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“Savannah,” he says, his smirk widening into something more mischievous. “I think you should talk to her.”

I stop skating, planting my stick into the ice as I stare at him. “Savannah?”

“Yeah, she’ll give you a lot of motivation, and people who are in happy relationships usually have better relationships with their friends. Their best friends, to be precise.”

“Are you talking about Dash?”

“Yes. Maybe you and Dash will act normally again once you’ve started dating Savannah.”

My brows cross as I think about it all. Erik’s suggesting I try to date Savannah to improve my relationship with Dash?

“Wait a minute. How do you even know about Savannah?”

He opens his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture. “I know everything,” he cackles dramatically. When I keep staring, waiting for him to elaborate, he drops his arms and shrugs. “Okay, fine. I overheard Scotty and Dash talking about it yesterday.”

I glance over at Scotty and Dash, who are huddled near the boards.

Scotty’s face is flaming red, clearly wishing for a sinkhole to open up and swallow him whole.

Meanwhile, Dash looks grumpy as fuck, but that’s his default setting since birth.

His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, I’m surprised he hasn’t cut off his own circulation, and he’s deliberately avoiding eye contact.

“You’ve been talking to people about my situation?

” I ask Dash, my voice calm with an edge to it that I don’t bother to conceal.

Fucking hilarious. There he was, up on his high horse lecturing me about Stanley, when he was going behind my back, gossiping about me like we’re on that stupid show Erik watches, The Baseball Bachelor.

Dash opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Scotty raises a hand.

“Look, it was me,” he admits. “I asked what was going on with you because I don’t want the tension between the two of you to ruin the team dynamic.

We’ve got a hard schedule in front of us, and the last thing we need is unresolved drama messing with our game. ”

“Tension?” I echo, frowning as I look around. “I don’t think we have tension.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Erik says, his stick resting against his shoulder as he gives me an unimpressed look.

I glance around at the rest of the team, opening up the question. “Do we have tension?”

Brooks scratches his beard, suddenly finding it far more interesting than this conversation.

Alex looks confused, but that guy’s always too nice for confrontation.

He shrugs helplessly, looking at the others, hoping someone else will speak up.

Henry doesn’t say a word, which isn’t surprising considering our history.

“You’re all going to make me answer, aren’t you?

” Erik says, flat-lipped and annoyed. He gestures with his stick, pointing at me and then Dash.

“Yes. The tension is ridiculous. We can’t have any of our usual meet-ups because you don’t want to see our grumpy goalie in fear he might grumble about your sister. ”

“Hey,” Dash grumbles… unsurprisingly.

Erik turns to Dash, who’s looking over at Madison.

Thankfully, she’s too hung up on Stanley to notice this conversation.

“Don’t even try to deny it, Bridges. You’re like a growling, prowling polar bear with a thorn in its paw.

It’s why you’re fucking gold for the team.

This”—Erik gestures between us with a disgusted flick of his wrist—“whole angry tension thing is killing team morale. Especially during lunch when all I want to do is shovel lasagna into my face without sitting through the world’s most awkward silence or talk about why you two can’t see eye to eye.

You’re teammates. You need to suck up your differences for the rest of us before Coach notices and makes us all skate suicides until we puke. ”

I look around, and the lack of eye contact is telling.

They all agree. It’s just that Erik is the only one willing to say it.

I rub the back of my neck, feeling a mix of irritation and guilt.

I hadn’t realized it was affecting everyone else that much.

The cold bite of the rink suddenly feels sharper, cutting through the haze of my thoughts.

Before I can respond, Stanley barks and jumps over the boards, bounding toward me with his tongue lolling out. The little guy is fast, and before anyone can stop him, he’s at my feet, wagging his tail excitedly, his eyes shining with pure joy.

I scoop him up, holding him against my chest as he licks my face enthusiastically. “Hey, buddy. You trying to save me from this intervention?”

The team chuckles, the tension breaking slightly as Stanley squirms in my arms, his tail wagging furiously.

“Look, we’re not trying to gang up on you,” Scotty says, stepping forward, his expression earnest. “We just want things to go back to normal. You and Dash are brothers, and we need that energy on the ice.”

“But why would speaking to a girl in my economics class help things?” I ask.

“Because,” Erik pipes up, “if you’re focusing on what’s going on in your bed, you won’t care so much about what’s going on in his .” He points at Dash.

Scotty shakes his head, whacking Erik upside his. “Ouch! What was that for?”

“You’re an idiot,” Scotty said before skating over to us. “What Erik means is maybe if you focused on your love life, it might be easier to accept Madison and Dash are together.”

“I have accepted it.”

Silence.

“And I have Stanley to focus on.” As if on cue, Stanley barks in approval and reaches up, licking my chin.

Dash clears his throat, drawing our attention to him. “I hate to say this, but I agree with Erik. Like I said before, I think you should talk to her.”

“Oh, you want to talk love lives now?”

“See. This is what I’m talking about.” Erik points between us. “Mom and Dad are fighting, and I don’t like it.”

“Look, I get the last thing you want from me right now is relationship advice, but I feel like it’s important you hear from my perspective,” Dash says.

“I’ve known you for a long time. I think it’s important you address this.

Your head’s not in the game, and yes, that’s partly my fault, but I’m doing everything I can to try to make it up to you.

I know I’m annoying you, but usually you play better when you’re pissed off.

Right now your sluggish moves on the ice can only be explained by Savannah. You’re distracted. We can all see it.”

I sigh as Stanley wiggles in my arms. They’re right.

I haven’t stopped thinking about a girl who barely acknowledges I exist. Getting Stanley has been a nice distraction, but whenever we’re in class, the same questions come to mind.

I’m always thinking about her, wondering what’s going on, and it’s starting to bleed into everything else.

I didn’t want to admit it before, but it’s obvious now.

I need to try to talk to her again.

“Fine,” I say, setting Stanley back down gently. He immediately trots over to Brooks, who kneels to scratch behind his ears. “I’ll ask her out.”

“When?” Scotty asks.

“Why, do you want to help him?” Erik jeers.

“Better than you trying to help.” Scotty’s words are laced with venom as he looks at our carefree left winger before turning back to me. “I’ve found seeing dates and times really helps you supercharge your goals.”

“Wow. Who’s talking? You or your dad?” Erik can’t help but rile Scotty up a little.

Scotty doesn’t take the bait. Ever the professional, he ignores him.

I guess maybe I should take a leaf out of their book.

They had a fight last year, and there’s still obvious tension between the two of them, but when they play together every night, you wouldn’t know.

“I’ll do it after class tomorrow,” I say, already knowing she’ll try to leave before I get the chance.

“Great,” Erik says, grinning as he twirls his stick. “Now can we please finish practice before Coach makes us do extra laps?”

I nod, but as I skate back into position, my mind is already miles away.

Asking Savannah out has never been the fucking problem.

I've asked so many times I sound like a broken record.

It's getting her to agree to do anything with anyone that seems to be the issue.

She's more elusive than a sober person at an Aiden Matthews, head quarterback, house party.

I'll just have to give her an offer she can't refuse, and yes, I'm fully aware I sound like a budget mob boss, but desperate times call for desperate measures.