Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
JACKO
Monday mornings at the rink are brutal.
Doesn’t matter how good the weekend was, or how mind-meltingly perfect it felt to wake up next to Maya and Lila this morning, all tangled sheets and pancake crumbs in bed, because the second I walk through those doors, Jonno and Coach become demons in whistle form.
“On the line!” Jonno’s voice echoes across the ice, sharp and unforgiving. “You lot moved like pensioners in quicksand yesterday. That ends today.”
Ollie groans beside me. “Remind me why we didn’t just fake food poisoning?”
I grunt, dragging my helmet on. “Because then he’d make us do twice the drills tomorrow.”
He nods solemnly. “True. Evil never sleeps.”
We line up for suicides, blades biting into the clean sheet of ice. It’s early, barely eight, but we’ve already done off-ice warmups, weight room circuits, and half an hour of tactical review. Now it’s time for the punishment portion of our regularly scheduled programming.
“Go!”
We sprint.
Skate to the blue line and back. Red line and back. Far blue and back. Full length. Again. Again.
By the third set, my legs are burning and my lungs are clawing for air like I’m drowning in invisible tar. Ollie wheezes beside me, muttering, “I hate everything,” under his breath.
“You say that every Monday,” I pant.
“And I mean it every time.”
Jonno blows the whistle again, and we collapse against the boards, chests heaving.
“Catch your breath. We’re running battle drills next,” Coach barks. “Pair up. I want full-contact zone work. You’re fighting for puck control like your life depends on it.”
Which, given our current playoff standings, isn’t far off.
I partner with Dylan first, which is basically asking to get murdered. The guy’s an animal on skates; fast, ruthless, built like a freight train. He checks me into the boards with enough force to rattle my teeth, and I bounce back up with a grimace.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Didn’t feel a thing,” I lie.
He grins. “Liar.”
We trade hits and poke checks for ten brutal minutes before switching partners. I end up with Murphy next, and we go harder. Not because we don’t like each other, we’re good, but because we know how to push. I need the edge, and he’s happy to give it.
By the end of the drill, my jersey’s soaked through, my shoulders ache, and my thighs feel like they’ve been filled with wet cement.
Jonno doesn’t care.
“One more round! Then we’ll do power play work.”
Ollie drops his stick and flops onto the ice like a dying fish. “Tell my family I love them.”
“You don’t have family,” Dylan says.
“Tell Jacko, then. He’s basically my common-law husband at this point.”
“Romantic,” I mutter, hauling him up.
The rest of the morning passes in a blur of drills, systems work, and skating until I’m seeing stars. Coach keeps barking about the away game this weekend, how we’ve got to treat it like a playoff scenario, how we can’t rely on home-ice advantage, how it’s time to lock in.
I’m trying to listen. I am.
But my mind keeps drifting back to Maya and Lila. To the way Lila curled up in my hoodie on the sofa last night, insisting I read The Gruffalo twice. To the way Maya tucked herself under my arm this morning while the kettle boiled, her sleepy smile still clinging to her lips.
I want them with me this weekend.
It’s a long drive to Manchester, and a two-night stay.
Not the most glamorous trip, but the hotel’s decent, and if I can get a suite, it’ll give them both space.
I’ve already cleared it with Jonno, he’s fine with me bringing them as long as I’m not distracted.
Which I won’t be. If anything, knowing they’re in the stands will sharpen my focus.
I’m still thinking about it when practice finally ends and we’re released like prisoners from hell. I strip down in the changing room, sweat-soaked pads hitting the floor with wet thuds.
Ollie flops onto the bench beside me, towel around his neck. “I think my soul left my body during those suicides.”
“Join the club.”
He leans over, lowers his voice. “Hey. Meant to ask, any more issues with the alarm?”
I shake my head. “Nothing since those couple of nights.”
He nods, but his brow furrows slightly. “How’s Maya feeling about it probably being a tamper?”
“Yeah. Didn’t want to worry her, but I was honest. She changed the locks the next day.”
“Good. You still want me to get Daz come by and check the system again? Make sure it wasn’t a glitch?”
I pause. Ollie’s not just one of my best mates, when the alarm went off a couple weeks ago and nothing seemed out of place, he offered to get his cousin in to help.
“Nah,” I say after a second. “It hasn’t triggered again, and we’ve been careful. Think it might’ve just been a bird or something that set off the motion sensor.”
