Page 13

13

Breck

The final buzzer blares, echoing through Hunter's Hollow. We won, but it feels hollow. The scoreboard feels like it's mocking us—3-2. A far cry from yesterday's blowout against Riverton on their home turf. This time, we’re at our own rink, and the energy’s different. It should feel like a bigger victory, but all I can think about is how we barely scraped by.

I glide to center ice, my teammates' shoulders slumped as we halfheartedly bump gloves. Coach Barnes's face is thunderous. We'll be hearing about this later.

But then I see her.

Del.

She's here. She actually came.

I didn’t ask her to come. I didn’t want to risk her saying no. Now, seeing her sitting there in the stands, wearing our colors, it makes everything feel... right. The sting of the game fades away. Who cares about almost losing when the most beautiful girl in the world is here? In my corner. Wearing my colors.

My chest tightens and I resist the urge to rub at the sensation as the ache that spreads through me.It’s like a weight in my ribs, an intense, inexplicable pull that makes me want to reach out, to tell her how much it means. But I’m pretty sure that will scare her away.

Play it cool, Breck.

I can't stop the grin spreading across my face as I skate towards her, my eyes locked on those mesmerizing green orbs. She's perched next to Greer, looking like a fucking wet dream in jeans and a Hunters hockey sweatshirt.

I can't keep the grin off my face as I press my gloved hand to the glass, my heart racing faster than it did during the game. "Del! You came!" I call out, probably louder than necessary. Her green eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe.

Yep. Totally cool, Monroe.

Del's lips quirk up in a small smile. "I did."

God, even her voice is perfect. How is that fair?

"Yeah, but..." I trail off, suddenly unsure what to say. My mind races. Should I apologize for the crappy game? Thank her for coming? Ask her to marry me?

Okay, maybe not that last one. Yet.

Greer rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smirk. "Yeah, yeah, lover boy. We're here. Now what?"

I tear my gaze away from Del long enough to address Greer. "Take her down to the family hall, will you? I'll meet you there after I'm done with the team."

Del's brow furrows slightly. "Are you sure? We don't want to impose—"

"Trust me," I interrupt, "you're not imposing. I want you here."

Coach Barnes's booming voice cuts through the moment.

"Monroe! Locker room, now!"

I wince. "Duty calls.”

As I reluctantly skate away, I hear Greer mutter something that sounds suspiciously like "lovesick puppy" to Del. I pretend not to hear, but I can feel the heat creeping up my neck.

In the locker room, Coach Barnes's face is redder than a stoplight. "What the hell was that out there?" he bellows. "You boys think you can coast just because you beat Riverton yesterday? News flash: that's how you lose your edge!"

I try to focus on Coach's words, but my mind keeps drifting to Del waiting in the family hall. Is she impressed? Bored? Maybe coming was a mistake and—

"Monroe!" Coach's voice snaps me back to reality. "Care to join us, or are you too busy daydreaming about your girlfriend?"

The room erupts in a chorus of "ooohs" and wolf whistles. I feel my face burning as I stammer, "She's not my— we're just—"

Axel throws an arm around my shoulders. "Aw, look at him blush! Our little Brecky's all grown up and in love!"

"Shut up," I grumble, shoving him away. But I can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Because yeah, maybe I am falling. Maybe I’m already there. But that’s insane.

I've never showered and dressed so quickly in my life. My hair's still damp and my shirt's probably on backwards, but I don't care. I burst out of the locker room, my heart pounding like I'm back on the ice for a sudden death overtime.

And there she is.

Del's leaning against the wall, her blonde waves cascading over one shoulder. She's laughing at something Greer said, and the sound makes my stomach do a backflip. I slow down as I approach, suddenly unsure. Our hug at True Brew replays in my mind—the warmth of her body, the scent of her hair. God, she smelled like whipped honey and almond. But that was different, right? Impulsive. This is... what exactly?

I stop a few feet away, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Hey," I manage, my voice embarrassingly hoarse.

Del turns, her green eyes locking onto mine. "Hey yourself, hockey star."

Is it my imagination, or is there a hint of a blush on her cheeks?

"That was..." Del starts, then pauses, searching for words. "I've never seen anything like it. The way you move out there, it's... well, it's kind of beautiful, actually."

Now it's definitely my turn to blush. "Beautiful? Hockey?" I chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck. "I don't know about that. But I'm glad you enjoyed it. Your first game, right?"

Del nods, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "It was incredible. The energy, the crowd... I can see why you love it so much."

I want to tell her that right now, hockey's not the only thing I'm falling in love with. But that's way too much, way too soon.

"You were great out there," Del says, saving me from my spiraling thoughts.

I snort. "Hardly. We almost blew it."

"But you didn't," she points out. "That last-minute goal was impressive."

I feel my cheeks heat up. Did she really notice that? "Oh, uh, thanks. It was mostly luck, honestly."

"I don't believe in luck," Del says, her gaze intense. "Only skill and hard work."

I swallow hard. Is it hot in here, or is it just me? Surely the ice must be melting.

"Speaking of hard work," I say, desperate to keep her talking, "how's your training going? For the, uh..." Crap, what was it called? "The Skate America thing?"

Her eyes light up, and I know I've hit the jackpot. "It's going well. Lachlan and I have been putting in extra hours to perfect our new lift."

