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Blake

My face is throbbing but we beat the Blizzard 3-2, with me putting in the game-winning goal. It’s not a good feeling—it’s fucking great. This is what I’m here to do, and despite the injury in the first period, I managed to put myself on the proverbial map. Coach Vanek seemed inordinately pleased, and my teammates were effusive in their congratulations.

But now that the game is over, I’ve showered, and we’re on the bus heading back to the hotel, I realize I’m starving.

“Who wants to go eat?” I call out. “I’m freakin’ hungry.”

“I could eat,” Connor says, sitting up straighter.

“We’re in Anchorage,” Gabe points out. “I don’t know what’s open this late.”

“It’s Anchorage, not the Arctic Circle,” Coach Vanek says. “I’m sure you boys can find food.”

“I’m in,” Chandler calls out.

A few voices join him, and I glance in Rowan’s direction. She’s doing something on her phone, completely ignoring us.

Bodi seems to be watching me and arches one brow curiously. I don’t dare say or do anything overt—he’ll never let it go—so I turn away as if I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“You coming with us, Rowan?” he yells out. “I owe you a beer for how well you took care of Blakey.”

She glances up. “Oh…I don’t know. It’s late.”

“But we have to eat.” I’m surprised when Bristol chimes in. “I’ll go if you go.”

“All right.” Rowan nods and goes back to whatever she was doing.

But why do I care?

She can do whatever she wants.

It has nothing to do with me.

Except I can’t help but note the delightful curve of her ass as she gets up when the bus pulls to a stop. Or the way her ponytail bobs back and forth as she walks.

“You’ve got it bad, dude.” Bodi nudges me.

“Shut up,” I mutter, glaring at him.

“You’ve got a hard-on for Ro?” Connor stares at me. “For real?”

I roll my eyes. “I definitely do not have a hard-on for her.”

“How come?” Chandler asks, joining us. “She’s awesome. I mean, I have a girlfriend, but Ro is smart, beautiful, and a great trainer. Why wouldn’t you like her?”

I groan.

This is the last thing I need.

Not only am I trying to focus on hockey, Rowan probably doesn’t want our ugly past spread around the team. Hell, I don’t want that to get around either.

“They were high school sweethearts,” Bodi pipes up, grinning.

“ Dude . Would you shut the fuck up?” I give him a dirty look.

“What?” He laughs. “It was a million years ago. I’m just busting your balls.”

“You and Ro?” Connor looks dubious. “She’s way too hot for you.”

I flip him the bird. “Thanks a lot, dickhead.”

He laughs. “Hey, I’m kidding. You seen my girlfriend? She’s way out of my league but she likes me anyway.” He opens his phone and shows me a picture of a gorgeous brunette with curly hair and green eyes. Jesus, she’s hot. What the hell does she see in a kid like Connor?

“I thought you guys were friends with benefits?” Chandler asks Connor.

He shrugs. “Sometimes we are, other times we’re more. Right now, we’re more.”

“Rowan and I broke up nearly a decade ago,” I say. “Ancient history.”

“She dump you?” Chandler asks.

“I was an ass back then. Of course she dumped me.”

We all laugh.

“So you were hittin’ it with Rowan in high school?” Warren asks.

Christ, I’m going to kick Bodi’s ass for this.

“Hey.” I turn to him. “We were together for close to four years. I wasn’t hittin’ anything. She was my girlfriend, not some hookup. We were teenagers and it didn’t work out, but don’t talk about her like that. Especially not now that we all work together. That’s not cool. Use a little common sense, dude.”

Warren is momentarily quiet. “Yeah. Sorry, man. I didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just hot, so I said something stupid. Thinking with my little head instead of my big one.”

“Well, don’t. It’s unprofessional.”

Look at me, acting like I’m some kind of grown-up.

“Could we not bring this up again?” I ask after a moment. “Seriously. All I care about is helping the Phantoms win a championship. Me and Rowan are ancient history. It’s not gossip or whatever.”

Thankfully, they seem to get it and let it drop as we head to the elevators.

“Okay, everyone who’s going to dinner meet in the lobby in fifteen,” Chandler says. “Gabe is looking for a place that’s open that can take all of us.”