“Alright. Just say the word if that changes. Daz got a new set of cameras we can bring over, super discreet.”
“Appreciate it.”
He grins. “What are common-law husbands for?”
I snort, tossing my towel at him. He dodges it, still smiling, but I don’t miss the flash of worry in his eyes. Ollie’s protective by nature, especially when it comes to kids. I think he’d go feral if anything ever hurt Lila.
So would I.
Once I’m dressed, I shoot Maya a quick text.
JACKO: Survived training. Barely. Thinking about this weekend, what if you and Lila came with us? Away game in Manchester. Hotel has a pool.
She replies almost immediately.
MAYA: Will there be room service pancakes?
JACKO: I’ll make sure of it.
MAYA: Then we’re in.
I grin like an idiot at my phone until Ollie peeks over my shoulder.
“Gross. You’re doing that thing where your face looks like a romcom poster.”
“Jealous?”
“Desperately.”
After we finish up media duties and film review, I head back to Maya’s. It’s just after two when I walk through the door, and the scent of warm chocolate hits me like a wall.
Lila’s at the kitchen counter with a smudge of batter on her nose, wielding a wooden spoon like a weapon. Maya’s beside her in one of my hoodies, licking chocolate off her finger and looking up with that same sleepy-smiley face from this morning.
“Hey, Bear,” Lila chirps. “We made brownies but they’re healthy ‘cause they have beans in them.”
“Beans?”
“Black beans,” Maya says, amused. “We found the recipe on one of your hockey websites.”
“I made them with LOVE,” Lila adds dramatically. “And also, with extra honey.”
“Guess I’m ruined for regular brownies now.”
She beams. “I’ll save you one. But you gotta share.”
I scoop her up and spin her around, ignoring the smear of chocolate she leaves on my shirt. “Deal.”
Once she’s back on her stool, Maya hands me a cup of tea and leans in to kiss me hello. “You look wrecked.”
“I am wrecked. Jonno tried to murder us.”
She smirks. “Better him than me.”
“Fair. Though if I die via muffin overdose, it’ll be your fault.”
“Go have a shower,” she says, patting my chest. “We’re baking again in an hour. Your protein bars for the team.”
“You’re actually helping me with those?”
“Yep. Lila insists on decorating them.”
“With glitter,” Lila says confidently.
I groan. “The guys are gonna kill me.”
True to her word, an hour later the kitchen is a scene of controlled chaos.
Oats, peanut butter, protein powder, seeds, and chopped dates cover every surface. Maya’s got her hair tied up and an apron that says Bake It ‘Til You Make It. Lila’s wearing a pair of fairy wings and keeps trying to sneak sprinkles into the mixing bowl.
“Not the glitter again, Jellybean,” I say, dodging a handful of star-shaped confetti.
“But it’s magic!”
“They’re going to think I joined a wizard cult.”
Maya snorts. “They’d believe it. You already have the hair.”
I roll my eyes but keep stirring, muscles aching from practice. There’s something oddly soothing about this, being here, baking with them, laughing over granola carnage and peanut butter mishaps. It’s domestic and ridiculous and perfect.
By the time we’re done, we’ve got two dozen neatly wrapped bars, half of which are decorated with childlike doodles in icing pens.
“These are for your friends, Diesel, Murph and Ollie,” Lila tells me solemnly. “But not the angry man who yells. He doesn’t get one.”
“Jonno?”
“Yeah. He scares my biscuits.”
I grin. “Mine too.”
Later that night, when Lila’s asleep and Maya’s curled against me on the sofa, I wrap an arm around her and press a kiss to her temple.
“You sure you’re up for this weekend? Long trip. Hotel chaos.”
She nods without hesitation. “I want to come. Lila’s excited too. She’s packed.”
“Already?”
“Three books, four stuffed animals, a tiara, and the skates you got her from the rink.”
I laugh softly. “That makes sense.”
Maya lifts her head, eyes soft. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“This. Us. The way it’s all fitting together.”
I think about practice, about Ollie’s concern, about the burning in my legs and the exhaustion in my bones. Then I look at her, at the calm in her face, the steady heartbeat under my palm, and I nod.
“Yeah. It’s really fucking good.”
And I’m going to fight like hell to keep it that way.