Page 88 of Puck Love

I pulled my gloves off and cast a wary glance between Mason and the bubbly blond reporter with a microphone in her hand. Her frozen smile had a steely edge to it that indicated she wasn’t going anywhere until she got her story.

Mason quirked his brow, an amused grin playing at the corner of his sexy mouth. “We survived camp. Hashtag No Shiny Jackets.”

“Ha. Ha.” I rolled my eyes for the camera. “This camp means a lot to Elmwood and the hockey community at large, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re both proud to be part of it.”

“Does that mean you’ve put aside your differences? Or can we expect some fireworks in the coming season?” Cindy asked.

What a weird question.

Trinsky looked equally amused. “You can definitely expect fireworks. Jake and I will never stop being competitors. We’ll push and fight like we always have, and hopefully bring out the best in each other. That’s what life is all about. That’s what hockey’s all about.”

I nodded my agreement. “Yeah, what he said.”

“Well, you sound like you’ve become real friends. Is that true?”

My heart thundered uncomfortably in my chest as I peered at Trinsky. “Yes.”

My voice cracked, but I doubted Cindy noticed. She’d gotten her sound bite. The story would end with her. Two hot-headed hockey players had put aside their differences for the future generation, raising money and awareness like a couple of upstanding citizens.

Mason brushed his pinky along mine. And there was nothing more to say.

27

JAKE

Dad and Smitty’s huge yard was perfect for hosting events. C’est Bon had catered a beautiful buffet and had sponsored two bars and a dessert table with towering cakes and pastries. Music hummed in the background under lively conversation and laughter. The party was off to a raucous start.

My mom danced with Charlotte and Ella under the fairy lights, a dozen tough-looking hockey players huddled near the dessert table sharing their favorite camp moments while another group tossed a football around.

It was the kind of wholesome, feel-good fun I loved, yet I felt as if I were floating above the surface. There, but not really present.

Trinsky and I stayed close all night. If he was hungry, I followed him to the buffet. If I was thirsty, he joined me at the bar or grabbed something for both of us while I waited nearby. We chatted with friends and colleagues about campers, told stories, and laughed at jokes aimed our way. The dysfunctional duo, they called us. We didn’t mind.

It wasn’t true, and we knew it. Just as we knew the minutes were ticking by. There were bags to pack and planes to catch.

As much as I loved everyone, I wished we had the night to ourselves. We didn’t, so I pasted a smile on and did my best to stay engaged and spend time with the people who mattered most: Vinnie and Nolan, MK and Ronnie, JC and Riley, Court and Ivan, Hank and Denny, Mom and Eric, and of course, Smitty…and Dad.

“It’s always so bittersweet, isn’t it?” Dad shook the ice in his glass and sidled next to me. “End of summer, beginning of a new season. I can remember the first time you put on skates. It doesn’t seem that long ago, but time really does fly.”

“Yeah.” If my mask slipped an inch, my normally observant dad didn’t notice and that was okay by me.

Or maybe he did. Dad followed my gaze and gestured at Mason. “I heard you’ve made peace with your former foe. I’m glad. I like that kid.”

“He’s hardly a kid, Dad.”

Why was my face suddenly on fire?

“Neither are you,” he said, his voice modulated for a tone reserved for heartfelt moments.

I didn’t feel worthy of his praise, though. I was keeping a pretty important secret from the person who’d literally sacrificed everything for me, and I was struggling with the weight of impending loss. If my father went sappy on me, I might fucking break down, and that would be difficult to explain to the sixty-plus people here.

“Dad, I?—”

“I’m proud of you, Jake.” Too late. “You’ve worked hard and accomplished so much. You’re a wonderful role model to your brother and sisters, and I hope you know how much we all love you.”

Gulp.

“I do,” I whispered. “I love you too.”