Chapter 10
It’s been five days, two more games—and two more wins—that Shadow was a no show in the seat I’d reserved for her.
But she’s been sending love. From somewhere in the stands. My guess is in the back, where no one will find her.
Or suspect her.
I’ve been patient. And after tonight’s game—after losing count of how many hearts I’ve sent to Shadow—I’m glad she opted to stay hidden.
Because people are onto us. Calling her my secret new girlfriend.
Why would I keep a new girlfriend a secret?
What girl on campus would let me get away with that?
Shadow would, that’s for sure.
“What if she’s…ya know…not your type?” Greyson asks after Thursday’s game. Neither of us went out to celebrate tonight. It was a brutal game. Close call but we still brought home the win. And then…we just wanted to go home.
Hunter, Grey, and I rent a house off campus in a private community. Three bedrooms, two car garage, and a hot tub on the back deck.
I cock my head, playing dumb, not bothering to answer Grey’s question. I haven’t thought about her looks. To be honest, in my mind, she’s a silhouette. Like she wants to be.
“Forget that,” Hunter chimes in. “What if she’s a he?”
I laugh, popping open my soda. “She’s not.”
“Dude, please tell us you’re secretly hooking up with her, because it’s starting to get weird.” Grey needles.
“What’s weird? I like her messages.” Literally.
“You’re obsessed with her messages. Don’t think we haven’t noticed.”
“I’m obsessed with winning,” I mutter, then take a healthy swig of the cold fizzy beverage.
Hunter points accusingly at Grey. “She didn’t send love that one game last week and we lost. So let’s not mess with his thing.”
“His thing is causing chaos in the crowd. Can you just spread the love a little more between the fans so you don’t put a target on Shadow?”
I perk up. “A target?”
“You think people aren’t going to try to find out who she is?”
“They—they can’t,” I argue, a surge of protection coursing through my veins.
How can they when I can’t even get a name?
There’s a beat of silence between the three of us. Both my roommates turn a hot gaze toward me. I know what they’re thinking. In fact, I’m already three ideas into how I’m going to do it. But it’s Hunter who says it first.
“You need to find out who she is.”
“What’ll it take for you to get me a phone number?” I ask the second I stride up to his desk on the second floor of the student library.
Fletcher inhales a deep breath, like he’s just been waiting for me to come back with a bribe. Or a threat. But I’m feeling generous today.
So we’re starting with a bribe.
“I can’t give you a phone number. I don’t even know how to get that.”
I glare at him.
“Legally, anyway,” he confesses quietly.
“Again. What’ll it take? Better yet. Tell me how to do it and I’ll take the damn risk myself.”
“I’d be an accessory.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to murder the girl.”
“Perhaps not. But last I checked, stalking isn’t exactly lawful either.”
“I’m losing my patience, Thomas.”
I can see him clench his teeth and know I’m pushing buttons he’s not used to having pushed. I wonder how much longer till he breaks.
Until he gives me what I want.
What I need.
What if I tell him I’m concerned for her safety? Which is the primary point here…I think.
“Kane, there are literally thousands of girls—most of who go to this school—that would happily give you their digits. Ask one of them.” He waves me off, then adds with an edge to his voice. “Leave Shadow alone.”
My eyes narrow. “You know who she is.”
He turns away, jaw clenched tight.
A slow, wicked grin tugs on my lips, and I step back with a nod. He’s either protecting her or has a little crush of his own. Either way, the kid’s going to lead me right to her. But he’ll need to let his guard down if I have any chance of that.
“Or maybe you don’t,” I withdraw, holding up my hands to signal a white flag.
“Look, Kane. The app was meant to cheer on the team. Hype up the crowd. Not score a blind date with a hockey fan.”
I sigh, letting my eyes trail off, smiling softly. “True, she might not even be my type. Am I right?”
“She’s not,” he snaps in agreement.
My head turns back to him, and I can’t help my smirk. “See you around, Fletcher.”
I don’t say much more, since the guy literally controls the app and can probably shut it down due to “technical issues” right when I need it. So I back away.
Frustration is not my strong suit. In fact, I fight it almost every time I’m on the ice. I need to take a breath.
But goddamnit, he knows who she is. And he’s keeping it to himself.
He’s keeping her to himself.
I run a hand through my hair and head down the grand staircase to the first level, racking my brain for plan B. Shit, I don’t know if I have a plan B. I kind of started with my best shot.
