Chapter 16
Rachel
Rachel spent the rest of the week in a fog of her own making. Work. Home. Mr. Darcy. Books she couldn't focus on. The same dinner she'd eaten for the past four nights because thinking about food required more energy than she had.
Her phone stayed silent except for Sophie's occasional check-ins and one text from Ellie that said: Thinking of you.
No messages from Mac. Which was what she'd asked for. What she'd explicitly told him she needed.
So why did it hurt so much?
Friday came too quickly and not quickly enough. Rachel changed outfits three times, why did it matter what she wore to a hockey game where Mac wouldn't even see her?, before settling on jeans and a gray sweater that was warm but not trying-too-hard.
Mr. Darcy watched her from his perch on the bed, his orange tail flicking with what she interpreted as judgment.
"Don't look at me like that," Rachel told him. "I'm going to support local sports. That's all. This has nothing to do with Mac."
Mr. Darcy's expression clearly conveyed his disbelief.
"Okay, it has everything to do with Mac. But I'm going to sit in the stands and watch a hockey game like a normal person and then go home. That's it. No drama."
Mr. Darcy yawned, unimpressed with her life choices.
The Evergreen Cove Ice Arena was packed when Rachel arrived at 6:45, the stands already filling with families and teenagers and what looked like half the town. The air smelled like popcorn and ice, and the energy was electric, people excited for Friday night entertainment and hometown pride.
Rachel spotted Sophie immediately, sitting about halfway up in the middle section. Sophie waved enthusiastically, and Rachel made her way through the crowd, apologizing as she squeezed past knees and stepped over bags.
"You came!" Sophie hugged her before Rachel could even sit down.
"You're very persistent," Rachel said, but she was smiling despite her nerves.
"I know. It's one of my most charming qualities." Sophie handed her a bag of popcorn. "The game starts in ten minutes. Cole says it's going to be a good one, they're playing the Mountaineers, who are their biggest rivals."
Rachel looked down toward the ice and spotted Ellie near the team bench, in the physical therapist's section. Ellie caught her eye and waved warmly, giving her an encouraging smile. Rachel waved back, grateful for the support even from a distance.
"Ellie's working tonight," Sophie explained. "She's always down there during games in case anyone gets injured. But she's glad you came, she texted me like five times asking if you'd actually show up."
"You two were conspiring."
"That's what friends do. Now sit. The game's about to start."
Rachel settled into her seat, clutching the popcorn like a lifeline, her eyes scanning the ice where players were warming up.
She could pick out Cole immediately, number 19, moving with the confidence of someone who'd played professionally.
Jamie was easy to spot too, number 7, already chirping at someone on the other team.
And then she saw Mac.
Number 23. Sandy blonde hair just visible under his helmet. Moving across the ice with a grace that shouldn't be possible for someone his size.
Rachel's heart backflipped. Stupid heart.
She'd never seen him play. She'd avoided it deliberately, not wanting to watch him do the thing that Brad had loved more than her. But now, watching Mac glide across the ice, stick handling the puck with casual confidence, she understood something she hadn't before.
This wasn't just a job for him. This was joy. Pure, uncomplicated joy.
"He's good, isn't he?" Sophie said quietly beside her.
"I wouldn't know. I don't really understand hockey."
"Rachel." Sophie's words came quiet. "You don't have to pretend with me."
Rachel looked down at her hands. "I've never watched the Eagles play…him play. Mac."
"Really? Never came to a game this past year?"
"I couldn't. It reminded me too much of—" She stopped, not wanting to say Brad's name.
"But you're here now," Sophie pointed out.
The buzzer sounded, and the game began.
Rachel had been to dozens of hockey games in her life, all with Brad. Every single time, he'd picked out her outfit, always something sexy that showed she was the girlfriend of a star player, and asked her to "put a bit more makeup on, babe" before they left.
Once, she'd been sick with a terrible cold, and he'd insisted she come anyway because the scouts would be there and "it wouldn't look good" if his girlfriend wasn't there supporting him.
He'd brought her cough drops and squeezed her hand, saying he'd make it up to her later, that he just needed her there for this one important game.
She'd spent most of those games reading secretly in her lap, because Brad had made it clear her presence was more about appearances than actual interest in the sport.
But this was different.
This was Mac's world, and Rachel found herself leaning forward, actually paying attention, trying to understand the rules and the strategy and why people were cheering.
