Chapter 7
Zach
The gym is alive today. We’re off the ice, focusing on conditioning, but the energy is just as intense.
Blake Saunders, our left wing and team jokester, is shouting encouragement—or trash talk, depending on how you hear it—while Mason Cooper, our no-nonsense right wing, powers through a brutal set of sled pushes.
Levi Walsh, our defenseman and the team’s toughest competitor, is firing a medicine ball back and forth with Max, one of our rookies, who’s doing his best to keep up.
“Come on, Max!” Levi’s voice booms across the gym. “Put some muscle into it. This isn’t a knitting circle!”
I shake my head, setting up for my next deadlift. “Ease up on the kid, Walsh. He’s barely old enough to grow a decent beard.”
Max grins, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’ll take whatever advice I can get, Captain.”
“That’s the attitude,” I say, racking my weights. “But don’t let Walsh fool you. All that barking? He’s a teddy bear under there.”
Levi shoots me a glare, but there’s a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Keep it up, Darling, and I’ll have you running sprints till you puke next practice.”
“Relax, Levi. You’re going to scare Max into early retirement,” Blake chimes in, tossing a towel over his shoulder with his signature grin.
Wyatt steps up beside me, chuckling. “You’ve got them all wrapped around your finger, Captain Charming. Too bad you’re not as smooth on the ice.”
“Funny,” I reply, grabbing my water bottle. “Let me know when you’re done auditioning for open mic night.”
Wyatt leans against the rack, watching the guys finish their sets. “Seriously, though, this is good. Keeping everyone sharp, motivated. It’s what we need.”
I nod, the weight of my captaincy settling comfortably on my shoulders. “We’ve got to keep the momentum going. No excuses this season.”
The session winds down eventually, and most of the guys head for the locker room, leaving just me and Wyatt on the mats. He stretches out on the floor, arms behind his head, while I start rolling out my legs.
“You figure out the reunion thing yet?” he asks casually, his voice low enough not to carry.
“Got it covered,” I say, keeping my tone light.
Wyatt props himself up on one elbow, his eyebrows lifting. “Oh yeah? What’s your plan?”
“I’m bringing a date,” I reply, smirking.
Wyatt lets out a low whistle. “Well, that’s one way to shut your dad up. Who’s the lucky lady?”
“Lainey,” I say, lowering my voice and leaning in slightly.
His reaction is immediate. His jaw drops, and he sits up fully, staring at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head. “You seriously asked Lainey?”
“Yup.”
He blinks, still processing. “The one who called you an arrogant show-off at the team gala last year?”
“Yup.”
“The one who told Chloe she’d rather date a lamp than you?”
“Still yup.”
Wyatt throws his head back, laughing so hard it echoes through the empty gym. “Oh, this is going to be good. Please tell me she’s in on it, and you didn’t just decide this for her.”
“She’s in on it,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We made a deal. I help her with your wedding, and she helps me with the reunion. It’s fake dating. Simple.”
“Simple?” Wyatt grins, shaking his head. “Have you met Lainey? She doesn’t do simple. She’s got a plan for everything—probably down to how many seconds you’re allowed to hold her hand.”
“She’s got it all figured out,” I reply with a shrug. “As long as we stick to the plan, it’ll be fine.”
Wyatt raises an eyebrow, his skepticism written all over his face. “You seriously believe that? You and Lainey playing house is like tossing a match into dry grass—there’s no way this doesn’t catch fire.”
“Not if we keep things under control,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Boundaries. Rules.”
He laughs, crossing his arms. “Boundaries, huh? Those are great on paper, but when feelings get involved—and they will—rules won’t save you.”
I shrug, brushing him off. “We’ll stick to the plan.”
“Sure,” Wyatt says, smirking. “Because nothing ever goes off-script with you two. Look, I still think this is nuts, and Chloe’s probably going to lose her mind when she finds out, but I’ll admit—if anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I reply.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Wyatt adds as we head toward the locker room. “This could still go sideways fast. But honestly? I’d like to see it work out. Might save us all the pain of dealing with your constant bickering.”
I chuckle. “Not going to happen. We’ve got this handled.”
He points at me as he grabs his towel. “Sure you do. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Wyatt slings his towel over his shoulder and walks off, leaving me standing there with his words hanging in the air.
Feelings for Lainey? No chance.