I stop dead in my tracks when my eyes land on a girl across the expanse of the library. She’s standing behind the circulation desk, head bowed, a curtain of dark hair falling around her shoulders as she shuffles a stack of books.
There’s something familiar about her. I don’t know if it’s the slope of her nose, the tilt of her head, or the shape of her mouth. But I’ve seen her before.
Slowly, I move further down the steps.
It’s not until her eyes dart up from the books to her monitor, that I recognize where I’ve seen her.
The arena.
Between the noise, the lights, the chanting, the chaos—I remember that same set of green eyes, locking with mine. Her elbow gripped by a Titans fan, which instantly forced me to look elsewhere.
But if she’s here… at Northwind’s student library… looking at her is no longer off-limits.
It’s inevitable.
When her gaze collides with mine—probably under the weight of my stare—the memory of her at the rink hits me sharper now. The way she looked at me like she could see past the shell I hide behind. Like she wanted to see more.
Surprise flashes first. Then her eyes shift, tightening with unease.
I’ll be honest, it’s not a reaction I’m used to—girls looking away—so I’m not sure what to make of it. But I sure as hell know what I’m not doing anymore—leaving.
I take a few short steps from the bottom of the stairs toward the long oval-shaped desk. The girl’s head is stiffly on the monitor as I approach, but I can tell she’s not focusing on anything.
She swallows and tilts her head to look at me. For a second, she looks like she’s about to say something. Like the words Can I help you? are sitting right on the tip of her tongue.
But her mouth closes and the question never comes.
“You work here?” I ask, cautiously, like she’s a squirrel I might scare away.
Her eyes snap to someone behind me.
“I can help you with whatever you need,” Fletcher offers urgently.
I roll my eyes. Apparently not whatever I need.
But instead of starting shit with the kid I need more than he needs me—I release a breath and pull my eyes off the girl.
“Never seen you work the front desk, Fletcher,” I say, turning slowly to face him.
He glances at his colleague and back to me. “Well, considering I wasn’t very useful to what you really came here for, figured I could help in some other way.”
Wait. Is he threatening me? I can’t have it out that I’m looking for Shadow. It’s supposed to be anonymous. It’s what makes the app so effective. I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue if word got out that I’m looking into a user’s identity.
The self-consciousness around campus would skyrocket.
Like Shadow’s did last week when she thought she was being mocked.
Like this girl’s did the moment I—
The moment she found me watching her.
No.
No, I’m way off base here.
Am I just so desperate to find her that I’ll think every girl I look at is Shadow?
No. So far, she’s the only one.
But fuck, can you blame me? She’s a knockout. The kind that makes you forget why you’re standing here.
Why am I here?
I’m about to tell Fletcher to buzz off so I can talk to the pretty librarian about… I don’t know, something. Help me find a book? Or—I glance down, finding a sign-up sheet—ask about tutoring services.
But when he comes around the desk, I catch the way he’s looking at her. Like he’s ready to throw himself in front of a moving bus for her.
Oh. That’s right.
“That depends, Fletcher. Have you changed your mind about helping me find—”
A sharp ding cuts me off and I realize he’s hit the register. “I’m sorry, this thing’s got a mind of its own sometimes.” He chuckles nervously and shuts it. “Isla, why don’t I help this student out and you can go take a break. Somewhere else.”
I narrow my eyes.
But the librarian—Isla—doesn’t question it. She ducks into one of the hidden study nooks, vanishing behind a row of shelves.
A grin settles on my face. “No worries.”
Did he really think I was going to ask him to help me track someone down? Out loud?
He glances toward his colleague again, then at the space around us. “Let’s chat outside.”
He scurries through the double doors and I follow him. Maybe the guy came to his senses. Or maybe he wants to give another ethics lecture. Either way, he pretty much handed me a plan B.
“I already told you to drop it,” he seethes when we’re alone, and it almost makes me laugh. “Look, I’m not going to be responsible for—”
“What do you think I’m going to do to her, Fletcher?”
He shifts restlessly. “All I’m saying is, I don’t want something that’s meant to motivate the team to turn into an online dating app.”
I step back and assess the guy. “You already told me that upstairs.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, so?”
“So, I dropped it and left. Why’d you pull me out here, anxious and out of breath, to tell me the same thing?”
He stares back. And I’m pretty sure I have my answer.
But pretty sure is not good enough.
I glance back through the doors.
Looks like I’m going to have to sit through a few tutoring sessions to be one hundred percent sure.
Because our next game isn’t for another four days.
And there’s no way I’m waiting that long.