Chapter 26
I peel my practice jersey over my head and chuck it into my stall.
“Jackson, if you miss one more empty net this season, I’m taking your stick away,” Greyson chirps from across the room.
Jackson jerks back. “That wasn’t open, Leman was screening it.”
“Sounds like a skill issue to me,” Cole mutters, tying his laces.
The fuck is going on?
“Hey. We’re coming off five straight wins, a decent enough practice today and we’re back to fourth in the national ranking. Someone want to tell me what this is about?”
Grey frowns. “Dude, we’re just messin’ around.”
Jackson shrugs. “Yeah, Cap. We’re good. You good?”
I catch Hunter watching me. As my alternate, one look tells me he doesn’t see what I see.
I shake my head and disappear into the showers. They weren’t doing anything they don’t do every damn day. I’m the problem—carrying the secret about Shadow and Isla like it’s somehow a reflection of the kind of leader I am.
By the time I come back, half the room’s dressed, the other half still digging through bags and chirping as usual.
I slap a towel over my shoulder, ready to admit I blew the whole thing out of proportion, when the locker room door cracks open.
Isla peeks inside. “Hello. Is um…” She catches my eye, her gaze dropping to the towel wrapped around my waist.
The rest of her is still frozen behind the door. “Hey,” I grin at her, then glance around the room. “Come on in. Mostly decent.”
She steps inside but hangs close to the door, giving the guys an awkward wave. “Great practice,” she greets with a smile. “Probably. I—I didn’t see it. I don’t know why I said that.” She turns to me for help.
I bite back a chuckle and turn to my team. “Put some shirts on assholes, you’re making her nervous.” I wink and reach my hand out to her. “Come in, they don’t bite.”
“Leman does,” Grey says.
“That was one time and you’re next.”
Isla stands beside me, wide-eyed, as I tug her attention back to me. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
“Didn’t want to make a promise I wasn’t sure I could keep,” she murmurs.
The guys all rustle with the rest of their clothes.
“That so? Can we trust you to keep six rules?” I tease close to her ear.
“Well, I broke one in less than twenty-four hours of agreeing to them.”
“Ah, so chances are pretty good then.” I smile down at her and hold her waist as we face the rest of the team. “You guys remember Isla from the party?”
Hunter is quiet as he watches us. Greyson steps over, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Alright listen, next time you want to plan a peek, I’d give it about twenty minutes post practice to catch the most nudity—”
“Grey,” I warn.
“What? I thought Maddie sent her.”
Half the room shushes him because it would be just like Coach to walk in right now.
He knows damn well Maddie didn’t send her for a perfectly timed glimpse at the locker room goods.
“I promise I’m not here to spy.” Isla’s laugh is soft and I swear to God if anyone ruins it, I’m breaking limbs tonight. She glances up at me. “I just wanted to come meet you all…personally, and introduce myself.”
“Kane, you got a girlfriend?” Ronan asks and I know what he’s thinking. Hunter implied I was sleeping with someone on our text chain. But now that someone is introducing herself.
I deadpan all of them because they know me better than that. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
I drop my eyes to her and give her a nod of encouragement.
“I’m…his good luck charm.”
“You’re Shadow?” Jackson hollers.
I can feel her swallow hard. “Yes.”
Ronan clasps his hands. “Thank God, I thought Andrews fell for some AI bot.”
I catch Hunter giving me an approving nod but I still want to flip him off for accidentally setting all this in motion.
He walks over and offers Isla a hug with a muttered apology in her ear.
Her shoulders relax and it’s the only reason I’m letting his hands stay wrapped around her for a moment.
To my surprise, Cole steps over to her next, extending a hand. “Cole Leman.”
Isla’s eyes travel up his tall frame and of course the guy’s got his glasses back on. With his dark hair still damp from the shower, shoulders stretching the hell out of his T-shirt, and deceptively kind eyes, I’m ready to shove him back against his stall.
I’m a strange duck. Hunter and Grey could hug her, make her breakfast, and know how she takes her coffee, but a harmless book nerd comes within three feet of her and I’m ready to flatten him.
“Nice to meet you, Cole. You’re the… human calculator, right?”
He shoots me a glare. Then a polite nod at Isla. “Sure.” He turns back to the team without offering another word to Isla. “Listen up fuckers. This doesn’t leave the locker room. Shadow’s identity is a privilege she chose to share. It stays in here. Got it?”
A string of nods, “Yeahs” and “Of courses” ripple through the room. I blink behind Cole, not sure if I’m grateful for the announcement or jealous he’s the one who made it. He walks back to finish packing his duffle.
Ronan and Jackson step over to shake my hand. Then Isla’s. “Locker room rules, Isla. Welcome to the team. You’re officially part of it, now that we owe you a few wins.”
Isla breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you. But I want you all to know I’m not superstitious. I hope that’s not a deal breaker, it’s nothing but your talent out there helping you win. And you all have it,” she looks up at me with a shrug. “I’m just here for that…what if.”
By the time the introductions are over and everyone’s on the same page, some of the weight finally lifts off my shoulders.
I finish getting dressed, thank the guys again and meet her outside the locker room. “How was your presentation this morning?”
She shrugs. “We got an A minus. But…I got an F.”
“What?”
“If I were to grade myself,” she mutters.
“I took the easy way out. That’s kind of why I’m here now.
