Chapter 6
Zane
Practice ends when Leo finally calls me back.
“Well, that took you long enough,” I say without bothering to say hi.
“Everything good?” Leo asks, and I sigh.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. You weren’t at the bakery yesterday. Cool place they’ve got going,” I tell him.
“Yeah, sorry, I meant to text you. I had some Chen stuff to deal with. He’s spiraling badly. I heard you had a nice coffee with my colleague.”
From the way Leo talks, I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“What Chen stuff?” I ask, surprised. Rex Chen had become Leo’s nemesis after trying to buy the bakery. By extension, he’s made it onto my list as well.
“I still have some business ties with him that I’m trying to cut. It’s a little complicated,” Leo explains.
“Well, if there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“You can tell me what you thought of the bakery.”
“Sunrise hopefully, that alone helps whatever she’s dealing with.
By the time I get back to the apartment, something in me feels restless.
I haven’t been on a date in a long time. I don’t even know if she sees this as a date. Maybe it’s just a drink. Maybe it’s the start of a friendship, though I’m not sure that’s what I want.
I decide to wear my navy button-down. A photographer once said it matched my brown hair during a Grizzlies photoshoot. They let me keep it, and it’s been hanging in my closet ever since.
By the time I leave the house, it’s only 6:00 p.m. I don’t feel like waiting around, so I walk to the Moonlight Lounge. It’s about a twenty-minute walk if I keep a steady pace, so I get moving.
In my AirPods, Falling in Reverse plays to keep me going.
Blake and I used to listen to them in the locker room during our early days.
Coach always warned us that we were too close and that our friendship could hurt the team.
We stood out too much compared to the others.
At one point, there were even whispers about trading one of us.
But once we hit the ice, those doubts disappeared.
Blake and I have a natural rhythm. We always find a way to connect, to read each other without thinking.
It takes about four songs to reach the bar. When I check the time, I realize I’ve walked faster than usual. I’m almost fifteen minutes early.
Inside the Moonlight Lounge, a few tables sit empty. I choose one in the back, tucked into the darker section. Experience has taught me to be careful. Paparazzi, candid photos, it’s better to stay out of sight when I can.
A couple sits at the bar, and another occupies a table two seats over. They look like they’re on a first date. When the girl glances my way, I quickly look down. I’m not nationally famous, but in Chicago, people tend to recognize me.
I scroll through my phone until the door opens.
I look up.
And there she is.
Gwen.
I can’t help but smile as she spots me and walks over. She’s wearing deep green that brings out her eyes and makes her hair look darker in a way that feels unfair. The dress fits her perfectly, tracing her shape in a way that’s impossible not to notice.
Her hips sway as she walks confidently, but with a hint of uncertainty, like she’s still deciding whether she’s allowed to take up this much space.
It’s… captivating.
When she reaches the table, I stand and pull her into a quick hug.
“Hey,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. She’s warm, and she smells faintly of vanilla and something floral, softer than I expected, but just as distracting. “You look great.”
“Thanks,” Gwen says, her smile a little shy. “How are you?” she asks as she sits across from me.
“I’m good. We’ve got a game coming up, so I’m a little on edge. But… yeah, I’m good. How about you?”
She shifts slightly in her seat, and I notice the nerves immediately.
“The bakery was crazy busy today,” she says. “But my knee’s better, so I can’t complain. No evidence left of one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.” She pauses, then adds dryly, “Except for the hundreds of photos and videos, obviously.”
I huff out a quiet laugh. “I don’t think it was that embarrassing. I fall on the ice all the time.”
She gives me a look, amused and unimpressed. “Yeah, but you also know how to move on the ice. And do… whatever it is you do with that puck.”
The way she says puck makes it obvious she knows next to nothing about hockey.
For some reason, I like that.
“Well,” I say, leaning back slightly, “we could fix that. We could go skating again sometime. I’ll teach you. I promise your knees will survive.”
She smiles. “We’ll see. Gravity and I have a complicated relationship.”
Before I can respond, a waitress approaches the table.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a sparkling water,” Gwen says politely.
“A beer for me, please,” I add.
The waitress nods, jotting it down, when Gwen suddenly speaks again.
“Actually… can I get a beer too?”
I glance at her, surprised. “You like beer?”
She shrugs, a small laugh escaping her. “My dad always wanted a boy. So when I showed up, he just… rolled with it. Taught me everything he would’ve taught a son.” She tilts her head slightly. “This might be part of that.”
I smile. “I’m not going to lie, that’s pretty cool.”
“It is now,” she says. “Not so much when you’re the only girl in high school who knows how to throw a proper punch and shotgun a drink.”
