Page 3 of Your Biggest Downfall (Ravens Hockey #3)

nova thatcher

“I need a venti Americano with an extra shot of espresso and cold foam on top,” my boss, Iris, huffed as she shoved me out of her office.

We won the game yesterday against Minnesota, meaning we were leading into the finals of the Conference. I’d assumed Iris would be in a good mood after the win, but she was as grumpy as usual.

I’d been a social media intern for the Chicago Ravens publicity team for a couple years, likely longer than any other intern because I was too scared to ask for a full-time position.

Despite the low pay and long hours, I stayed—this was my dream job, and with my mother dying, I needed to be near her.

Somehow, I thought Iris was calling me into her office to promote me or congratulate me since the team was doing well in the playoffs and a few videos I’d posted had gone viral.

But I should’ve known better. Regardless, I did what I always did because this job was a door, an opportunity to move forward in my career.

“Of course, Iris,” I said, hesitating as my gaze drifted out toward the rink.

Her office, perched at the top of the stadium, boasted expansive windows overlooking the ice. The space was modern, with sleek wooden accents that softened its professional tone. As head of PR and publicity, Iris commanded respect equal to the coaches.

“Do you need something?” she snapped, not looking up.

“Sorry,” I stammered, lowering my head. “I was admiring your view.”

I reached for the large wooden door, but with my hand on the knob, I paused. Something held me back. Maybe it was the desire for her to finally see me as more than just the intern—or perhaps I was tired of being invisible.

Turning slowly, I glanced back at her. She sat poised, her curls piled high, glasses perched low on her nose, and her crisp button-down still pristine as she scribbled notes. She didn’t notice me lingering.

“Did you see the videos I posted this week?” I ventured, keeping my voice steady. “They went viral. Austin Hart’s definitely a hit with the ladies—it’s driving some real traction on socials.”

Iris looked up at me quizzically. “Don’t fall for the players, Nova.”

I was appalled and so shocked that I physically took a step backward. “What? No. I didn’t— I’m not falling for anyone. Austin performs well on socials, and last year he enjoyed doing the videos, so I’m?—”

Iris clicked her tongue. “But that was last year. This year I see the way he’s been annoyed with you. You’re pushing too much.”

Fuck her. I wasn’t falling for anyone. Last year, Austin and I had a great relationship.

I helped plan his stepdad’s retirement party, and we hung out at work.

Sure, this year, he’d pulled away a little, but we were still friends.

The last thing on my mind was falling for someone, but I didn’t need my stupid-ass boss to be privy to my private life.

I swallowed. “Got it. I was just here to show you how the videos have been doing.” I probably looked like something was wrong with me because I was blinking furiously, trying to stop the tears from falling. I wasn’t going to cry—not here, not now.

“Hmm.” Iris didn’t even bother to look up from her paper. “That’s your job.”

Feeling wholeheartedly dejected, I dropped my gaze to the ground. “Oh. Yeah. Cool,” I said as I pushed open the door and walked out into the hallway.

“You’re not going to cry,” I mumbled as hot tears pricked my eyes.

I was wearing a long-sleeved jean dress to cover my tattoos because Iris hated them, but I was suddenly feeling overly warm and anxious.

“Deep breaths,” I reminded myself, fumbling in my pockets for my phone.

I needed to decompress and call my best friend, Luna.

It was like our names were kismet, destining us to be paired together.

Nova and Luna—everyone pointed it out when we were growing up.

“Like a star and the moon,” they’d say. We used to laugh about it, finding it amusing that our names fit so perfectly, as if we were meant to be best friends from the start.

“Fuck,” I muttered, quickly heading down the escalator to get out of the building.

Talking through my anxiety had always been a habit.

Usually, I could keep it to a few choice words, but when I was particularly stressed, I tended to ramble.

“You are smarter than you think. You did a kick-ass job on the videos, and you deserve more than being an intern grabbing coffee. You are not falling for anyone because you have a damn brain and hockey guys aren’t even your type. ”

Tears blurred my vision as I finally grabbed my phone and stepped off the escalator. I was close to the door, but I wasn’t expecting to run into what felt like a giant brick wall.

“What the fuck?” I exclaimed, quickly trying to wipe away my tears.

