ELLIE
“Can I help you?”
I snap my head up from my phone to see a woman—long brown hair, and team logo stitched on the breast of her coat—walking towards me. She’s carrying a box, which she sets down on the floor as she beams at me.
The taxi dropped me off ten minutes ago and I’ve been loitering awkwardly ever since, convinced that Mike will eventually appear from the double doors six feet away.
All I need is a quick chat, face-to-face, before I get the train home.
“I’m, uh, waiting for someone,” I say, slipping my phone away and returning the smile awkwardly.
She cocks her head to the side, a smile forming on her lips.
“Who are you waiting for?” she says.
I delay my response, wondering if me showing up at Mike’s rink will cause trouble for him. What if there’s a strict ‘no visitors allowed’ policy and here I am, lurking like a super fan?
But she’s waiting for me to reply.
“Mike Betts,” I say. “Uh, Bettsy.”
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but I didn’t expect her face to light up in the way it does. Her smile widens, and she steps forward a pace, almost squealing with delight as she speaks.
“You’re Ellie, right?”
Oh, crap. She knows who I am.
“Um, yeah,” I say.
She stoops to pick the box up.
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says. “I’ve heard so much about you—and I’m—oh, sorry.” She holds out a hand, balancing the box on her hip with considerable effort. “I’m Jen. Do you want to come inside and catch the end of practice? ”
I stare at her, wondering if she’s kidding—waiting for her to laugh. But her expression remains warm and neutral, and I take a second to realise she’s serious. She’s deadly serious.
“P-practice?” I say.
“Yeah,” she says. “They’re almost done but?—”
“Practice … like the team practice?”
“Yeah,” she says, a chuckle following. “The guys are great. And I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you.”
And the anxiety that’s been simmering just below the surface kicks up a notch—teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
There’s no way I can go in there and see practice. How many players are on a team? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? I mean, meeting Hutch last night was nerve-wracking enough and there was just one of him. Imagine a whole…
“Come on, I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She gestures towards the double doors and moves towards them, swiping a keycard on a panel on the wall before pulling the door open and holding it ajar. “Are you coming?”
I flick my eyes between Jen and the door, then I look back at the pavement. An escape. A way out.
But then Mike’s grin surfaces in my mind and my stomach clenches.
Mike. Surely the moment of discomfort is worth it for Mike? Besides, I’m going to have to meet his teammates at some point and there’s a warmth about Jen that’s oddly familiar—welcoming in a way that quiets the nerves buzzing through me.
And before I know it, my legs are moving.
“I—I guess,” I say, and I follow her lead.
She leads me down an open corridor, past several rooms and notice boards, only stopping when we reach the players benches’ where she sets the box down at the far end before turning back towards me .
“Sorry, I should have warned you about the smell—I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”
I’d love to say I hadn’t noticed, but there’s a lingering stench in the air. Sweat and cold and—I turn towards the direction of the voices.
“I think they’re almost done, but—I see Bettsy there.” Jen points towards a cluster of guys on the ice.
I don’t spot him at first, but I see the group Jen’s referring to. Three guys on the blue line, waiting their turn. One of them says something and the others laugh, and that’s when Mike adjusts himself slightly, so I catch sight of him.
And that familiar feeling fills my stomach. The feeling I used to associate with severe dislike, but now, I couldn’t imagine it being anything other than the complete opposite.
My stomach twists—like it’s turning upside down and around—and my pulse thunders in my ears.
I lock my attention on Mike, and without warning, he bursts into action, skating hard and fast across the ice towards the opposite blue line, skidding to a halt before doubling back.
“Are you okay?” Jen says. “You look a little pale. Is it the cold? Do you need?—”
“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m fine, really. I think I had a little too much coffee,” I say.
“Here, come and take a seat,” she says, stepping over the bench and settling down.
I do the same, perching right on the edge of my seat, ready to spring up at a moment’s notice. Jen, on the other hand, is clearly a natural in this environment. She’s calm, unfazed, and positively in place. And she chats to me like she’s known me all my life. It’s comforting.
“Have you met any of the other guys yet?”
“Just Hutch,” I say.
