AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Clutching a foam finger and wearing Ryder's jersey like a talisman, I'm more than ready to cheer him on—loudly, proudly as the puck drops on center ice.
"Go Renegades!" I shout.
Beside me, Mimi’s cheers are just as enthusiastic, and I’m glad she could be here with me today since I’m still uneasy about this whole Ryder situation that I caused by putting space between us.
There's Ryder, number seventeen, a force to be reckoned with—usually. Tonight though, his movements lack that signature fluidity, his checks are half-hearted, and his shots miss their mark with uncharacteristic regularity. It's hard to watch and sets my nerves on edge.
"Is it just me, or does Ryder seem... off?" I lean toward Mimi.
She squints at the ice, then nods slowly. "He looks like he's skating so slow."
I chew on my lower lip. He knows exactly where we're seated—same spot as always, close enough to see the tension in his jaw, the furrow of his brow beneath the helmet. Before, he'd sneak glances our way, a secret communication, his ice-blue eyes locking onto mine.
Tonight, not even one look comes my way.I really did fuck this up.
The game progresses, and I watch him push harder, fight fiercer, but the magic isn't there. The crowd senses it too; the energy dips in the rink.
"Maybe he's just having an off day," Mimi says during the second intermission.
"Maybe," I concede, though my gut tells me it's more than that.
By the time the final buzzer sounds, defeat hanging heavy in the air, I'm filled with a different kind of dread—not for the lost game, but for what it signifies. Ryder Raines doesn't just play hockey; he breathes it, lives it, loves it. To see him so disconnected from the game is to see him disconnected from himself. If he's pulling away from the sport that defines him, where does that leave us?
"Let's wait for him outside," she suggests.
"Okay," I agree, but I’m seriously hesitant.
I weave through fans. I'm on a mission to find Ryder before he vanishes into the night.
"Jayden, slow down," Mimi calls after me, but I can't. Every second feels critical, and my legs move with a purpose.
I reach his Jeep. Guilt pinches at my conscience for being so distant, for letting my own insecurities hurt what we've built.
He emerges from the crowd, his tall, muscular form unmistakable even in the sea of people. My pulse races, and I lean against his Jeep for support, trying to appear calm.
"Hey, Ryder," I begin. "Tough game tonight."
He barely acknowledges me, his eyes fixed on some faraway point. It's as if he's looking right through me, and the connection we once had feels as weak.
"Got stuff to do," he mumbles.
"Can we talk?" I ask.
Ryder pauses, his hand on the door handle, and for a split second, hope flares within me. Then he shakes his head, the corners of his mouth tightening. "Not now, Jayden. I can't."
His words slice through the thin veil of bravado I've been holding onto. He climbs into the Jeep, the engine roaring to life. The headlights flare, and then he's pulling away, leaving me standing there, alone and more lost than ever.
Chapter 14
Ryder
The chill from the ice crawls up through the soles of my skates, a cold comfort that usually centers me. Not today though. Today, the chill is just another reminder of how off my game is, how distant I feel from everything I'm supposed to be focusing on.
The opposing team's crowd is loud but still a dull buzz in my ears. My stick feels like it’s a fifty-pound dumbbell in my hands, and I wonder if Jayden's smile would've made it lighter. I push off, gliding into the fray, but my mind isn't on the puck or the play—it's tangled up with her, with us, and the mess we've been lately.
"Raines, eyes on the damn puck!" Coach barks from the bench. He should know better; I’m not myself tonight. I make a half-hearted jab at the puck, missing by a mile. A rookie mistake.
Jayden’s image flashes before me as another player slams into my side, jarring me back to reality.
