Page 17

Chapter seventeen

Riley: Leaning In

“ D id you see it?”

Tessa didn’t even look up. She kept stirring her coffee like it was a witch’s brew and waiting for steam to spell out a curse.

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t even want to talk about it.”

She raised one eyebrow. “OK”

I exhaled hard through my nose. “Can’t her editor pull her back to wherever she came from? Can't she cover something important in—I don’t know—Turkey?”

Tessa leaned back in her chair. “Turkey?”

“It’s what I’m having for lunch.”

Tessa cracked a smile. I didn’t want to smile back, but I did. Just a little.

“She twisted it, Tessa. She made it sound like Colton’s out here begging me to keep his hockey career alive. Like the rescue is some kind of rehab program.”

“She does have a gift,” Tessa muttered, dragging her spoon around the inside rim of her mug.

“I mean, the guy has been working his tail off. He doesn’t deserve this.”

There was a pause. A quiet one.

“You know,” Tessa said slowly, like she was easing into a thought, “I’ve always believed in good old-fashioned karma.”

She sipped her coffee, watching me over the rim.

“Sometimes you just gotta... help it along a little.”

I stared at her. “What does that mean?”

Another sip. Innocent blink.

“Tessa?”

Before I could press her, she glanced past me, voice lowering.

“Don’t turn around. Colton’s here.”

My heart thudded once, hard.

“I’m guessing,” she added, “he saw the article.”

Colton walked past without a word. Just a sharp nod and a tight grip on the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder.

I froze. Totally blank. My mouth opened—and nothing came out.

Tessa gave me a look like, Seriously?

“Good morning, Colton,” she said, overly bright.

I dropped my elbow onto the counter, forehead landing in my palm. Smooth.

He didn’t even slow down. “I’m gonna start unloading the dog food. I didn’t get to it yesterday.”

His voice was brisk and clipped. His feet were heavy against the floor, like each step was trying to stomp out his frustration.

When the door to the storage room shut behind him, Tessa turned to me, eyes wide.

“What was that?” I hissed.

Tessa lifted her head slowly. “What?”

I threw a hand in the air, gesturing toward the door he’d just walked through. “‘Good morning, Colton’? That’s the best you could come up with? I doubt he’s having a good morning, considering the whole world thinks I’m his parole officer.”

“Well, it was better than the deer-in-headlights impression you gave. You looked like someone unplugged your brain.”

She gave me a pointed look. “And why are you mad at me? Shouldn’t you be mad at him? He didn’t say good morning. Or—more importantly—he didn’t bring us coffee.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I’m not mad at him. Tessa. Honestly. With the way Vanessa keeps dragging him through the mud, I think saying nothing might’ve been the smartest move he made all week.”

Tessa tilted her head. "So what now?"

“I’ll go over after he’s stacked all the dog food. He should be tired by then.”

Tessa smirked. “Smart. Get the tall, strong guy to do all the heavy lifting.”

“Oh, shut up.” I laughed despite myself.

“You should probably get back to work,” I said, reaching for the clipboard.

Tessa didn’t move. “You first.”

I wasn’t in a rush to go over to Colton. I had no idea what to say when I did. So I lingered by the door, pretending to check something on my phone. I’ll just wait until he takes a break. Which, of course, is exactly when he decided to take one.

Colton sat on an overturned bucket near the back of the storage area, with a bottle of water in one hand and his forearms resting on his knees. Sweat clung to the back of his neck, his shirt damp from hauling fifty-pound bags in and out of the supply closet.

I grabbed a plastic crate, flipped it over, and sat beside him. I wanted to make it clear I wasn’t here to push.

I didn’t say anything.

Ryan had this trick. Stay quiet long enough, and the other person would fill the silence.

It worked.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say hello this morning.”

I smiled a little and handed him a fresh bottle of water. “No need to apologize.”

He nodded, eyes still down. “I was so angry, I just needed to blow off some steam.”

I shifted on the crate, turning slightly toward him, trying to catch his eyeline. “Honestly, Colton? I’m impressed with how you’re handling this.”

That made him glance over, skeptical.

“I mean it,” I said. “Vanessa’s thrown a lot at you. More than one person should have to put up with.”

I looked straight ahead. “I don’t know what I would’ve done in your shoes. Probably... I don’t know. Keyed her fancy car.”

That got him. He let out a real laugh, the first I’d heard from him all day.

