Epilogue
APRIL
My boyfriend is Chance McLanely.
The Chance McLanely.
He’s the one on the ice that looks like Prince Eric in hockey gear.
A roar goes up from the crowd, and I quickly pull my attention away from Chance. That noise means someone did something with the puck. I try to find the little rubber thing sliding around the ice.
Where… where… ah. Finally, I find it in the Lucky Striker’s net.
“Come on!” Rebel screams, throwing her hands up and getting to her feet. “Defense!”
“Defense!” I mimic her, feeling the crowd’s excitement. I’ve learned that screaming is an important part of the game and I do try to participate. I take my girlfriend responsibilities seriously, although I still don’t understand half of what happens on the ice.
Chance, bless his big, generous… heart has tried his best to explain. He really has.
But I’m a lost cause.
“Come on, Watson!” Rebel yells and points.
“That wasn’t Watson’s fault.” Gordie, the little girl who lent me her blanket at my first hockey game, steps on top of her chair and plants her hands on her hips. She stares Rebel down. “McLanely totally missed that pass.”
“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s not jump on Chance here,” I say.
Gordie shakes her head as if I’m an utter disappointment and returns to watching the game intently. “Let’s go, daddy!” she screams.
“Go, Chance!” I yell. “Don’t let them get you!” Leaning toward my best friend, I ask over the deafening roar of the crowd, “Which one is trying to get him?”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” she teases, patting my cheek.
I laugh.
Rebel trains her eyes on the rink. “Oh look, the coach is taking Gunner out of the game.” My best friend puts her hands around her mouth and whoops in celebration.
I arch an eyebrow at her. “You’re not supposed to be cheering along with the rival team, you know.”
“Really? Whups.”
I keep staring at her face.
Rebel tosses her hair casually over her shoulder. “What?”
“What’s going on between you and Gunner? Why do you hate him so much?”
“Who says I hate him?” Rebel counters.
I consider how to answer that question. I’ve never noticed before because we don’t really hang in the Kinsey’s circles but, now that I’m dating Chance, Rebel and I spend a lot more time around the team.
Every time we run into Gunner at The Tipsy Tuna, Rebel feigns some kind of illness and immediately leaves. The rare times I can convince her to stick around, she smiles and chats with everyone except him.
My best friend is a social butterfly, so it’s pretty obvious when she’s giving someone the cold shoulder.
I shake my head because now is not the time for a discussion about Gunner and Rebel.
Chance has control of the puck and I’m, at once, entranced. He moves as fast as lightning and as graceful as a gazelle. It’s incredible the poise he has on the ice. As someone who still has a hate-hate relationship with ice skating, it amazes me how he handles himself on those skates… while chasing down a puck the size of a beef patty.
Speaking of the puck, where did it go again?
I whip my head back and forth until I locate the center of the action. Chance passed the puck to one of his teammates, Theilan—I think his name was.
Theilan gets into position, passes back to Chance, and circles around. I watch as Chance moves his hockey stick like I do when I’m scrambling eggs. It’s so fast that I don’t even realize he’s making a shot until he sends the puck skittering into the net.
“Yeeeeess!” I scream. Along with most of the arena.
Chance continues to play amazingly, along with Gunner who’s soon put back on the ice. The Lucky Strikers win over their opponents who, I’ll admit, fought valiantly. But not as valiantly as we did.
Chance’s teammates huddle together, celebrating Gunner who delivered the winning shot. Finally, Chance breaks out of the huddle and finds me in the crowd. His eyes brighten and he grins hard enough that I can see his teeth flashing beneath his helmet.
I wave happily.
Beside me, Gordie is also waving enthusiastically to her dad. It’s easy to tell Renthrow out of the pack, not only because of his massive size but because of the Hello Kitty sticker on his jersey. He’s also staring in our direction and waving at his daughter.
To my surprise, I notice Gunner looking over at us too.
It’s hard to tell for sure but… is he staring at Rebel?
I lose that train of thought when Chance skates off the ice. I know he’ll be looking for me in a short while so I give Gordie a hug goodbye, grab Rebel’s hand and drag her down the bleachers.
