3. leo
THREE
leo
“ H ey, aren’t you joining us for breakfast?” Brax asks as he leans over a towering stack of pancakes drowning in syrup. The scent of warm butter and sweet maple syrup drifts through the house, mixing with the clatter of forks and plates.
“Not today,” I say, grabbing a protein bar so I can eat it on the way.
“Where are you headed so early?” Sloan asks while pouring more batter onto the smoking griddle. She can barely keep up with the guys’ voracious appetites, stacking pancakes as quickly as they consume them.
“To the rink,” I say, dodging the inevitable onslaught of questions from my roommates. The sooner I get out of here, the fewer explanations I’ll have to give.
“Again? I thought you were there last night?” Vale asks, leaning casually against the kitchen counter with his plate.
“I need to get in some practice time,” I say.
The problem with living with so many nosy people is that I can’t get a moment of privacy. Tate lives upstairs in the room next to mine, while Sloan and her sister, Jaz, live downstairs with their husbands, Brax and Vale. Living in this house is like being under constant surveillance. When we first moved in, it was chaos, but the good kind. Late-night debates over hockey stats, trash-talking over video games, and family-style team dinners around the table. Most days, the noise is a comfort—a subtle reminder that I’m never really alone. But today? It feels suffocating.
“Isn’t today your first day of community service with the skater?” Tate asks from the table, his grin wide enough to make me want to throw something.
“Yep,” I mutter. “I’m about as thrilled as someone who’s just come down with food poisoning.”
I didn’t tell anyone about running into Victoria last night—or how Coach showed up and caught us both off guard. Thankfully, her dad bought my excuse without pressing too hard. I told him I’d arranged the meeting to let Victoria know about my community service assignment.
I drag a hand through my hair. “I’d rather scrape gum off the bottom of the arena seats than spend a minute with that woman. It’s bad enough that I have to skate with her, but if it’s my ticket back onto the ice, I’ll suck it up. Just don’t let the rest of the team find out, okay? The last thing I need is Rourke teasing me mercilessly about changing careers.”
“If it’s any consolation,” Sloan says from the griddle in the kitchen, “she probably feels the same.” Sloan coaches university skaters, but she’s never acted like the typical ice skater.
“Why would working with me be a punishment?” I ask. “I’m the one who got in trouble, not her.”
“Figure skaters don’t get respect from other athletes because they don’t think skating is a real sport.”
“It’s a valid argument,” I say. “They’re basically glorified dancers.”
Sloan lifts an eyebrow in warning. “And skaters think hockey is a barbaric sport.”
“She’s not wrong,” Vale says with a shrug.
Sloan turns to me and crosses her arms. “No matter what your differences are, the only way to get along is to treat each other’s sport with respect. And that means getting over yourself.”
“Yeah, well, that’s impossible,” I say. “Not with an attitude like hers. The fact that we dated doesn’t help.”
Just then Jaz walks in, and her eyes widen. “Are you talking about that skater? How did I not know you dated her?” She sets her hands on her hips, looking equal parts scandalized and deeply offended. Jaz hates being the last to know.
“Because I never thought I’d see her again,” I confess. “When Coach Jenkins took over the team, I didn’t want to know if she was still in Sully’s Beach. It was easier to avoid mentioning her name—or our history.”
“Who broke it off first?” Brax asks, stealing the last pancake from the serving platter.
I’d dropped a few hints to my roommates that Victoria and I had a history back in college, but I never mentioned how deep it ran. I was all in for that woman, ready to drop everything for her, until the day she ended it without a word of explanation.
“She did,” I say, “with a text message.”
Tate winces. “Yikes. Was it at least a long text, or did she just hit you with a ‘k, bye’?”
“Does it matter now?” I grab my bag and a hoodie, brushing off their stares. What happened before doesn’t change anything—not when I know exactly how to get out of this. “The Ice Queen can’t stop me from completing my community service hours. I’m getting back on the ice, no matter what.” I sling my bag over my shoulder. “I bet Victoria won’t last a week with me.”
Vale lifts an eyebrow. “You sound pretty confident about that.”
“Let’s just say I know how to get under her skin,” I say. “I guarantee she won’t make it ten weeks before calling it quits. What’s her daddy going to do then? He’ll have to let me return to the ice.”
“Or give you more community service,” Brax warns.
I shake my head. “Anything will be easier than her.”
Vale picks up a few plates and takes them to the sink, grinning. “I don’t know, Leo. If there’s anyone who might not last, I think it’s you.”
“I can outlast Victoria,” I state flatly. I already know I’m not backing down, though, honestly, I’d rather join the Ice Capades than work with her.
“Big talk,” Tate says. “Think she’d agree with you?”
“I don’t need her to agree,” I say, heading for the door. “I just need her to quit first.”
Brax leans back in his chair. “You think you can push her that far?”
“I know I can,” I say. “Ask me in a week.”
Tate smirks. “What if she turns the tables on you?”
“Not going to happen,” I say over my shoulder before leaving. “Trust me, this isn’t a game I’m planning to lose.”