“No, you wouldn’t have.”

“Okay, maybe not,” I admitted. “But I would’ve daydreamed really hard about it.”

He smiled, just a little.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For letting it make you mad.”

We sat in silence again. This one felt comfortable.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” I said, “I think Tessa’s scheming something. She won’t admit it, but she’s got that look in her eye.”

His mouth twitched at the corner, not quite a smile, but enough to say he appreciated it.

I reached over and grabbed one of his hands. “Catch up later?”

He nodded.

I left him to rest and headed toward the front of the shelter, weaving past the kennels and out into the lobby. My so-called office was more like a nook behind the welcome desk—just enough room for a rolling chair, a cluttered laptop, and a mug with permanent coffee stains.

Tessa walked in with one of the teen volunteers. They had some quick questions about food rotation charts. I was mid-answer when the door chimed.

She walked in like she’d done it a hundred times before.

Tall, toned, blonde. Hair up in a sleek ponytail, not a strand out of place.

Leggings, team-branded zip-up, and this effortless glow like she’d just stepped out of a fitness ad.

I recognized the Icehawks logo immediately—small, but unmistakably from the team.

“Hi,” she said, her voice smooth. “I’m looking for Colton Hayes?”

Tessa and I both blinked.

"Sorry, I am Ann Matthews."

“Uh, sure,” I said, trying not to stare. “He’s out back, near the dog-walking yard.”

Tessa turned to the volunteer. “Can you show... Ann? back that way?”

The girl nodded and led the blonde through the side gate.

I stayed where I was, watching the door slowly swing shut behind them.

Who looks that good in athletic wear?

I glanced down at my hoodie, the faint shadow of kibble dust near the hem.

Right. Totally fine. No reason to care.

Tessa didn’t even wait for the door to click shut before turning to me with a grin.

“I bet he invited her just to make you jealous.”

I gave her a sharp look. “I’m not jealous.”

“Jealous of what?” she asked, way too casually, like she hadn’t been waiting for that exact answer.

“He can talk to whoever he wants.”

Tessa tilted her head and gave me a look like she was already ten steps ahead. “You want me to ruff her up? Tell her she can’t talk to your boyfriend?”

I let out a laugh, caught somewhere between amused and horrified. “No, I don’t want you to ruff her up. What is wrong with you today?”

She smirked. “Just checking.”

I shook my head, still laughing. “First of all, that would not be the kind of PR the rescue needs right now. Second, at five-foot-two, I think she’d ruff you up. And third—Colton isn’t my boyfriend.”

Tessa leaned against the desk, arms folded. “Suit yourself. But for the record, only two of those three statements are true.”

I let out a breath and dropped into my chair, the back creaking a little under me. “I like him,” I said finally. “There. I said it.”

Tessa didn’t say anything right away. She just gave me a slow blink and a lift of her brows, like, and…?

I glanced toward the window, the sunlight slanting in just enough to catch the edge of Colton’s footprints still damp on the concrete.

“I want to believe there’s something there. With him. I do.”

Tessa tilted her head, watching me without interrupting.

“But even if he doesn’t get traded to another AHL team… he’s probably going back to the NHL. And he should.”

She leaned one hip against the edge of the counter.

“He loves it,” I continued. “He’s not just chasing the spotlight anymore. You can see it when he’s at practice or talking to the other guys. He loves being part of a team. He loves competing with himself. He belongs out there.”

I rubbed my palms over my jeans. “He’ll be there. I’ll still be here.”

Muffled voices drifted in from outside.

Then Tessa said, quietly but without hesitation, “Maybe you don’t have to be so sure about everything all the time. Maybe, just this once, you see what happens.”

A few minutes later, the side door creaked open. Colton stepped in first, his eyes sweeping the room like he was checking for landmines. He ran a hand through his hair. His other hand hovered near his side, fingers twitching like he wasn't sure whether to shove it into his pocket or let it hang.

Ann followed, calm and easy. Still glowing like a sponsored hydration ad.

"Hey," Colton said, his voice casual but tight around the edges. "Just wanted to introduce you both officially. This is Ann—she’s the team’s mental fitness coach."

Tessa straightened, just slightly. I stood, more out of reflex than anything else.

"I'm Riley," I said, offering a hand. "And this is my second-in-command, Tessa."

Tessa gave a slight nod, arms still crossed but eyes sharp. "Nice to meet you."