Mac was everywhere. Rachel couldn't stop tracking him, number 23, moving faster than seemed possible, anticipating plays before they happened, setting up passes that led to goals.
"He's having a really good game," Sophie murmured during a break in play. "Like, unusually good. Ellie texted me that Mac's been off all week at practice, distracted and sloppy. But tonight he's playing like he's possessed."
Guilt twisted in her stomach. He'd been distracted because of her.
The game continued, and Rachel watched Mac score a goal: a beautiful, impossible shot from an angle that shouldn't have worked but did. The arena erupted, and Rachel found herself on her feet with everyone else.
Mac's teammates mobbed him, celebration everywhere, but Rachel saw the moment Mac skated back to center ice. Saw the way his shoulders were set. The way he didn't celebrate, just returned to position, ready for the next play.
Like he was trying to outrun something.
Or someone.
"Rachel," Sophie said carefully, "are you okay?"
"I don't know." Rachel sat down slowly, her hands shaking slightly. "I think I made a mistake."
"What do you mean?"
"I told him he was too much. That I couldn't handle how intense he was." Rachel couldn't take her eyes off Mac as he moved across the ice. "But watching him now; that intensity, that passion, that all-in energy, that's not a flaw. That's who he is. That's what makes him... him."
Sophie reached over and squeezed her hand. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"I don't know. He probably hates me."
"He doesn't hate you," Sophie said firmly. "That boy is not capable of hating you. Hurt, maybe. Confused, definitely. But not hate."
The game ended with the Eagles winning 5-2. Mac had scored two goals and assisted on another. The crowd was ecstatic, filing out of the arena with the satisfied energy of people who'd witnessed something special.
Rachel sat frozen in her seat, watching the team celebrate on the ice, watching Mac accept congratulations from his teammates with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Come on," Sophie said gently, standing and pulling Rachel up with her. "Let's go."
"Where?"
"Players exit through the back. Ellie's meeting us there after she finishes up with the team. We can wait for them." Sophie tugged her toward the aisle. "You don't have to talk to him. But you should at least see him. See if what you're feeling right now is real or game-day adrenaline."
Rachel let herself be pulled through the dispersing crowd. This was stupid. She should go home. She'd asked for space, she couldn't just show up after a game and expect—
They rounded the corner to the player exit, and there was Cole, freshly showered and grinning. Ellie emerged from the team area at the same moment, immediately moving to Cole's side. He pulled her into a kiss that made Rachel look away with a small smile.
"Great game," Ellie said when they broke apart, then turned to Rachel with a warm smile. "I'm so glad you came. Did you enjoy it?"
"It was... intense," Rachel managed.
"Mac was on fire tonight," Cole said, his eyes finding Rachel, expression turning careful. "Best I've seen him play in months." He paused meaningfully. "Hey, Rachel. Didn't expect to see you here."
"Sophie invited me."
"Ah." Cole seemed to understand immediately. "Mac's still inside. Taking his time getting ready. He's been doing that all week, last one out."
Because he didn't want to face people asking about Rachel. Because he was avoiding the questions and the pity and the "what happened with the librarian" conversations.
God, what had she done?
Other players started filing out. Luke appeared with Emma, his wife, who had two small kids attached to her legs with velcro. Jamie came next, and when he spotted Sophie, his expression went carefully neutral, but not before Rachel caught the brief flicker of something warmer.
"Sophie," he said with his usual grin. "Nice to see you."
"Jamie."
"Good game, huh?" He stayed focused on Sophie a beat longer than necessary.
"Very good."
He nodded, then his gaze shifted to Rachel, cooler now. "Librarian. Hello there."
The temperature drop was subtle but unmistakable.
"Hi," Rachel managed. "Mac was... he was really good today, wasn't he?"
"Yeah. He was." Jamie's jaw tightened slightly. "Played like he had something to prove. Or something to forget." He said it lightly, but Rachel heard the protective edge underneath.
These were Mac's people. His family. And she'd hurt him, which meant she'd hurt them too.
"I should go," Rachel said abruptly. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have—"
The door opened again.
And there was Mac.
He stopped dead when he saw her, his hockey bag dropping from his shoulder. His hair was still damp from the shower, his face flushed from exertion and the heat of the locker room. His green eyes were wide with surprise and something else Rachel couldn't name.
"Rachel."