I nod like I have any clue what that means. "That's awesome. I'd love to see it sometime."

Did I just invite myself to watch her practice? Again? Smooth, real smooth.

But Del doesn't seem put off. If anything, her smile grows a fraction wider. "Maybe you will."

My heart soars. Is that an invitation?

"So, uh, the team's heading to The Penalty Box to celebrate. You two want to join us?"

Before Del can answer, Greer steps forward, her trademark smirk in place. "Of course we're coming. Someone's got to keep an eye on you jocks, make sure you don't get into too much trouble."

??????

The Penalty Box hits us with a wall of noise and bodies the second we step through the door. The place is packed tighter than a freshman dorm during move-in week, the air thick with the smell of beer and victory. My teammates are already scattered throughout, basking in the glow of post-game adoration.

I feel Del stiffen beside me as a group of girls in skin tight tops and barely-there skirts swarms us, their Hunters jerseys tied around their waists like an afterthought. A couple of them have players’ numbers painted on their cheeks in glitter, their smiles too wide and too practiced. Puck bunnies. Fantastic.

"Breck! You were on fire tonight!" one of them squeals, pressing way too close.

"Thanks," I mutter, trying to sidestep, but they're everywhere. I glance at Del, seeing her green eyes narrow as she takes a step back.

No. Not happening.

Without thinking, I reach out and grab Del's hand, intertwining our fingers. Her skin is cool against mine, but I swear I feel sparks.

"Sorry, ladies," I say, flashing what I hope is a polite but firm smile. "Gotta get to the team table."

I tug Del gently through the crowd, hyper-aware of every point where our bodies brush. My heart's pounding harder than it did during the game.

"You okay?" I ask, leaning close to her ear so she can hear me over the din.

Del nods, but I catch a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "Yeah, just... not really my scene."

I squeeze her hand. "We don't have to stay long. I just... I wanted you here."

The smile she gives me in return is small, but real. It makes my chest feel too tight, in the best way possible.

We finally reach the raised area with the reserved "HUNTERS" sign. I guide Del to the table, reluctantly letting go of her hand.

It’s packed with players and their adoring fans already. Del looks uncomfortable as she scans the packed table. No empty seats in sight.

Greer, ever the blunt force of nature, catches my eye with a mischievous smirk. "Problem solved, lover boy," she announces, loud enough for nearby teammates to hear. "Del, just park it on Breck's lap. He won't mind."

Del's eyes widen, a blush creeping up her neck. "Oh, I couldn't—"

"It's fine," I blurt out, my voice an octave higher than usual. "I mean, if you're okay with it. Totally up to you."

Del hesitates for a moment before nodding, and I take the chance to pull her closer. My hands find her waist, steady and sure, as I guide her down onto my lap. She settles, still a little stiff, but the warmth of her body against mine is impossible to ignore. The scent of whipped honey and almond surrounds me, sweet and addictive, and I have to fight the urge to bury my face in the crook of her neck.

Fuck. Del’s not the only one who’s a little stiff. I keep my grip on her waist steady, pretending like nothing’s happening, while internally willing my body to get a grip.

"You good?" I murmur, trying desperately to keep my body from reacting.

She nods, leaning back slightly. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry if I'm squishing you."

I chuckle, hoping it doesn't sound as strained as it feels. "Trust me, you're light as a feather."

Del turns her head, bringing her lips close to my ear. A shiver runs down my spine. "You really were amazing out there tonight. I've never seen anything like it."

Her breath tickles my skin, and I swear my heart stops for a second. "Yeah?" I lean in, speaking directly into her ear to be heard over the noise. "Maybe next time I'll have to come watch you skate in competition. Bet you put me to shame."

She laughs, the sound vibrating through both of us. "Different ice, different skills. But I'd like that."

We fall into conversation, heads bent close, creating our own little bubble in the chaos of the bar. Every word feels charged, intimate. I'm hyperaware of every subtle shift of her body, every brush of her hair against my cheek.

I've never wanted to kiss someone so badly in my life.

Without thinking, I reach up and gently brush a strand of Del's golden hair away from her face, tracing the line of her jaw with my thumb. She stills, and our eyes lock. That intense green gaze draws me in like a gravitational pull. My gaze drops to her lips, soft and slightly parted. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I swear time slows down.

Del doesn't pull away. If anything, she leans in ever so slightly, her eyes searching mine. I take a deep breath, steeling my nerves. It's now or never, Monroe.

I lean in, my eyes fluttering closed—

BAM!

Someone crashes into my back, jostling us both. The moment shatters and I’m fucking pissed. I whip my head around, ready to tear into whoever just cockblocked me, but Del's gentle hand on my arm stops me.

"It's okay," she says softly, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "Hey, um, I was wondering..."

My heart's still racing, but for a different reason now. "Yeah?"

"That banana bread recipe. I'd really like it if you could show me how to make it."

I blink, thrown by the change in topic. "You want me to teach you how to bake?"

Del nods, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. "If that's alright. I have Skate America in Texas next weekend, so it would have to be before or after that."

My mind is reeling. She wants to spend time with me, outside of this crowded bar? Just the two of us? I try to play it cool, but inside I'm doing a victory lap.

"How's Tuesday sound?" I ask, praying my voice doesn't betray how eager I am.

Her smile widens, and it's like the sun breaking through clouds. "Tuesday's perfect."