Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
JESSIE
I t’s been a week of this—me absolutely killing it on the ice. I’m the first to arrive and the last to leave practice sessions. Unleashing my game has never felt so natural.
Especially when I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol since the night Mia turned up at my apartment with flowers. It’s easy to break the habit when the reason you chose to drink is remedied by the return of the greatest thing to happen in your life. Mia doesn’t just numb my pain or make me feel like life is worth living. She makes me want to live the best life I can. Not just for her and for us, but for me too. I just hope I can keep holding it together when the difficult times inevitably find me.
We’re right in the middle of a power play when our center steals the puck, passing it straight to me. We’re deep in the third period and zero to zero at home with Colorado. We need this win to stay within our playoff hopes, and so does the opposition. The game has been tight all night, neither side giving an inch.
I assess my options; there’re at least three defenders between me and the goal as I travel with the puck down the right wing. I can wait for backup or take them on myself.
“Bring it.” Zach’s words repeat in my mind.
When I slow my speed slightly, it gives one of our forwards a chance to catch up with the play. But I’ve zero intention of sending him the puck. His assist in this goal will be as a decoy.
I take the Colorado center out when I cut inside and open up my body, faking to pass with an inside move. He takes the bait and positions himself, ready to intercept the puck, giving me the perfect chance to spin away and hit the jets, sending the crowd a few decibels louder.
Maybe the last two defenders think I’m at top speed when they come barreling toward me, one on either side and ready to take me out.
Their assistant captain makes the first mistake, driving in to steal the puck, but he only finds his ass when I throw a backhand to forehand move.
Kind of humiliating.
I take out their captain with a slip straight through his legs. Powering away from him, I hit top speed as I set eyes on their goalie. I can’t remember the last time I traveled with the puck at this kind of speed; my hazy brain has never been able to keep up. But today, I see it all unfold in front of me. I know exactly what the goalie is going to do as he backs away toward the net and hits the splits, showing his cards first.
Tucking the puck away upstairs, I hit the brakes just before I hit the boards, sending a wave of ice up in front of the crowd.
I turn to see Zach and the rest of the team flying toward me, his stick tucked under his arm and fist outstretched to congratulate me on what I know is the finest goal of my career so far.
“I have never in my fucking life seen anything like that move. I mean, where the fuck did that come from?!” Zach screams at me, throwing an arm around my shoulders.
I pull out my mouthguard and look at him. “Her.”
Just before he skates off, he nudges me in the chest with his glove and winks. “Well, whatever she’s doing, tell her your captain orders more of it.”
Skating down the bench, I bump fists with each player, but come to a halt when Coach grabs me by the forearm.
He leans in, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know what’s changed in you, Callaghan, and I’m not about to ask questions. In ten seconds of gameplay, you just answered years of doubt. That move will be replayed for decades to come. Now give them more material.”
That’s exactly what I do for the remaining ten minutes, securing a hat trick for me and a shutout for Jensen.
“Fucking hero.”
“Top-tier decoy,” I reply to our rookie winger, O’Connor, and clamp a hand on his shoulder as I walk through the locker room and head toward my bench.
“Crazy Callaghan.” Jensen shakes his head at me, awe on his face as he pulls off his helmet and dumps himself down next to me. “I’ll be the first to admit that I knew you were good, but—fuck me, kiddo—that”—he points toward the ice on the other side of the locker room door—“was a fucking master class. A work of art.” He shakes his head and leans down to untie his laces. “Poetry in goddamn motion.”
“Thanks,” I casually say, reaching behind and pulling my jersey overhead.
Jensen’s head whips up as he stands in front of me and chuckles. “ Thanks ? Is that all you have to say? Our fans turned up tonight, expecting to see a hard-fought game between two teams battling it out for a playoff spot. Instead, what they— and the whole fucking world —got was a spectacle. That final period was …” He smiles proudly. “I don’t have the words right now to describe what it was.”
“Me realizing my potential—exactly what I should’ve been doing for years,” I offer.
Drawing his lip between his teeth, my best friend looks off to the side as Zach enters the room, heading straight for us.
Jensen quickly refocuses his attention back on me. “Don’t you even fucking think about turning tonight into a reason to hate on your past mistakes. That final period was a glimpse into what Jessie Callaghan is capable of. The world will be going feral over you right now, and so they should. Enjoy it, man.”
“There are actual bras on the ice right now.” Zach thumbs behind him, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “They’re throwing their underwear at you.”
“Don’t suppose any of them are lacy and dark blue?” My response is out before I can stop it, adrenaline loosening my tongue.
Zach’s brows furrow, and Jensen snickers.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb with this and say that was a reference to a forbidden someone.”
I nod, my high dropping a few notches. “Just wish she could’ve been there tonight to watch. With the girls in the family box, cheering me on.”
