Cross Check (D.C. Stars #6)

1. Grant

ONE

GRANT

OCTOBER, TEN SEASONS AGO

The frat house smells like cheap alcohol and cigarettes.

I say hello to the guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and head for the living room.

It’s quiet tonight, just a few people hanging out and not a whole house party, and I’m glad I’m not walking into a rager.

I find a seat on the ripped leather couch under a photo of Doak S.

Campbell Stadium next to James Phillips, captain of FSU’s club hockey team and president of Tau Kappa Epsilon, and smile.

“Hey,” I say.

“There you are.” He nudges my shoulder. “You good, man?”

“All good. Just stressed about winter finals.”

“You’re a freshman. You have years to stress about finals.” He turns on the television and leans back, taking a sip of his beer. “Besides. Everyone knows you’re going to the NHL, like, tomorrow.”

“No one is going to draft a club player who grew up in Florida. Canadians come out of the womb playing hockey. I’m not NHL-caliber material.”

“Ten bucks says you’re on a pro team in five years.”

“I appreciate your confidence in me, J.”

“Oh, shit. Speaking of pro sports teams, the ticker down there just said the Orlando Falcons fired their head coach.”

“Aren’t they in the middle of a six-game win streak? That’s bizarre.” I squint at the television and try to find the breaking news alert. “Are you sure you read it right?”

“Of course I read it right. This is my first beer, dude. I’m not seeing things.”

“Hang on. Let me wait for it to come back across the screen.” The broadcast shifts from a pair of commentators to the women’s hockey game they’re covering. “It’s cool that the ladies are getting national attention.”

“Agreed. It’s a great matchup too. Wisconsin versus Ohio State? Those are the places of legends.”

“Holy shit.” My mouth drops open. “Who is that?”

“Who?”

“The coach behind Wisco’s bench. She’s beautiful.”

“Amelia Green,” James says. “Also known as an NCAA icon. The Badgers were undefeated for two years when she was captain. Now she’s an assistant at her alma mater.”

“Fuck.” I rest my elbows on my thighs and watch Amelia talk to one of the girls sitting on the bench. “How old is she?”

“Not sure, but she’s been there since she graduated a couple years ago. It’s only a matter of time before she’s snatched up as head coach somewhere.”

“She clearly knows her shit.” The camera cuts away from the blonde in the red blazer to the face-off circle, and I groan. I want to see more of her. “I’m an asshole for not knowing who she was before tonight.”

“That’s on you, dude. She’s a unicorn.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s talented as hell with records that speak for themselves.” James nods toward the screen. “She’s also smart.” He sighs. “And goddamn gorgeous.”

“I wish I had a way to meet her.” It’s my turn to sigh. One minute, and I’m infatuated. Ready to drop to my knees and ask if she’s ever been interested in a younger guy. Who cares if I can’t legally drink yet? “Why wasn’t I born earlier? I could’ve gone to college with her.”

“Forget it, G.” James puts a hand on my shoulder. “She’d never give the two of us a second glance. You’re wearing glasses, for fuck’s sake.”

“Because my contacts were hurting my eyes after our weight room session! I’m not a nerd.”

“Are you sure about that? You put together Lego sets when we’re not on the ice.”

“It’s called decompressing, and we don’t need to talk about me. Let’s talk about her. Look at that packed arena. Seems like she’s doing important stuff for women’s hockey.” I pull out my phone and type in her name. “I’m putting in a transfer and heading to the Big Ten.”

“Doubt Amelia would ever get involved with someone in the sport. Take my mom, for example.” James sips his beer then sets the bottle on the table to his left.

“She’s this powerful, high-profile attorney, right?

Murder trials, locking away people for life.

That kind of shit. She didn’t want anything to do with her male counterparts who worked at other practices, so she married my dad.

He’s a scientist who studies butterfly migration patterns. ”

“Wait, what?” I bark out a laugh. “Your dad studies butterflies?”

“Don’t make fun, G. It’s cool shit.”

“I’m not hating. It sounds awesome.” I rub a hand over my jaw. “Man. I’m kind of pissed I came over. If I had gone back to my dorm after my chem lab, I wouldn’t have had my heart ripped out of my chest.”

I tap on a link that takes me to Amelia’s social media account and a page littered with older photos.

There’s one of her in her college jersey, hugging her teammates at center ice with a trophy over their heads.

Another that must be her official coaching headshot.

Her blonde hair hangs past her shoulders.

Her blue eyes twinkle, and I hit the follow button without a second thought.

I’m a number in the sea of a hundred thousand fans.

She’ll never notice me.

“Women,” James says. “We’re not worthy.”

“No, we’re not.” I click off my phone. Her photos might be public, but I don’t want to do a deep dive into her posts without actually knowing her. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m on the first line for our game against Georgia Tech this Saturday.”

“Hell yeah, G.” He grins and throws an arm around my shoulders.

“Between you and me, I’m glad Johnson hurt his ankle so you could be bumped up.

You’re the kind of player I want in the starting lineup.

You give a hundred percent, all the time.

Which is exactly why you’re going to make it to the big leagues one day. Don’t forget about me when you do.”

“You’re kissing my ass so much it sounds like you need my help in study hall tomorrow,” I toss back, and he laughs. “What subject is it?”

“I might need someone to go over my bio flashcards with me before my final on Friday.”

“Only if you compliment me again.”

“Never. That was a one-time thing. Don’t let your head get too big.” James grabs a pillow and hits me in the face. I jump to my feet, finding a water gun from the house party the frat had last weekend. I point it at him, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “I take it back.”

A flash of yellow on the television distracts me.

I lower my weapon when Amelia Green’s face fills the screen again.

She’s laser-focused, attention moving across the ice with a precision I’ve never seen before.

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, and I notice her nails match the deep red shade of her blazer.

My heart skips a goddamn beat when she lifts her chin. Her gaze slides to the camera pointed at her, and a smirk curls on her mouth.

And, wow.

I’m fucking enchanted.

“Victory!” James smacks me in the chest. I drop the water gun and sprawl across the couch, covering my face with my forearm after his attack. “Shit. Did I hurt you?”

“No. It’s worse than that.” I groan. “I’m in love.”

“I’m telling you, dude. You have to let it go. That woman is going to settle down with someone fancy. She’d never go for a hockey player who is missing teeth.”

“Hey. I’m not missing any teeth.” I grin to prove my point. “Must mean I have a shot.”

“Tell you what, G. The day Amelia Green looks twice at you, you call me.”

“You’ve got a deal,” I say, and it’s a shame he doesn’t know I always play to win.