Chapter 4
The rink was almost empty when Lex arrived for the one-on-one session.
She'd showered at the apartment after Elise gave her the tour, changed into fresh training gear, and driven back with the windows down and the evening air warm against her face.
Phoenix Ridge at dusk was beautiful in a way she hadn't expected.
The sky burned orange and pink over the rooftops, and the ocean was a flat sheet of copper in the distance.
She'd spent her career in cities that treated their athletes like commodities.
This place felt different. Smaller, warmer, like it wanted her there.
She pushed through the rink's side entrance and walked down the corridor toward the ice.
The hallways had switched to their evening setting, overhead fluorescents dimmed to a yellowish cast that made the concrete walls look older.
Water moved through pipes somewhere behind the plaster, and above her, metal ticked as the building cooled.
Without the noise of seventeen players and coaching staff, the rink had a different personality.
Intimate. Almost private. The hum of the cooling system was louder in the silence, a steady mechanical pulse that vibrated through the floor.
The ice was freshly resurfaced, gleaming under the reduced overhead lights. And Mara was already there.
She stood at center ice in her coaching gear, arms crossed, surrounded by cones and pucks arranged in patterns Lex didn't recognize.
Her ponytail was freshly pulled back and she'd changed into a clean coaching jacket, dark navy, zipped to the throat.
She'd come early. Of course she had. This was a woman who would rather wait thirty minutes than arrive second.
Lex had made sure she was early too, but Mara had beaten her by what looked like considerably more than a few minutes.
"You're on time," Mara said. No warmth in it. Just acknowledgment.
"You said be on time." Lex stepped onto the ice and skated toward her, her blades carving smooth arcs on the fresh surface.
The cold rose up immediately, sharp and clean, and the familiar rush of being on ice hit her like it always did.
Different from grass. Better, maybe. The speed, the glide, the way the world narrowed to the sound of edges cutting frozen water.
Mara had set up a defensive positioning drill.
She walked Lex through it, pointing to each cone, explaining the coverage zones and passing lanes with the clipped authority of someone who'd been teaching hockey systems for two decades.
Her blue eyes were focused entirely on the ice, her voice steady, her body language tightly controlled.
Professional. Not a centimeter of warmth that wasn't strictly necessary for teaching.
But Lex was watching for a crack. A tell. Anything that confirmed what she'd sensed in the office that afternoon: that underneath the armor, Mara Ellison was not entirely immune to whatever charged the air when they were in the same room.
"Run it," Mara said, stepping back behind the boards.
Lex ran the drill. Mara called corrections in real time, her voice cutting through the rink's silence.
"Tighter angle. Drop your hip. You're cheating toward the puck, stay in your zone.
" Lex adjusted, ran it again, adjusted, ran it again.
The repetition was grinding but effective.
Each rep carved the positioning deeper into her muscle memory, and Mara's corrections were specific enough that Lex was improving with every pass.
She ran it seven times. The system had a logic she hadn't appreciated from inside a full practice with seventeen other players.
When it was just the two of them, Mara could slow it down, explain each decision, each angle, each coverage responsibility with a patience that contradicted everything about her public persona.
The architecture of the system became visible, like watching a blueprint transform into a building.
Mara didn't just know this system. She'd built it.
Every drill, every positioning rule, every coverage assignment was hers, designed, tested, refined over years of coaching.
It was her creation, and standing inside it, the brilliance was unmistakable.
"Better," Mara said after the seventh rep. High praise from her. "Your edges are still sloppy on the crossover. Drop your shoulder."
Lex adjusted and ran it again. This time the crossover felt clean, her blades gripping the ice with the power and control she knew she was capable of.
She completed the drill and skated back to Mara, stopping close enough to see the fine lines around her eyes and how her breath misted in the cold air.
"How was that?"
"Acceptable." But recognition lived behind the word. Mara's gaze held hers longer than necessary before she looked away, pulling at the zipper of her coaching jacket.
Lex pushed. Just a fraction. "You know, Coach, for someone who thinks I'm uncoachable, you're doing a pretty good job of coaching me."
