Page 12

Chapter

Ten

The bleachers of the Douglas Dome were already buzzing when I squeezed between Shar and Crystal, nearly dropping my smoothie in the process.

It wasn’t warm enough to justify an iced drink under normal circumstances, but once the temperature hit ten degrees Celsius in Alberta after a long winter, it was basically shorts weather.

The smell of popcorn, rubber, and that industrial cleaner they used on the concrete floors hit me like it always did—familiar and comforting, but tonight?

It also heightened my nerves. Tuesday evening, I‘d handed the file back to Chase, and I had no idea what he was going to do with it. He wasn’t sure if Coach Blakely would even consider letting him mess with the shifts, but I crossed my fingers. The data didn’t lie.

And tonight, the Outlaws were playing Red Deer Central College’s team, the Ravens. When we played them on their home ice earlier in the season, they beat us in a shootout.

I found Chase pacing behind the bench, his shirt sleeves rolled up. I bit my lip.

"I’ve never liked this team," Crystal muttered, eyeing the Red Deer bench. Their jerseys were deep red with silver piping, and their goalie looked like he could bench-press a Zamboni.

Shar nudged me. "You look like you’re about to puke."

I’d filled the girls in on my meeting with Chase, but as soon as their eyes started to glaze over, I’d skipped ahead to the accidental finger brush, and we’d spent the rest of the conversation on my near panic attack and subsequent highlighter flip.

“I get it, you know. The patterns. Music is math, too.” Sharla threw an arm over my shoulders and squeezed. “It’s like you’re the conductor. You give the best instruction you can and hope everyone else follows.” Her brows pinched. “Huh. I never thought about how stressful that is.”

“Only if you care about the finished product.” Crystal leaned over and took a swig of my smoothie.

I tried to keep my voice casual, but my fingers were clamped so tightly around the styrofoam cup it creaked. “Chase was talking about how this is one of the last opportunities these guys will get to play competitive hockey. That’s sad, isn’t it?”

Shar cocked her head to the side. “It is, yeah. But it’s kind of the same for us. When will I get to play in an orchestra like this again?”

I considered that. “You could audition, couldn’t you?”

“I mean, that’s the goal, but if I don’t make it, I’m in the same boat as the players. Stuck in community groups—not that that’s a bad thing, but it’s not as high level.”

Crystal nodded. “At least you’ll never age out.”

Shar blew out a breath. “That’s true. And my arm hopefully won’t give out as fast from bowing as Rob's knees will from sprinting on the ice.”

The first puck drop had barely hit the ice before I saw it. The third line was starting the shift. Not Rob’s line. Not Axel’s. I clapped a hand over my mouth. Chase had convinced Blakely to roll a lower-energy line first to offset the expected first-period push, that was the only explanation.

"Isn't that new?" Shar frowned.

"Yup," I murmured. "Saving Axel for when the pace drops a hair. Letting the other team burn themselves out against our grinders."

Crystal blinked at me. "I’m just going to cheer and scream at the refs instead of trying to make sense of that, cool?”

I laughed. When I looked up, Chase stood still at the back of the box, his eyes locked on mine. My face lit up, and I pointed at the ice using my arms as sideways exclamation points. Even from here, his head dip was visible as a smile split his face. He glanced back up and gave a cheeky shrug.

Two minutes in, the puck was deep in the Ravens’ zone. Bear scooped it behind their net, passed back to Rob at the point, and bam .

Goal.

"One-nothing!" Crystal shrieked, jumping to her feet.

But I barely noticed the scoreboard change. All I saw was the zone entry timing. Chase had timed the line shift perfectly.

Midway through the first period, Red Deer tried to press back, but every time they attempted a breakout, Nick and Rory collapsed the neutral zone like they’d rehearsed it. I could feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.

The second period saw Bear and Rory out longer than usual, and at first, I thought it was a mistake. Then I noticed the staggered pairing. Rory’s stats might not sparkle, but with Bear covering defensively, he had more freedom to play instinctively.

By the time Axel roofed a backhander on a power play in the second period, after one of their forwards drew a penalty crashing the net, we were up three-nothing.

Shar leaned over and whispered, "Your brain is terrifying."

I grinned. "Math, suckers!"

Red Deer finally scored halfway through the third. Their centre got loose after a turnover and popped it glove-side. The Ravens' bench roared. But it was too little, too late.

Chase didn’t flinch. Blakely called for the third line again to slow the tempo. Then Axel and Rob came out and executed the shift Chase had drawn up Tuesday.

Another goal.

Four-one.

When Axel deked past two defenders in the final minute and tapped in a rebound, the whole place exploded.

Five-one. Holy shit.

The final buzzer sounded, and students pressed toward the glass, pounding their hands and shouting.

