Page 7

“Well, well, well.”Cade's grin is sharp enough to cut glass.“The captain lives.”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

“Considering Hart looked like she wanted to murder you in there.”Dash snorts.“Yeah.A little.”

I grab my water bottle from the bench, taking a long pull.“She's just...processing.”

“Processing what?”Cade asks with a raised brow.

“That she's immensely attracted to me.”I smile.I can't help myself.

“Wow.”Dash shakes his head.“You sure the injury wasn't to your head?”

I laugh.“Nah.She's playing hard to get.I left her hanging freshman year—now she wants me to work for it.It's a tactic.”

“Or,” Dash says flatly, not even turning around, “she genuinely wants nothing to do with you.”

“Impossible.The threats are real, but there's a very fine line between love and hate, and I'm pretty sure I could tip it.

Dash groans.“You’re going to get blacklisted.”

“Maybe.”I shrug.

Or maybe she’ll fall for me.Either way, the tape on my leg is tight, secure, and I swear I can still feel the heat of her hands through it.

And yeah.That’s not nothing.

Coach's whistle cuts through the air.“Last drill!Five-on-five scrimmage.Keep it clean, Cross—and I mean clean.No hitting.”

I push off toward center ice, Cade flanking me as Dash heads for the goal.

“For the record,” Cade says as we line up, “I've already made a bet with Dash.I give it two weeks before one of you snaps.”

“Two weeks until what?”

He grins.“Until you're either together or she's actually murdered you.Fifty-fifty odds, honestly.”

“Helpful.”

“That's why I'm here, captain.”He claps my shoulder pad.“To provide emotional support and running commentary.”

The puck drops, and I forget about everything else.My thigh, the pain, the way Ally's hands felt pressed against my skin.

Almost.

I don't remember the walk back to my dorm.

One second I'm storming out of the Crushers' rink, and the next I'm standing outside my door, keys in hand, wondering if I blacked out from sheer emotional whiplash.

That interaction with Jay isnotwhat I was expecting.Not only did he remember me, but he picked up right where he left off.Only now, his charm has improved.

I push my dorm door open, hoping I can push aside any Jay thoughts until I have to see him in three days.

Kinsey is sprawled across her bed, laptop propped on a pillow, giggling at something on the screen.Her dark curls are piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and she's wearing Wes's old Catfish jersey like a dress.

Well, that's more than I found her in last week.

“—and then Coach made Grayson run laps for twenty minutes straight,” a familiar male voice says through the speakers.“I've never seen a grown man cry over a burpee before, but there's a first time for everything.”