately smushes her face into the glass.

I manage to grab my phone just in time to snap a quick pic of Kaia ’ s “ Dada” jersey, two tiny palms banging on the glass, and Scott ’ s hands on the other side, blowing her a kiss. It ’ s beyond precious.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch wash-board abs skate closer to us and—oh, fuck off. A cocky smirk breaks out under his helmet and I realize I ’ ve been caught staring. I hate that I can now recognize his stupid face.

Penn stops right in front of us. He then proceeds to spray the glass with his water bottle before wiping it down with the corner of his jersey, showing off his six-pack again.

He finishes off this absolutely needless act with a wink directed right at me.

I refuse to fluff this man ’ s ego, so all I do in response is scowl, which only makes him smile wider.

“ He ’ s really sweet, you know,” Mia whispers into my ear as Penn skates off. “ Cute too.”

“ Who is?” I reply, trying my best to come off unbothered.

“ Penn. I ’ ve been getting to know him a lot more over the past couple months—he ’ s a super lovable goofball. Jack grew up with him, said he ’ s kind of always been like that.”

“ Hmm, that ’ s nice.” Mia laughs at my vague reply.

“ I ’ m guessing you ’ re not into the nice guys?”

“ Nice guys can be, uh, nice, but I ’ m just not into him, I guess.

” I hope she ’ ll drop the topic, because as I say the words, my eyes follow Penn as he charges forward and slaps the puck right into the net.

If I were into him, which I ’ m not, I ’ m sure that would have been hot.

It definitely did not make my my vagina flutter seeing him in his element like that.

So in control, so skilled, so dominating.

“ Uh,” I clear my throat. “ So, which one is Jack?”

Immediately, Mia ’ s entire face lights up, and I know I ’ m in the clear.

She scans the ice before stopping and pointing at one of the bigger guys stretching.

To her credit, it was not one of ice sluts from earlier.

When the guy looks up and spots Mia, a shy smile peeks under his helmet, and he heads over to us.

Mia and Jack lock eyes. The exchange feels oddly powerful, like I ’ m interrupting an intimate moment.

He mouths ‘ I love you ’ before tapping a gloved fist to the glass and skating back to his original spot.

I ’ m pretty sure they ’ ve been together for a while now, but you wouldn ’ t know from the way her cheeks turned bright red from that simple gesture. It ’ s nauseatingly adorable.

“ You guys are sweet,” I say to Mia as we make our way to our seats.

“ Sometimes I can ’ t believe it ’ s real.” She flushes, staring down at her feet for a moment. “ I feel so lucky to be with him.” It ’ s a touching sentiment, but she should know her worth as well.

“ Hmm, looks to me like he ’ s the lucky one.”

“ You ’ re kind,” she replies with a polite smile. “ You and your sister are a lot alike.”

As she continues ahead, I ’ m left somewhat dumbfounded by such a loaded statement.

Sure, biologically we ’ re similar on some weird relative-molecular level, but that ’ s where the resemblance stops.

Ying and Yang as they say. I ’ m an early riser, she ’ s a night owl.

She ’ s soft and friendly, I ’ m spunky and stand-offish.

She ’ s given up her dreams and put her happiness aside for a man and I—well, I ’ d be damned if I ever did that.

She ’ s the one everyone always liked growing up.

The sweet, bubbly girl next door, while I was the stressed-out, overachieving recluse.

She ’ s so lovable, and I ’ m—too focused on my future to dwell on trivial comparisons.

The point is, no matter how different we are, it works for us.

We don ’ t understand each other, but she ’ s my sister, and I love her.

When we finally make it to our seats, most of the arena is packed with fans.

I have to admit, I ’ ve never considered myself to be a sports gal, but this is kind of…

fun? I mean, sure, it ’ s nearly impossible to track the puck as it moves across the ice, and I generally have no clue what ’ s going on, but music blasts every time play is stopped, and it ’ s exciting cheering with the girls when someone scores.

The Tundra have been absolutely crushing it. According to the hockey experts sitting next to me, it was a shut-out, which means the other team didn ’ t score and we won 3-0. I ’ m super competitive and rarely half-ass anything, so I ’ d be lying if I said I didn ’ t get into it a little.

I even shouted at the ref a few times. Don ’ t get me wrong, I have no idea why we were screaming, but my FOMO was strong, and I love questioning authority when the opportunity arises. I can ’ t say I ’ ll be at every game from now on, but I may not put up as much of a fuss next time.

“ Well, that was surprisingly exhilarating,” I say to the girls as I collect my beer glass from the cup holder ahead of me. Did I mention there were snacks and alcohol? All in all, not a bad night.

“ It ’ s fun, right?” Cami mentions as she carefully stands carrying a sleeping Kaia. “ Alright, ladies, we still down for a few celebratory drinks?”

I should definitely call it a night. But even the thought of going home right now is enough for the pang in my gut to resurface.

I don ’ t want to be left to my own thoughts. My apartment is too quiet, and if I leave now, I ’ m just going to lie awake all night with my heart racing and my mind cycling through worst-case scenarios until sunrise. It ’ s a quiz, not a crisis, but it doesn ’ t matter. The worry comes regardless.

It ’ s exhausting, but by now, it ’ s routine. I ’ m used to the way it creeps in and settles heavy in my body—something I ’ ve just learned to live with.

A little liquid distraction would probably do me some good.

“ Let ’ s do it,” I say, following the girls out.