1. Chapter One #3
The guys don't understand. Liam and Aiden give me endless shit for not making a move. But I can't violate Sarah's trust — that's her life and her story, not mine. So, I take the chirping and keep her secrets, because that's what best friends do.
Even if it means knowing I'll never be able to take the open shot for the game-winning goal.
"Alright, Kevin," Lindy’s voice brings me back to the here-and-now. "Just natural. Talk to Peanut. Make her comfortable."
I look down at the nervous beagle. "You're doing great, Peanut. I know this is scary, but Sarah wouldn't have brought you here if she didn't think you could handle it. She's smart like that. Picks up on things other people miss."
The camera clicks.
"She sees the best in everyone. Even when they don't see it in themselves."
Click.
"And she fights for what she believes in. Doesn't matter if it's hard or if people tell her she can't do it. She just...does it anyway."
Click.
I'm not even looking at the camera anymore. I'm looking at Sarah, who's across the ice talking to Paige about something, completely unaware that I'm basically confessing my feelings to a beagle while a photographer documents it.
"Got it!" Lindy announces. "Those are perfect, Kevin."
"Great." I stand up, and Peanut actually follows me without pulling on the leash. Progress.
The rest of the session flies by. Josh is pretending to fall asleep, sprawled across the crease, with Biscuit nearby, the gentle golden retriever resting her head on his knee.
Graham’s teaching his new mutt bestie to fist-bump in front of the Stampede backdrop.
I can’t see Momo and Hercules, but it sounds like some kind of dog recess in the tunnel, so that has to be them.
And then it's time for Ranger's feature shots.
Barb Powell, the rescue's lead volunteer, brings him out in his custom Austin Stampede jersey with the number K9 on the back.
He knows he’s an influencer.
I’m not sure he realizes he’s not human.
"Okay, superstar," Sarah says, kneeling down to Ranger's level on the mat. "This is your moment. You ready?"
Ranger woofs and wags his entire body.
Sarah looks up at me. "Want to do these with him? It'll probably help him focus. And since you're his person, it'll feel more natural for the camera."
What I want is to be her person. For her to keep looking at me like that. Like I matter. Like I'm not just the guy who adopted her favorite foster dog eighteen months ago.
"Yeah. Of course."
We spend the next hour getting shots of Ranger in various locations.
Paige has planned this part carefully — they want content for social media, the calendar, promotional materials, everything.
There's even a series where they open the door to the bench area and Ranger sits there, mixed in with several of us, in his jersey like he's part of the team, which honestly isn't far from the truth given how often he's here.
The real magic happens when Sarah suggests I take Ranger out onto the ice itself.
"I know he's done this before during your off-season training," she says to me, then looks at Lindy and Paige. "What if we get him actually on the ice?
Paige's eyes light up. "Yes. That's perfect. Can he handle it? That's the shot that's going to get shared to every social media feed around. I bet we could send it over to the league and the PA and see if they’d share it on their socials too. Kevin, do you think he can handle it?"
"Ranger's part Lab, part show-off," I tell them. "He'll be fine."
The photography team set up lights at ice level, and I walk Ranger out onto the surface in his jersey.
He's cautious at first — he hasn’t been out here since last season — but then he quickly remembers how to find his footing and actually seems to enjoy it.
Sarah can’t skate, so she stays by the bench, directing shots, while Lindy skates around us with the photographer, working shots from multiple angles.
"Kevin, can you skate with him?" Paige calls out. "Just slowly. We want the motion."
Having Sarah watch me skate with Ranger, both of us in Stampede gear, feels surreal and perfect and dangerous all at once. We do slow laps, Ranger trotting beside me on the ice, his jersey rippling slightly with movement. The lights catch us perfectly. The barn is the perfect backdrop.
"These are amazing," Lindy says, skating over to Paige and Sarah, holding up the camera. "Paige, you're going to lose your mind when you see these."
Paige looks at the camera screen and immediately lights up. "Oh my... Yes. This is exactly what we need. The engagement on these is going to be insane."
"Ranger's going to be famous," Sarah says, and there's pride in her voice. "He's come so far from that scared puppy I pulled from the county shelter."
"You did that," I remind her as I skate up behind Lindy. "You saved him."
"We saved him," she corrects, looking up at me. "I pulled him. You gave him a home. That's how it works. That’s why I do what I do. It’s a team effort. Sorta like hockey, but with fewer fights."
Around us, the team is packing up. Saying goodbye to their temporary dog companions. Tyler's trying to convince Sarah to let him adopt Hercules on the spot.
"You live in a one-bedroom apartment, Tyler," Sarah's telling him patiently. "Hercules needs a yard. And a family who's home more than you are during the season."
"I could make it work! I could move in with Josh. Lots of rookies move in with veterans.” He starts naming off every rookie who’s ever had such an arrangement. “Or Kevin. Kevin’s got a dog."
"He’s got a dog sitter, Momo," Aiden points out. "Maybe wait until you have your own dog shelter director."
“Well, Sarah, could you watch Hercules too?” Tyler looks devastated, but he kneels down to give Hercules one last hug.
“Momo.” Aiden rolls his eyes and uses his captain tone of voice. “Sunshine’s got dibs on that one. You’ll need to put this requirement in your Tinder profile.”
"Alright, boys," Paige announces. "Great work today. Calendar's going to print late next week, and about a week after that, we'll roll out the social media campaign. This is going to do amazing things for the rescue."
There's a round of applause, and Sarah looks genuinely emotional. "Thank you. All of you. This means more than you know."
"Anything for Ranger," Graham says, and everyone laughs.
But I catch the way Liam's watching me watch Sarah. The way Aiden's got that knowing smirk. The way even Josh raises an eyebrow when Sarah's hand lingers on my arm a second too long while she's thanking me.
They know.
They all fucking know.
Maybe they’re all right. Maybe I should figure out how to take a chance and tell her.
As everyone starts to head out, Sarah begins loading dogs back into crates. I move to help her, grabbing the water bowls.
"You don't have to do that," she says. "You've done enough."
"I want to."
Even though I want to say more, I don’t. The silence while we work is comfortable — because that’s how our friendship is — but I wish I didn’t have to bite my tongue.
"Kevin," she says finally. "Thank you. For pushing Paige to make LSP the charity partner this year. I know you had a lot to do with it."
"It's a good rescue. You do good work."
"Still. You sit on the board and contribute meaningfully there, you’ve helped us out so much financially when we’ve needed it on projects, and now this huge opportunity. It means a lot." She closes the last crate, then turns to face me. We're standing close. Closer than friends probably should.
"Sarah—" I start, but I don't know how to finish that sentence.
What would I even say?
I find reasons to text you every single day?
I look for you in the crowd at every game?