“Are you April?” A fan asks, waving to me. “Hi!”
“Hi!” I wave back. I’m slowly getting used to people recognizing me.
A young girl wearing a hockey jersey stops me. “Can I have a picture, April?”
I stop to take the picture and the little girl gives me a big hug. “I’m going to be a mechanic too when I grow up.”
“Aw! That’s so sweet!” Rebel coos.
“I think that’s awesome.” I wink at the girl.
She grins wide.
My heart full, I follow the flow of people until I get to the lobby that splits into two hallways—one leading to the exits and the other to the admin building.
Bobby is at the door, doing crowd control. He smiles warmly at me and nods from afar. Rebel and I wave back.
“This arena is getting a little small,” Rebel muses. “Max really needs to think about expanding. Especially now that Chance is a permanent part of the Lucky Strikers.”
“I heard he wants to use our architect, but he’ll have to wait in line. We asked for them to design our new garage first.”
Rebel snorts. “And you said you weren’t competitive.”
I laugh.
At that moment, I feel someone’s arms slide around my waist. At first, I stiffen in surprise and then look back to find Chance. He’s wearing a low baseball cap, a T-shirt and jeans.
“How are you here?” I hiss, glancing around at the crowds. Chance uses a separate exit after games or he’ll be bombarded.
Sometimes, he’ll host meet and greets with fans, but we have a date tonight.
“I couldn’t wait to see you,” he says low in my ear.
“That means you didn’t shower,” Rebel mumbles beside me.
I chuckle.
My best friend rolls her eyes, but a grin tugs at her lips. “You love birds are obnoxious. I’m dumping you on your boyfriend, April.”
“No, I’ll still ride with you,” I insist.
“So will I,” Chance says.
“You want me to watch you two being insufferably cute and in love all the way to The Tuna? No thanks.” Rebel wiggles her fingers at me.
“You’re still coming to The Tuna though?” I clarify.
“I’m a little tired,” Rebel says, her eyes darting to the side the way she does when she’s lying.
“Oh. Okay… I’ll text you,” I tell her.
“Night, Rebel,” Chance says without taking his eyes off me.
As we walk forward in the crowd, trying to blend in, I ask Chance, “Is Gunner coming to The Tuna tonight?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
I wonder if that’s why Rebel isn’t going. “Have you noticed a weird tension between Rebel and Gunner?”
“Not particularly.” He shrugs. “But it’s not like I’ve been paying attention.”
“Huh.”
A fan bumps into us and Chance lowers his baseball cap, ducking his head into my neck to remain incognito. I giggle as he presses a little kiss at my pulse point and swat at him.
“Behave, we’re in public,” I grumble.
He laughs.
By some miracle, we make it to the car without being mobbed by his excited fans. Chance climbs into his convertible after opening the door for me.
Immediately, he reaches for my hand and brings it to his lips. “What do you say we skip The Tuna and head straight to the library for some… reading?”
I laugh at the way he wiggles his eyebrows. “So I can get bonked in the head by another book? No thanks.”
The laugh lines around Chance’s mouth deepen as he smiles. I love those little lines. But to be fair, I love everything about him.
“Then where would you like to go? I don’t want to share you right now,” Chance says.
“Mm.” I run a finger down his arm. “How about you and I…”
“Yes?” He leans in.
“Go to the garage and you can help me fix the cruiser in the bay?”
Chance releases a long-suffering sigh. “Should have known. The only thought in your head is cars.”
“Not true. Forty-nine point nine percent is cars.”
“And the fifty-one point one percent?” Chance asks, a teasing smile on his lips.
“It’s… the new garage plans.”
Chance pouts. “So I don’t even get one percent?”
“Don’t be mad. There’s something you own one hundred percent of.”
“What?” He tilts his head, studying me in the moonlight.
I point to my chest, right above my heart. “Here.”
A smile blooms on his handsome face. In a beat, Chance tangles his hand in my hair and pulls me in for a long, breathless kiss.
After we come up for air, he fastens my seatbelt for me and takes my hand as we drive off into the night.
Thank you for reading Ice Mechanic.