I don’t want to take the easy way out anymore.
I’ll never outgrow these insecurities if I don’t fight my fears.
” She shrugs with a small smile. “Plus, you were here so it was technically the easier option.”
I stare at her, something pulling tight in my chest. She could’ve kept us quiet and I never would’ve blamed her for it. Instead, she walked straight into something that scares the shit out of her because apparently, I was worth it.
I keep being the reason she has to step outside her comfort zone, and for some reason… she keeps doing it anyway.
Coach steps into the locker room with six minutes left on the countdown clock and an expression that tells me he’d rather be anywhere else. It’s Thursday and I haven’t seen Isla since the locker room drop-in on Monday. I’m already antsy about it.
“Andrews.”
I look up from taping my stick.
“Your mother’s outside,” he says flatly. Then gives me a look that’s both apologetic and a warning to get rid of her, before stepping back out.
The room doesn’t go quiet. That would be too obvious. The guys keep pulling on gloves and adjusting pads.
Hunter’s eyes meet mine from the stall beside me. His jaw tight. “You ignoring her calls again?” he mutters.
I tear the tape with my teeth and smooth the end against the blade. “Thought she had better things to do.”
Everyone in this room has met my mother. Not enough to know everything, but enough to know she doesn’t show up before games to wish me luck.
She comes to inspect the product, like the obnoxious little league dad who isn’t in it for the camaraderie or sportsmanship. But for their kid to make it to the big leagues.
I lean my stick against the stall. “I’ll be back.”
“Five minutes,” Hunter calls after me.
“Four if she brought him,” I mutter back.
She did.
I know before I reach the end of the concrete hallway because I hear his ingenuine laugh. Too polished. Designed to make strangers believe he owns whichever room he’s standing in.
Come to think of it, he’s perfect for my mother.
They’re standing by security, Richard beside her. One hand tucked into the pocket of an expensive wool coat. He looks like he wandered away from a country club and got lost on the way home.
My mother looks exactly as expected. Smooth hair. Perfect lipstick. The kind of smile she sheds when certain people are watching. My guess? She’s already figured out who’s in the stands tonight. Maybe even had a hand in getting them here. Wouldn’t surprise me.
My jaw ticks, and I haven’t even said hello yet.
Her eyes move over me as I approach.
“Told you never to bother me before a game,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. “You have a thousand girls texting you all at once, but your mother can’t drop by to wish you luck?”
“If that tells you anything,” I mutter.
“Really? A thousand?” Richard’s question is low, clearly clueless about the app.
Mom sighs. “It’s stupid. Just a silly distraction from the game.”
Richard stands taller. “Well, still a big night. We wanted to come support you.”
I frown at him. Or maybe give him a look of disgust. “It’s not a big night. It’s a game. We’ve had several this season.”
“Every game is a big game your final year, Kane.” She sighs like it’s a reminder she makes often. “Your father’s not here for these reminders but I still am.”
“Yeah, well, can you ‘still be here’ somewhere else?”
“That’s no way to talk to your mother.”
“It’s alright, Richard.” Mom looks at me, calm as a cucumber. “New York is here.”
“That’s great.” I nod toward the locker room. “I’ll let Grey and the rest of the team know. They might want to play well, too.”
I start to walk away but she calls after me. “I didn’t ensure their attendance tonight because of Greyson. Or anyone else on the team.”
“I’m their captain. If someone is here to watch them play, they have a right to know.”
She sucks her teeth. “For Christ’s sake, Kane. The only reason I called them is because you’ve finally started playing like yourself again. When you hit another slump, I want them to see what you’re actually capable of.”
I scoff. “When?”
She glares at me like she already knows I’m going to hit it sooner or later. But I’m done defending myself to her.
“And you didn’t call them. You called Dad’s agent.” I glance at Richard, since I doubt he knows she was sleeping with the guy behind Dad’s back. “And he got them here.”
Mom gives me a warning glare and I give her one back.
“The Rangers can’t just take a chance on your name,” she continues, lowering her voice as if that makes it kinder. “You have to prove you deserve it.”
Something inside my chest pulls tight.
I was twelve when they retired my father’s number.
Fourteen when the first junior coach told me I had his hands and speed.
Seventeen when a reporter asked if I thought I could be better than him one day.
Nineteen when the same NHL organization that made Dad a legend started watching me from the stands, deciding if I’m worth the same.
Nearly half my life telling myself the same goddamn thing every day.
“I should get back,” I say.
My mother’s gaze sharpens. “Dinner afterward.” It’s almost a statement.
“If I lose.”
“Excuse me.”
“Call it purgatory."
“Kane. I’m your mother.”
That’s her favorite move. Cut me down, then act surprised when I bite back.
“Your choice.”
“I’ll be here no matter what happens tonight,” she tells me softly, brushing my arm.
I almost laugh. What, does she think someone is recording us? “Fine. Whatever.” I turn and sure enough, my teammates are waiting for me outside the locker room.
Yep, that last thing was for show.
“You good?” Hunter asks, handing me my stick and helmet for warmup.
“I will be. Let’s hit the ice.”
I don’t punch the wall on the way to the tunnel. Not because I don’t want to give her proof that I’m too emotional, too distracted or too weak to carry the legacy she keeps shoving onto my back.
But because it’s still just warmup.
I’ll have time before puck drop to get back to the locker room…and check the app.