“See you then.”

We get into multiple elevators, and when it’s just Bodi and me, I give him a pointed look. “Dude, what the fuck ?”

“Are you really mad about me spilling the beans about you and Rowan?” He looks genuinely surprised. “I thought everything was cool.”

“Everything is awkward as fuck ,” I grind out. “And I’m willing to bet she’s going to be pissed if this gets back to her.”

“But it happened,” he protests. “It’s not some malicious lie… Is it a secret ?”

“I don’t know that it’s a secret, but apparently, she has a no fraternization clause in her contract, so this could impact her career. Which wouldn’t be cool at all.”

He studies my face carefully for what feels like a long time.

“You care about her,” he says in surprise.

I scowl. “I don’t know if I care about her,” I protest. “But I definitely don’t want to get her into trouble at her job. And frankly, she works here full-time—I’m basically a glorified and well-paid sub. So there’s no reason for me to make waves. I just want to play hockey. Okay? You know shit because you’re my best friend, but I need you to keep shit like that to yourself going forward. Please?”

He lifts his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “Sorry, man. I didn’t think it was a big deal. I honestly didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t want to get her into trouble, I just wanted to bust your balls.”

“Consider them busted.” I head for my room. “See you downstairs in fifteen.”

It’s a relatively small group that heads out to eat. Me, Bodi, Connor, Chandler, Canyon, Bristol, Rowan, and one of the equipment managers. Gabe found us a restaurant but bowed out, saying Harper was tired and he wanted to stay with her. So our group walked four blocks to the restaurant and got a table in the back.

It’s a steakhouse with an Argentinian flair, and it smells amazing.

My stomach growls with excitement, and I order the biggest steak they have.

Rowan is sitting at the other end of the table, deep in conversation with Bristol and Donnie, the assistant equipment manager.

It’s probably safer this way, with her as far away from me as possible.

Except… I like her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes glitter when she’s happy.

Which is why it’s better if she’s on the other side of the table.

The farther away the better.

“Are we toasting tonight’s win?” Bodi asks, lifting his glass of wine.

“You guys suck,” Connor mutters, lifting his glass of ice water since he’s not old enough to drink.

“It’s okay, kid—you’ll be twenty-one before you know it.” I nod in his direction, lifting my wine glass.

“To the playoffs,” Chandler says.

“And friends,” Connor adds.

“And ex-girlfriends!” Donnie grins broadly. “How cool is it that Blake and Rowan dated in high school?”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

I shoot a glare in Bodi’s direction, but he looks just as surprised as me.

And Rowan looks absolutely furious.

“You did?” Bristol turns to her in surprise.

Rowan gives me a narrow-eyed glare, but then her face morphs into what I call her professional face, and she shrugs.

“It ended a decade ago. We were fifteen when we met. Not a big deal, you guys.”

“Oh.” Donnie almost looks disappointed. “I heard it was more recent.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Rowan responds, her eyes drifting to mine again, and there’s no mistaking the annoyance in hers.

Then she turns back to Bristol and they’re talking quietly, so I have no idea how mad she is. She handled it like it was no big deal, so conversation has moved to other topics, but I still feel bad.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

One minute I can’t wait to get away from her, the next I just want to smooth things over.

Being around her is like being in a constant state of emotional whiplash, and that’s probably my fault.

It wasn’t like that in high school.

She was sweet.

Funny.

Helpful.

We could talk for hours.

Except… was she really just humoring me back then? Listening to me talk about hockey because she wanted to make me happy?

That bums me out.

My memories of those times are all wonderful.

Even that awkward-as-hell first time we made love.

I still jerk off thinking about it sometimes, because it was that good. That exciting. She wanted to try everything, long before either of us knew what we were doing.

Had she been faking that too? Just like she faked interest in hockey?

And had I been so self-absorbed that I honestly hadn’t noticed?

I surreptitiously peek over at her and a wave of nostalgia hits me.

She’s laughing, genuinely having a good time talking to Bristol, and I suddenly wish she would laugh like that for me. With me.

I need to apologize and clear the air.

That’s all there is to it.

And then maybe, just maybe, this tightness in my chest every time I’m around her will go away.