Puck Me, I’m Yours (Hawthorne University Hockey #1)

19. Breck

19

Breck

The rink is cold, but that’s nothing new. I love it here, the low hum of the blades cutting through the ice, the thud of pucks against the boards. It feels like home. But tonight? Tonight’s different.

I stand by the bench, helmet in hand, eyes scanning the rink for her. It’s almost like a reflex now, looking for Del, always hoping to catch a glimpse of her before I catch myself. But this time, I don’t just want to see her. I want her to look at me the way does when I’m buried deep inside her, the way I know she can when she finally stops running from whatever it is she’s afraid of.

We’ve been texting a lot more lately—talking longer than we probably should, but it still feels like something’s missing. One minute, she’s laughing at my stupid jokes, and the next, she’s pulling away like she’s still unsure what to do with me. I get it. She’s been through hell, and I’m trying my best to be patient. But I can’t help wanting more. More of her. More of whatever this thing between us is.

I push the thought away, focusing on the ice in front of me. It’s too easy to get lost in the uncertainty, to let it mess with my game. But I can’t stop myself from checking the door again, hoping she’ll walk in. She's never come to a practice before, so I'm not sure why I'm getting my hopes up.

Then I see her.

Del. My girl.

She’s in the stands, watching, her blonde hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that only makes her look more effortless. There’s a quiet strength in the way she leans forward, eyes fixed on the ice like she’s trying to absorb every move. It’s the same look she gets when she’s skating, that total focus, and damn if it doesn’t drive me crazy.

I catch her eye. She’s already looking at me, and that fucking smile of hers knocks the air right out of me. I can’t help it. I grin back, unable to hold it in. It’s ridiculous how happy just seeing her makes me.

I focus on the drill, trying to keep my head in the game, but it’s hard with Del sitting there, watching. Every pass, every shot feels like it’s for her, and I can’t shake the feeling that she’s always just out of reach.

As practice wraps up, I skate over to the door, stopping by the break in the bleachers where Del's sitting. My heart's racing, and it's not just from the workout.

"Hey, you," I say, leaning against the railing. "I thought I wasn’t going to see you until after practice."

Del shrugs, but there's a softness in her eyes that wasn't there before. "I thought this was as good a place as any to finish up my homework. Can’t beat the view."

I laugh, running a hand through my sweaty hair. "Oh, so that's how it is? Just here to enjoy the view, huh?"

"You caught me," she deadpans, but there's a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Can’t blame a girl for appreciating the scenery."

God, I love it when she plays along. It's like catching glimpses of a Del that not many people get to see.

"Well, in that case," I lower my voice conspiratorially, "I should probably take you out tonight. You know, to make sure I’m top of mind and all that."

Del raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? And how exactly would that work?"

I grin, leaning in closer. "Well, I figure if I keep you distracted, you can't start flirting with my teammates and lining up my replacement."

She laughs then, a real laugh that lights up her whole face, and I swear my heart skips a beat. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," I admit. "But it got you to laugh, didn't it?"

There's a moment of silence, and I can see the wheels turning in Del's head. I hold my breath, hoping I haven't pushed too far.

I watch as Del's expression softens, her green eyes meeting mine with a warmth that makes my chest tighten.

"Alright, Monroe," she says, her voice quieter now. "You win. I'm all yours tonight."

The words send a jolt through me, and I have to remind myself to breathe. "Great," I manage, probably a bit too enthusiastically. "I'll, uh, see you after I hit the showers then?"

She nods, and I reluctantly tear myself away, heading towards the locker room. As I walk, the reality of our upcoming schedules hits me hard. Del's gonna be gone soon, first for Sectional finals, then all the way to Poland for the Warsaw Cup. The thought of not seeing her for weeks makes my stomach churn.

I push open the locker room door, the familiar smell of sweat and gear filling my nostrils. As I start to strip off my practice jersey, guilt creeps in. I haven't been able to make it to any of Del's competitions yet, and now I'm going to miss two of her biggest.

"Get it together, Monroe," I mutter to myself, shoving my gear into my bag with more force than necessary. "She doesn't need you there. She's got this."

But even as I think it, I know it's not about whether she needs me. It's about wanting to be there, to support her, to see her in her element. To show her that she matters to me, beyond just stolen moments between practices and games.

I glance to my right and spot Axel, hunched over his phone, looking like someone just told him his dog died.

“Hey, Sin, you good?”

Axel's head snaps up, his eyes unfocused. "Huh? Oh, yeah... I'm fine."

I raise an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. "Dude, you look about as 'fine' as I did after that puck to the face last season."

He lets out a humorless chuckle, then hesitates. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," I say, leaning down to unlace my skates.