“Oh, shit, Nova. Are you okay?” A deep voice echoed through the lobby.

“Uh.” The words caught in my throat as my breath quickened, teetering on the edge of a panic attack.

It felt just like when my mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer, and it began to spread—like the moment we learned the first round of chemo hadn’t worked, and they were racing to stop it from spreading farther.

It was the same damn feeling I had when the doctor told us their efforts hadn’t worked. ..

I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.

I didn’t know why—maybe because I felt like an utter failure, or because I didn’t get to call my best friend in time—but the next thing I knew, Austin Hart was holding me tightly against his chest. He smelled like sweat, probably from practice, but mostly, he smelled like chamomile, reminding me of my childhood when my mom would bring me tea when I was sick.

So I let him hold me as tear after tear racked my body. I didn’t care as I reached behind him to get a better grip. I didn’t notice when his face landed in my cropped black bob and he inhaled deeply. I definitely didn’t notice when his hand gripped the back of my neck and I sank into his chest.

I cried for what seemed like hours before my body felt weak and my tears stopped, my heart empty.

I pulled away and sniffled as I rubbed the tears off my face. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I’ve had a shitty?—”

“No.” Austin held up a hand. “It’s okay.”

Then he laughed.

I took a step backward, the sadness replaced by anger. “Are you fucking laughing at me?” I huffed.

He chuckled, clutching his stomach before he held up a hand. “No. No. It’s not what it seems.”

I hesitated, waiting to see if he was planning on expanding.

“It’s just that my mom and her husband met like this. She was on the street crying about moving me out here when Ledger saw her for the first time.”

Now that I wasn’t burying my face in his chest, I realized how good he looked.

Between his curly blonde hair in a sweaty mop on top of his head and his bright blue eyes piercing mine as he towered over me, there was no denying he was handsome.

But he also looked tired. Dark, hollow circles shadowed under his eyes, his bag was on the ground open and disorganized next to him, and his shirt was wrinkled.

“So, about falling for hockey guys? Does that include me?” He joked.

“Ugh. You heard that?” I flushed, warmth flooding my cheeks.

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something between us.

Last year, I was finally in charge of running my own social media account, which is how Austin and I got to know each other better.

We were close in age, and it was nice to see that he always respected my position.

He was always willing to make content, and as one of the youngest players on a pro NHL team, he was popular on social media.

Then we grew closer when Austin found out about Ledger and his mom hooking up.

I had thought we were friends, but after what happened at the retirement party, things became awkward between us.

He grew distant and stopped reaching out to me altogether.

When I tried to get him to make any type of content aside from group stuff, he’d tell me no, that I needed to pay him in order to profit off his face.

So, I was surprised he was standing in the lobby of the arena holding me and not running to whatever party he was always hosting at his apartment.

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head, realizing he was waiting for me to respond. “I didn’t...”

I didn’t know why I hesitated or why I was suddenly nervous.

Logically, it made sense—I had just broken down in front of someone who didn’t particularly like spending time with me.

But deep down, it felt even more intense.

In front of Austin, I felt vulnerable, as if he had somehow stripped me bare and raw.

It was like he could see through all my defenses, and that scared me more than anything.

But Austin was just another guy on the team.

He’d get traded, and hopefully, I’d get more of a permanent position.

“I didn’t know you were here,” I finally said, completing my thought and diverting the conversation away from my embarrassment.

He gave me a slight smile, and I felt bad for freaking out.

“Sorry you had to see that. My boss just asked me to get her a coffee, and I think I lost it.”

His smile faded as he took a deep breath. “I saw the last few videos you posted go viral. I’m proud of you for connecting the hockey book world with the team.”

My heart swelled with pride. “Thank you. I wish everyone would feel the same way.”

He leaned closer to me, nudging me on the shoulder. “I see it, Nova. I always see you.”

The blush crept onto my cheeks, and I hated that whenever I got embarrassed, my face broadcasted it for everyone else to see. “Do you? See me? Because for the last year, you’ve been ignoring me.”

“I know.” He ran a hand through his curls. “I was a dick. It’s complicated. I’m complicated, and sometimes it’s easier to just let it go.”