Colton scratched the back of his neck. “When Coach told the team to check out the rescue, Ann wanted to see it for herself. I… I told her how the dogs have kind of been a good sounding board for me.”

His eyes flicked to me, then back down. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

I felt my shoulders relax, just a little. “Thanks for coming, Ann. It means a lot that you’d take the time.”

Ann smiled. "It’s great to see all the work you’re doing here—the dogs, the volunteers, the programs. Coach said this place has been important for Colton. I wanted to see it for myself."

“Come by anytime,” I added, finding my footing again. “Seriously. We’re always happy to have visitors who aren’t wielding cameras.”

Ann nodded and headed out, promising to stop by again. As the door clicked shut behind her, Tessa let out an exaggerated sigh.

"You know," she said, stretching dramatically, "I just remembered—I have to reorganize the entire supply closet. Alphabetically. By brand. Very urgent."

Colton raised an eyebrow. I gave her a flat look.

"And no, I don't need help," she added with a wink, then disappeared toward the back.

Colton shifted beside me, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. "She always that subtle?"

“Only when she’s trying to be helpful.”

I paused, then cleared my throat. “Can you thank the team? For supporting the rescue, I mean. With everything going on... this last legal challenge is kind of my last shot.”

Colton shifted slightly, his brows drawing together.

I exhaled. “Sorry. Is that something I shouldn’t bring up?”

He looked at me, surprised. “You don’t have to stay away from that topic.”

“Well,” I said, hesitating, “it’s your dad. I didn’t know if that was... off-limits.”

Colton shook his head. “I want you to win, Riley.”

He said it plainly. Like it wasn’t complicated.

“My dad has other options. He just doesn’t like being told no.”

I blinked. “You’d really be okay with that?”

“I’ve even thought about calling him myself. Telling him to back off the rescue land.”

That caught me off guard. “I appreciate that. But I wouldn’t want to put you in that kind of position.”

He shrugged. His eyes narrowed a bit. Focused.

“What you need is cash. Donations. Right?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. My lawyer’s cutting me a deal, but I still need the funds to buy the land outright.”

Colton scratched his jaw, thinking. “What if we set up something? A charity scrimmage? Or maybe I reach out to some sponsors to see if we can get some attention.”

I swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

Colton glanced toward the clock on the wall, then stretched his arms overhead with a small grunt. "I better get going."

I stood as he did, brushing my hands on my jeans. There was something on my mind—something I hadn’t said earlier, when he first came in. It hadn’t been the right moment. But now… now it felt like maybe it was.

"Colton?"

He looked over at me. "Yeah?"

"Can I give you some advice?"

He raised an eyebrow, wary but amused. "You’re not about to yell at me, are you?"

I smiled. "No."

I hesitated for a breath, then pushed forward. "You’re powerful on the ice. I’ve seen you crash people into the boards if they get too close to your goalie. You don’t hesitate to fight when a teammate gets roughed up."

He looked confused. "Is this going somewhere?"

I hit his arm lightly. “Shut up and let me finish, will you?”

Colton let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing the spot where I’d nudged him.

“Do I have a choice?” He was smiling.

“No, you don’t,” I shot back, but my voice was softer now.

“I just—” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I can’t believe how little you fight for yourself. You could leave at the end of the year if you want, but if you leave… who wins?”

“Vanessa. Vanessa wins.” I answered for him.

He was staring at me now.

“My advice?” I continued, quieter this time. “Stand up for yourself, Colton.”

The shift happened fast. The fight drained out of his stance. Before I could register it, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me in.

A hug. Strong, warm—decisive.

Well, that wasn't the reaction I expected. But hey, Colton's arms around me. I'll take it.

“You’re really bossy, you know that?” he murmured into my ear.

A surprised laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

And then, he pulled me in tighter. “Thanks.”

I leaned my head against his chest and listened to his heartbeat.

I let out a slow breath, then pulled back just a little—just enough to slip my hand from the nape of his neck and rest it against his cheek instead. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, a little rough from the day.

“Focus on yourself first,” I said, quieter now. My thumb brushed over his cheekbone, and I swallowed, ignoring how my heart was suddenly too aware of itself. “Then we can figure out how to work together on us.”

His eyes stayed on mine.

I pushed up onto my toes and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his lips. Barely more than a breath.

Then I eased back down, stepping away before I could start apologizing or rambling or messing up whatever this was.