She laughs, but there’s something under it, something quieter.
Something that still stings.
“High school for me was just classes and practice every day,” I say. “I didn’t go to any events. Didn’t even make it to prom.”
“I didn’t either,” she admits with a soft sigh. “I didn’t want to go alone, and I didn’t have many friends, so I stayed home with my dad and watched the Bears game.” She shrugs like it’s nothing.
It’s not nothing.
“Cheers to surviving high school,” I say, lifting my glass.
Gwen laughs and clinks hers against mine before taking a sip.
“Besides making the best baked goods in the world,” I add, “what do you like to do for fun?”
It’s a cliché question, but I don’t care. I want to know everything about her. I just don’t know where to start.
“I think the girly magazines would label me an introvert,” she says. “I like staying in and reading. I read a lot, actually. It’s probably my biggest hobby.”
Her eyes light up as she talks about it.
“What kind of books?”
“All kinds. Depends on my mood. Right now, I’m reading this book about a mafia boss who’s dying and trying to choose an heir. He has sons, but none of them are fit for it. His son-in-law would be.”
She pauses, as though she’s still turning the story over in her mind.
“But wouldn’t that be… frowned upon?” I ask. “Choosing someone outside the bloodline?”
“Exactly!” she says, lighting up. “That’s the whole conflict. He doesn’t know what to do.”
“Let me know what he decides,” I say, and she smiles.
“So who’s your all-time favorite author?”
“Definitely Rina Kent,” she says without hesitation. “She writes darker romance, and I get completely obsessed with her characters.”
“A darker type of romance,” I repeat with a small laugh. “That sounds intense.”
“It is,” she grins.
Then she tilts her head. “What about you? What do you do when you’re not out there saving women from face-planting on the ice?”
I huff a laugh. “I like being home too. I’m a big movie guy. That’s usually my night sweatpants, couch, and something playing in the background.”
She seems to relax at that.
“What’s your favorite movie?” she asks, leaning forward slightly, taking another sip of her beer.
There’s a faint blush on her cheeks, and I catch myself staring a second too long.
“Like you with books, I go through phases,” I say. “Right now? American Psycho.”
“I’ve heard of it, but I’ve never seen it,” she admits.
“You should. It’s… a lot,” I say. Then, before I can stop myself, “You could come over sometime. We could watch it together.”
The words are out before I can think them through.
Her cheeks deepen into a warmer shade of pink.
“That sounds fun,” she says. “Do you live close to the… ice skating place?”
“The rink?” I laugh. She nods, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, about fifteen minutes away. I’ve got a place on the edge of the city.” I pause. “I’ll actually have a roommate again starting tomorrow.”
“Oh?” she says, sitting up slightly straighter.
“My sister’s moving back from out West. She needs somewhere to land for a bit.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Gwen says softly. “Are you two close?”
“Closer now than we used to be,” I admit. “We’re close in age, so growing up was… a lot of fighting between us. But once we got past all that, it got easier.”
I hesitate, then ask, “Do you have any siblings?”
Something shifts in her expression.
“No,” she says quietly. “My mom passed away shortly after I was born, and my dad never remarried.”
The words land heavier than anything else she’s said tonight.
“I’m sorry,” I say, softer now.
Without thinking, I reach for her hand.
Her skin is warm, soft.
She looks down at where our hands meet. I can feel the hesitation, not rejection, but awareness.
She doesn’t pull away.
From the corner of my eye, I notice movement at the table beside us. When I glance over, the girl has her phone out, angled just enough.
My stomach drops.
I let go of Gwen’s hand immediately.
Not because I want to.
Because I have to.
I’m not pulling her into that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
“This has been nice,” Gwen says, her voice softer now. Her gaze flicks to the table, then back to me. “I think I should head out. But… thanks for inviting me.”
Something in my chest tightens.
“We don’t have to leave,” I say quickly. “We could stay. Have another drink.”
She shakes her head, already pulling away.
“I think it’s better if I go,” she says, glancing once more toward the table beside us.
That’s when it clicks.
This isn’t about the drink.
It’s about me.
“Can I walk you home?” I ask. “Or at least get you a cab?”
“My place is only a few minutes away,” she says, offering a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll be ok.”
She steps back, creating space where there wasn’t any just a second ago.
“Thanks again, Zane.”
And before I can find the right words, before I can fix whatever just broke, she’s gone.
The door closes behind her.
I sit there for a second, staring at the empty space she left behind.
Then I lean back and drag a hand over my face.
What did I do?
How did I mess that up?
Was it the picture?
The questions come fast. Loud. None of them helpful.
I signal for the bill, my thoughts spiraling, and not a single one of them lands on something good.