“Sucks ass,” Jensen acknowledges with the only appropriate response.
“I think it’s time we met the girl behind the game.”
Jensen looks at Zach. “What you got in mind?”
Zach casts a cautious glance around the room, every player is deep in animated conversation over tonight. “It’s well overdue, and Luna has been threatening to organize it for way too long. This coming Sunday is a day off and cheat day. How about a house party at ours on Saturday night? Just our group. We have enough space for everyone to stay over; even the twins can have their own room.”
Jensen looks at me, nodding his head in appreciation. “What do you say, superstar?”
I swipe a hand across my mouth, assessing the risk, which seems minimal. “I’ll talk to Mia.”
MIA
“Not just generational, Leo. Never been seen before, probably never will again.” Hugh points at the TVs above the bar as Tara sets a bowl of wings in front of me and takes a seat opposite me in the booth.
“I feel like I barely get to see you.” She side-eyes Leo, who’s still preoccupied with postgame analysis and Jessie’s insane hat trick.
I feel another surge of pride as I replay his first goal in my memory.
Taking a bite out of a wing, I shrug a shoulder. “Picked up extra hours at work, and I’ve been living in the library.”
She cocks her head to one side, throwing me a look. “Bullshit.”
“What’s bullshit?” Leo cuts Hugh off mid-flow and looks at us both.
I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as I scramble for an answer.
“Oh, Mia thinks she’s going to fail the journal critique assignment we just submitted,” Tara responds.
I could reach across the table and kiss her for saving me twice in the past couple of weeks.
With his hands folded together and his elbows resting on the table, Leo leans down to the side, bringing his mouth closer to me, and I feel the way his breath fans my ear. “You’re way too smart to fail anything, Mia.”
His compliment should please me, but somehow, it doesn’t feel sincere.
“Thanks,” I push out.
Tara looks between us both, her brows slightly raised. Maybe she can tell I’m uncomfortable.
“Tara! I’ve got orders stacking up over here!”
She looks over at her manager and jumps up from the booth, straightening out her skirt before rushing off, leaving me alone with the boys.
Call me suspicious, but when Hugh gets up from his seat and leaves the bar, making a fake-ass excuse that he forgot to submit the assignment I know he turned in, the fact that I’m alone with Leo feels all too convenient.
Discreetly, I shift a couple of inches away from him, trying to put some space between us.
Leo does the same, closing the distance I created. He unfolds his hands and drops his right one onto the cushion between us. “Tara’s right though. Feels like I haven’t seen you much since that night at Riley’s.”
I smile at him innocently. “Like I said, I’ve been really busy.”
Leo clears his throat, the awkwardness unbearable. “I get that; what with trying to balance hockey and studying, there isn’t much personal time left for me.”
He pauses and brings his right hand around my lower back. I want to pull away from the contact; instead, I freeze, shocked at how forward he’s being.
“What time I do have, I want to spend more of it with you. Just you, Mia.”
Frantically, I scan the room. Half desperate for Tara to rescue me, half hoping no one has seen us. But Tara is nowhere to be found, and the bar has emptied out since the game ended an hour ago.
I turn back to Leo and sit forward on the bench, breaking the contact above my ass. “I’m not looking to get into anything with anyone right now, Leo.”
“Okay, well, we could still have a lot of fun. I’ve liked you for a while now,” he says, bringing his hand back to my ass.
Touch me once without my permission, and I’ll be shocked. Touch me twice, and I’m pissed.
Grabbing my bag and jacket from the floor beside me, I stand from the booth. “Look,” I say, running a stressed hand through my hair, “I said I didn’t want to get into anything. I’m just looking for friendship.”
Leo narrows his eyes as he looks up at me from the booth. “You’ve been sending me mixed signals for months. Now you blow me off?”
I throw my hands up in front of me. What the fuck is this guy on? “I’ve done nothing to make you think I wanted anything more than your friendship. Whatever you’ve read into us is on you.”
Leaning back into his seat with a thud, he dismisses me with a condescending wave.
I should really drop it and walk away. But this guy just pushed all my feminist buttons.
With my palm braced on the table in front of me, I lean closer to ensure only Leo can hear me as he continues to refuse eye contact. “Let me offer you some advice for future reference, Leo. Next time you try to impress a girl, wait until after you’ve got her in your bed before admitting you’re a dickhead.”
I stalk out of the bar, pushing through the door and out into the mid-February air. I’m terrible at confrontation, and my heart hammers in my chest the entire walk back home.
When I pull out my keys, the lights from my dorm building come into view just as a bus heading into town pulls up along the sidewalk, and a couple of students board, scanning their passes as they find seats.
Chances are, Jessie is heading straight to Riley’s after tonight’s win, but there’s also a chance he isn’t. I look down at the key he gave me, but never asked to have back …
Fuck it.