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Chapter 6
Ryder
My breath comes out in white puffs, the only evidence of strain as I glide across the rink, ready for the puck to come my way. It's the first game since Jayden and I made our little deal, and my muscles thrum with a mix of adrenaline and something else, something new.
"Wolf!" The shout snaps me back just in time to see a blur of red and black hurtling toward me—a breakaway from the opposing team. Time slows, and instincts take over. One-on-one, it's just me against him, and I'm damn well not letting this puck find the back of the net.
He fakes left, but I don't bite—I know that dance. Right then, he fires off a shot, quick and low, but I’m faster and connect my stick to the puck a satisfying slap. Denied. I kick it to our center.
The crowd erupts, but their cheers are muffled under the pounding of my heart. Moments later, the other team’s offense is coming in my direction again. I race over and steal the puck and send it back to my offensive teammates. The arena goes wild.
"Yes, Wolf!" My teammate slaps my shoulder as we skate off for a line shift.
Breathing heavily, I plop down on the bench, grabbing my water bottle..
Jayden's face flashes before my eyes, her green gaze bright with challenge. Could she be the reason for this sudden turn in my luck? I've been called superstitious, but maybe it's not my stick that's cursed after all. Maybe it was me.
The thought tickles the back of my mind as I replay those saves, and a corner of my mouth lifts. There's no magic in hockey, just sweat, skill, and sometimes... someone who makes you want to believe in more.
I shake my head to clear the image of her freckled nose crinkled in laughter. Yet she lingers there, stubborn as I’m already coming to know her as in such a short time.
"Next shift, you're up," the coach barks, snapping me back to reality.
"Got it, Coach." I nod. Another save, another win—it's what I do. Seems like now, I've got someone other than myself to impress, even if it's just part of some playful arrangement. Yeah, Jayden might just be my new Good Luck Charm.
***
I push through the carved mahogany doors of the Match Me Bunny's mansion, the heavy wood giving way to a scene that reeks of wealth and pleasure. It's all crystal chandeliers and silk drapes, laughter tinkling over the clink of fine china and the pop of champagne corks. The air is thick with perfume and promise, but it feels like I'm wrapped in a damp towel, cold and clinging.
"Hello, Mr. Raines," a sultry voice purrs near my ear. I half-turn, offering a tight-lipped smile. The woman is stunning, but she's not Jayden. No one here is Jayden, and that fact feels like a lead weight in my chest.
"Evening," I mutter, sidestepping her advance with an ease born from too many nights like this. The crowd usually knows my name, my stats, but not a damn thing about me.
I find a secluded spot by a towering window, only to see a moonlit landscaped backyard. My hand tightens around a glass of Scotch I don’t remember accepting, the amber liquid untouched. I should be working the room for what I actually came here for. I’m supposed to be finding my possible forever person, but my mind is miles away, tracing the freckles on Jayden's cheeks like constellations.
It's absurd, how I keep replaying our last conversation, the sound of her laugh that's imprinted itself beneath my skin. We haven't even kissed, and yet, every inch of me yearns to know the taste of her lips, the feel of her breath mingling with mine.
"Ryder?" Another attempt at drawing me out, another face I don't care to focus on. I nod, vague and distant, my gaze sliding back to the window. A laugh escapes me, low and humorless. Here I am, surrounded by people who'd kill for a night to be in my shoes with this matchmaking opportunity, and all I can think about is a fiery-haired little woman that’s too bright for my own good.
"Are you okay?" The concern in the stranger's voice is almost touching.
"Perfect," I reply, voice devoid of warmth. The words are automatic, rehearsed, a shield to hide behind.
"Then why do you look like you're at a funeral?" She presses, but I only shake my head, dismissing her curiosity along with the rest of the charade tonight.
"Wrong kind of party," I say. I take a sip of Scotch, letting the burn slide down my throat, wishing it was enough to sear away the image of Jayden's smile from my mind. It’s not.
"Hey, if you’re not into this, why come?" she asks.
"Good question," I admit. The truth is, my feet brought me here, but my heart's back on the boardwalk with Jayden.
"What's her name?" The stranger's voice is softer now.
"Jayden," I confess. Saying her name aloud feels like a betrayal and a relief all at once.
"You really should go to her," she says, a knowing smile curling her lips.
Just like that, the decision is made. I set down the glass, the content still swirling, and walk out.