The corner of Mara's mouth twitched. She caught it immediately, pressed her lips together, but Lex had seen it. A crack in the fortress. Tiny. Real.
"Don't flirt with me, Landry."
"Who's flirting? I'm complimenting your professional expertise."
"Then you can compliment my professional expertise by running drill seven again. Your inside edge is still weak."
Lex ran it. Twice. The second time she nailed the crossover perfectly, her blades singing on the ice, and she skated back to Mara with the satisfaction of someone who'd just proven a point.
They were standing close. Close enough that the flush on Mara's cheeks was visible that could have been cold or could have been desire.
Mara's blue eyes met hers and held, and neither of them spoke.
The rink was silent around them. Just the hum of the cooling system and their breath clouding in the frigid air.
"Session's done," Mara said, quieter than before. "Same time tomorrow. Neutral zone entries."
"Can't wait."
Mara turned and walked toward the tunnel without looking back.
Lex watched her go. The long stride. The straight back.
The tight ponytail swinging between her shoulder blades.
Mara's hands were shoved deep in her pockets and her shoulders were slightly raised against the cold, and she looked like a woman holding herself together with everything she had.
Yeah. Her pulse hadn't come down yet. Her hands were restless against her thighs, needing to move. There's definitely a charge between us. And I think she knows it too.
She skated a few more laps to cool down, enjoying the empty rink and the cold and the pleasant burn in her thighs and shoulders.
The rink felt enormous without anyone else in it, the ceiling stretching high above her, the seats empty and dark.
She could get used to this. The ice, the speed, the cold that bit at her cheeks and nose and made her feel sharp and present.
Field hockey had given her a career. Ice hockey might give her a second chance at everything.
She showered in the empty locker room, the hot water unwinding the knots in her muscles, then dressed and drove back to the apartment with the windows down and the coastal night air filling the car.
Elise was on the couch with a book and a cup of tea when Lex came through the door.
The apartment was small but clean, with mismatched furniture and big windows that looked out over the street.
Elise had made it feel warm. There were plants on the windowsill, a blanket folded on the couch, and the smell of a recent meal lingered in the kitchen.
"How'd it go?" Elise asked, looking up from her book.
Lex dropped onto the opposite end of the couch and kicked off her shoes. "She's a good coach. I hate admitting that."
Elise smiled. "She's the best coach I've ever played for. She's just not easy."
"No kidding." Lex stretched her arms over her head, feeling the pleasant ache of muscles worked hard. "What's her deal? She's so buttoned-up. Does she ever relax?"
"Not that I've seen. She's been like that since I joined the team. Control is her whole thing. Every drill, every play, every player. She runs the Valkyries like a military operation." Elise folded down the corner of her page, giving up on the book entirely.
"Must be exhausting."
"Probably." Elise set her book down and tucked her feet underneath her. "So. First-day thoughts. What do you think of the team?"
Lex considered. "Good group. Lou's solid. Camille's impressive. Frankie's funny. The team's got chemistry. I can see why you guys made it to the PWHL."
"What about the clash with Mara? That was pretty intense for day one."
"She benched me for scoring."
"She benched you for ignoring her system in your first practice. There's a difference." Elise pointed at Lex with her mug.
Lex pulled a face. "Whose side are you on?"
"I'm on the side of you surviving your first week. Mara likes control. She needs it. If you push her too hard, she'll lock you out and you'll spend the season on the bench watching Rowan take your ice time."
"Rowan?" Lex frowned. "Pike? The wing?"
Elise grinned. "She has a crush on you, by the way."
Lex shrugged. "Everyone has a crush on me. I'm very pretty in a masc/femme hybrid way.”
Elise laughed. It was a good laugh, genuine and warm, and Lex felt a tension release inside her. She'd been bracing for this move to be lonely. New city, new sport, no friends. But Elise was a person who made everything feel manageable.
"So who are you into?" Elise asked, pulling her mug closer. "Anyone serious back home?"