Axel takes a deep breath. "How'd you get Del to give you a chance? You know, after... well, after you fucked up?"

The question catches me off guard, and I pause. “Honestly? I didn’t give up. I made a small gesture and just waited. I showed her I was serious, but more importantly, I gave her the space she needed until she was ready.”

He nods slowly before he looks back down at his phone. "Look," I say, grabbing a towel and heading toward the showers. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that actions speak louder than words. Show her you're sorry for whatever you did, but don't push too hard. Sometimes, you gotta let them come to you."

I step into the shower, letting the hot water pound against my muscles as I try to sort out my thoughts. We need to talk about this, about how we're going to handle the distance and the competing schedules. But how do I bring it up without making her feel pressured?

As I towel off and get dressed, I make a decision. Tonight isn't about logistics or guilt. It's about making the most of the time we have. I'll find a way to be there for her, even if I can't be there physically. For now, I just want to see her smile again.

I exit the locker room, my heart racing as I spot Del waiting for me. Her blonde waves cascade over her shoulders, and those intense green eyes lock onto mine. God, she's beautiful.

I don't even think. I just move, pulling her into my arms and capturing her lips with mine. She tenses for a split second before melting into the kiss, her arms wrapping around my neck. When we finally break apart, I rest my forehead against hers, breathless.

"Hey," I say, my voice a little hoarse. "Ready to get out of here?"

Del nods, a small smile playing at her lips. "Definitely. Where to?"

I take her hand, relishing the warmth of her fingers intertwined with mine. "How about that little ice cream place off campus? I could use something sweet.”

I pull her closer, wrapping my arms around her, burying my face in the soft curve of her neck, inhaling the scent of her hair. “And then we can go back to my place for my real dessert," I murmur, the words muffled against her skin.

As we walk to my car, I can't help but marvel at how different everything feels with her. The usual post-practice noise fades away, replaced by a comfortable silence that wraps around us like a cocoon.

"You okay?" Del asks, her brow furrowing slightly. "You seem... quiet."

I squeeze her hand gently. "Yeah, I'm good. Just thinking about how much has changed since I met you."

She raises an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Oh? How so?"

I chuckle, running my free hand through my hair. "Before you, my life was just hockey and noise, you know? But now... there's this quiet. This peace I didn't even know I needed."

Del's cheeks flush slightly, and she looks away. "Breck, I—"

"Hey," I interrupt softly, stopping to face her. "I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. I know you're not ready for... well, everything. And that's okay. You're worth the wait, Del."

She meets my gaze, vulnerability flickering in her eyes. "But what if I'm never ready?"

I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Then we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, let's just enjoy tonight, okay?"

Del nods, a genuine smile spreading across her face. "Okay. Ice cream. And then dessert."

She winks and I throw my head back and laugh. I know we've got a ton to talk about—her upcoming competition, my away games, the whole long-distance thing looming over us—but right now, all I want is to savor this moment. To be just Breck and Del, two college kids on a date. As we continue walking, I push aside thoughts of missed competitions and conflicting schedules. Tonight, I just want to get lost in her company, in the quiet peace she brings to my chaotic world.

The drive to the ice cream parlor is quiet, but it's a comfortable silence. I hold Del's hand the whole way, occasionally bringing it to my lips to kiss her knuckles. Each time I do, I feel her relax a little more.

"You know," I say, glancing at her, "your hands are surprisingly soft for someone who spends so much time lacing skates."

Del rolls her eyes. "It's called lotion, Breck. You should try it sometime."

"Nah, I like my hands rough. Makes it easier to grip my stick."

"Is that what you call it?" she quips, and I nearly choke on my own spit.

We find a quiet booth in the back of the parlor, tucked away from prying eyes. As we dig into our sundaes—cookies and cream for her, rocky road for me—we fall into easy conversation about everything and nothing.

"So," I say, licking my spoon, "what's the craziest thing that's ever happened to you during a performance?"

Del thinks for a moment. "Well, there was this one time in juniors when my costume started coming undone mid-spin. I had to finish the routine while basically holding myself together."

I wince. "Ouch. Wardrobe malfunction on ice? That's rough."

"Could've been worse," she shrugs. "At least I didn't fall."

As we talk, I notice Del slowly letting her guard down. Her posture softens, her laughs come easier. And then, like some kind of miracle, she leans in, resting her head lightly on my shoulder.

My heart stutters in my chest. It's not much—just a brief moment of contact—but to me, it feels monumental. This guarded, focused girl who's been hurt before is letting me in, one small step at a time.

I wrap my arm around her, careful not to disturb the moment. "You good?" I ask softly.

She nods against my shoulder. "Yeah," she murmurs. "I'm good."