Jen nods. “That’s Danny there, and that’s Johnny—the captain. And that’s … my husband, Ryan. Gosh, I still can’t get used to saying that. ”
“Have you been married long?” I ask.
“Long enough for me to be used to it by now. We had a quick wedding, and see Liam there,” she points. “That’s Ryan’s twin brother. He’s due to get married in four weeks’ time and Vicky—his fiancée is hoping we can have a joint party or something.”
“Oh, wow. That sounds incredible,” I say, beaming at her.
“Yeah, well—oh,” she claps her hands together and turns to face me “I hear you’re a hairdresser. You must come and do trials for Vicky and me. Honestly, I’m crap with things like that. And Vicky had a falling out with her stylist over God knows what?—”
“Kitch,” Mike’s voice booms through the air, causing Jen and I turn towards the ice. “Kitch—what are you doing here?” He skates over to the bench, beaming as he glides. He comes to a stop, leaning over and plucking a water bottle from the space below. “Is everything okay?”
I hesitate, looking between Mike and Jen for a second before she stands and shimmies down to the end of the bench, busying herself by rooting through the box she brought.
“I—I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,” I say. “I was going to wait outside for you but?—”
“Wait. You’re going?” he says, pulling off his helmet.
“Well, yeah. I know I was going to stay for a little while, but I did a lot of thinking this morning and I figured I can’t hide from my situation forever.
I need to talk with Kathryn—make sure she knows I’m not going back and—” I lower my voice.
“—and I need to ask her for my money back if I’m going to go at it alone. ”
Mike’s eyebrows knit together. “Money? What money?”
I open my mouth to answer, only to halt on my in-breath, because what seems to be the entire roster swarms in behind him, all casting curious and slightly too interested glances my way.
This is what I was afraid of.
“See, I told you,” Hutch says .
“Yeah, you’re right,” another voice says. “She’s too hot for you, Betts.”
My face flames red.
“Hey, move along boys, move along.” A blond guy—Johnny, I think—freshly de-helmeted, swings open the access door to the ice.
He ushers the guys off, one by one. They step off in turn, each of them casting me a glance as they go; creepy smiles on all their faces.
“Don’t mind them,” he says. “They don’t get out much.”
“Oh.”
“I’m Johnny,” he says. “Nice to meet you. I would shake your hand but … yeah, anyway.”
“Great to meet you,” I say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Yeah? I guess you know Kel, right?” he says.
“Yeah. It’s been a while, but I’m looking forward to catching up with her.”
Johnny looks towards Mike. “Yeah, Betts. We’ll have to set something up.”
I nod, trying to be enthusiastic but deep down I know that if Kelly knows, then Judith will know. And if Judith knows, she’ll also realise that I’ve been lying to her.
“Bettsy tells me you’re going with him to the Team GB event next week? Looking forward to it?”
“Sure, yeah, it’ll be fun,” I say.
He nods. “Well, I need to get going but, yeah. Nice to meet you.”
Johnny moves away, his skates thudding on the rubber flooring as he goes.
And then there’s just Mike on the ice and a couple of the coaching staff in the far corner of the rink, heads together, deep in conversation.
“I’ll be in the training room if you need me to show you out,” Jen says, passing me on the bench.
Mike steps off the ice and moves in close .
“You’re okay, right?” he asks. “Do you need me to come with you?”
“No, I’ll be fine,” I say, not sure if I will be, but forcing myself to go along with it, anyway. “But I didn’t want to leave without seeing you. I wanted to say thank you. For being there for me last night. I really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he says.
I look down at the floor, focusing on the small pools of water from the pairs of skates as they left the ice.
“But I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Mike says.
“Of course.” I pause, listening to my heart pound steadily in my chest.
Before I realise what I’m doing, I’m pushing myself onto my tip-toes, not flinching at the sweaty smell coming from him—because I’m far from repulsed.
In fact, there’s a heat that swarms my body and when my lips touch his, warmth spreads through me, deep and all-consuming.
A clammy hand comes to rest on my cheek, igniting the fire further.
And when I pull away, his expression tells me I’ve surprised us both.
“I, uh—” He stumbles on his words, coming to a halt instead of continuing.
“I really like you,” I say.
And he kisses me again.