“That was—I don’t even know, that’s the best I’ve ever seen them play!” Crystal stood with both hands clawed in her hair, staring at our friends on the ice.

I didn’t yell. I didn’t move.

My eyes were laser-focused on Chase behind the bench. He was talking with Blakely as the guys celebrated, and then, as Rob led the team back through the gate to exit the rink, Chase turned.

He scanned the ice, the scoreboard, then dragged his eyes to our section. When he found me, he straightened, then pointed. When he was sure he had my attention, he moved his hand to his shoulder and brushed, like he was flicking off a piece of lint.

I laughed out loud.

“What?” Crystal followed my eye line and planted her hands on her hips. “Are you flirting from across the whole damn arena?”

“No!” I groaned, turning and grabbing her arm, pulling her toward the stairs. Shar was already halfway down the row.

“Rob’s meeting us at Ranchman’s!” She called back over her shoulder.

The wind had kicked up during the game, but nobody seemed to care.

The parking lot buzzed like a live wire—students who hadn’t cared about hockey two weeks ago were practically doing cartwheels over the Outlaws’ 5–1 blowout.

We were surrounded by endless honking and bodies hanging out of side door windows.

Crystal clutched my arm. “You might be a witch.”

I laughed, giddy and flushed with adrenaline. “Don’t tell anyone. They’ll burn me at the stake.”

We didn’t have to walk far to reach my Rabbit. Thanks to my heightened anxiety levels, I’d arrived early to the game. I unlocked the driver’s side door with a satisfying ka-chunk , reached around and unlocked the other doors, and we piled in.

“I can’t believe Blakely actually listened.” Shar turned up the volume on the radio.

“I don’t know much about him.” I reversed, claiming a spot in the winding line of cars waiting to exit the lot.

“He doesn’t strike me as a pushover.” Crystal leaned forward between the two seats.

“Well, apparently he’s willing to listen to reason.”

“And it worked. So, what is Chase now? Assistant coach?”

I scoffed. “I doubt he even wants that.” After the words left my lips, I questioned them.

What did Chase want? He’d all but admitted he didn’t have a lot of options when it came to coaching.

Was that why he asked me to help him? Was he looking for a way to position himself into a better coaching position?

“I saw that look he gave you. It wasn’t just a ‘thanks for helping me.’ If you know what I mean.” Crystal winked at me in the rearview mirror.

“Dude, tell him to shave that mustache and I’d be all in on wanting him for you.”

I snorted. “Why, thank you for?—”

The car in front of me screeched to a halt, and I slammed on the brakes, stopping centimetres from the guy’s bumper. I sucked in a breath, white-knuckling the wheel. Then all of us burst out laughing.

It took more than fifteen minutes to get to Ranchman’s, but it didn’t kill our buzz. The bar was somehow already half-full by the time we arrived, the scent of cologne, burgers, and fries so thick, it steamed up the windows.

Crystal grabbed my arm and hauled me through the crowd. We always made a beeline for the reserved tables at the back. They were technically set aside for the players, but since Shar was with Rob, we counted.

Two pitchers of beer and a basket of peanuts were already waiting for us.

"Ugh. This place is the best." Crystal grabbed a stool and settled in.

The door swung again, and in streamed the Outlaws with their damp hair and wide grins.

Rob, Bear, Axel, and Rory were instantly mobbed.

It took them a full ten minutes to reach the back.

Rob scooped Shar into his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.

She melted into him, her fingers lifting into his hair.

I wanted that. But for the first time, I wasn’t looking at Rob or whatever guy my friends were dating. I was looking at them. At Shar. Here, in the middle of all the chaos, she let herself go. If I wanted what she and Rob had, I needed to be like that. I had no idea where to start.

Rob pulled back and kissed her temple.

"Good game.” Shar ruffled his hair.

Axel plopped down next to Crystal and snagged a handful of peanuts. "You three are officially good luck. You’re not allowed to skip any more games." He turned to me. “And you. You’re now required to meet with Coach Wilson before every game, eh?”

I laughed and took the beer Rory poured for me. “I can do that.”

“Cheers.” Rory held up his glass, and the others hustled to fill theirs and clink.

We ordered wings, nachos, and eventually switched to drinking Diet Cokes and lemon water. Everyone was laughing. Teasing. Celebrating. Axel started in on telling us about his aunt or great aunt or someone he was related to who was letting us stay in their house for the weekend after Canada West.

As exciting as that was, I couldn’t stop scanning the door. It was twenty minutes later, and I was halfway through a bite of buffalo chicken, when the door swung open and Chase walked in.

My chest lifted—immediate and involuntary—only to slam down like a brick two seconds later. Because sweeping in behind him, her arm linked with his, was Melody Sanchez.