Chapter 23 — Lena
Lena
Lena Brooks did not like watching hockey when she had emotional stakes.
She had discovered this gradually.
At first, hockey had been background noise. Loud. Cold. Chaotic. Full of men slamming into each other with the confidence of people whose brains would not be fully developed for several more years.
Then Carter Hayes had become more than a fundraiser problem.
Then Carter Hayes had become more than a kiss.
Then Carter Hayes had become Carter.
And now hockey was no longer background noise.
It was a full-body stress event with whistles.
Tuesday night, Lena sat in the student section beside Paige, wearing a Ridgeview sweatshirt, jeans, and the expression of a woman trying very hard not to clutch the railing like a Victorian widow waiting for news from sea.
Paige handed her a cup of hot chocolate.
“You look like you’re about to negotiate with fate.”
“I hate this.”
“The hot chocolate?”
“The entire sport.”
Paige looked out at the ice, where Ridgeview players circled during warmups. “Because of the violence?”
“Because I know one of the violent people personally.”
“Romantically.”
“Paige.”
Lena took the hot chocolate and held it in both hands. The warmth helped. A little.
Across the ice, Carter skated near center, helmet on, stick loose in one hand. He looked fast and comfortable and completely at home in a way that made Lena’s chest ache.
She loved watching him.
She loved the way he moved on the ice, all speed and instinct and controlled power. She loved the focus in his posture before a game. She loved that he had texted her before warmups with exactly three words.
Carter: I know why.
Still, knowing and doing were different things.
Miles Decker was on the other side of the ice in an Eastmore jersey, skating lazy circles near the blue line with the smirk of a man who looked like he had been born saying things he should regret.
Lena disliked him immediately.
Which was probably unfair.
Then he glanced across the ice at Carter, said something to one of his teammates, and laughed.
Fair.
Completely fair.
Paige followed Lena’s gaze. “That’s the guy?”
“Yes.”
“He has villain eyebrows.”
“I’m just saying. Some people’s faces come with warning labels.”
Lena took a cautious sip of hot chocolate. “Carter told me he’s going to handle it.”
“Do you believe him?”
Lena watched Carter turn during warmups, catching a pass and snapping a shot into the net so cleanly the puck was there before Lena fully tracked it.
“Yes,” she said.
Paige looked at her.
Lena swallowed.
“I’m scared,” she admitted. “But yes.”
Paige bumped her shoulder gently. “That’s kind of the whole thing now, huh?”
Lena let out a breath that almost became a laugh.
“Yes.”
The arena lights dimmed for introductions. The crowd roared. Music thundered through the speakers, the kind that made the floor vibrate beneath Lena’s boots.
Ridgeview players were announced one by one.
Mason got an obnoxiously loud cheer and pointed to the crowd like a man accepting worship.
Tank lifted one hand shyly despite being large enough to frighten a refrigerator.
Logan Reeves skated out to a low, rumbling wave of noise, expression blank, every inch the kind of player opposing teams pretended not to fear.
Then Carter’s name boomed through the arena.
“Number seventeen, Carter Hayes!”
Carter skated out fast, circled once, and tapped gloves with his teammates. Then, as he turned toward the bench, his gaze lifted.
Private.
For her.
Paige leaned close. “You are glowing.”
“I am not.”
“You are a lighthouse.”
“Watch the game.”
“I am watching you watch the game. It’s better.”
For the first few shifts, Carter was exactly what he had promised.
Eastmore played hard, pressing Ridgeview against the boards, clogging the neutral zone, finishing every check with just enough extra force to irritate without always earning a whistle.
Carter took a hit in the first period that made Lena grip Paige’s arm.
“He’s fine,” Paige said automatically.
“You don’t know that.”
“He got up and looked annoyed. That seems fine.”
Carter did get up.
But not reckless.
He skated back into the play, fought for position, and made a sharp pass to Mason, who nearly scored and then looked personally offended when the goalie saved it.
“See?” Paige said. “Fine.”
Decker saw Carter.
They crossed paths near the blue line, and Decker said something.
Lena could not hear it.
Of course she couldn’t.
But she saw Carter’s jaw tighten.
Her heart slammed.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
Carter turned his head slightly.
Stayed in the play.
Lena’s breath left her so hard Paige glanced over.
“He did it,” Lena said.
Paige smiled. “Yeah. He did.”
The period stayed scoreless until the final two minutes, when Logan buried a rebound off a shot from Jonah and the arena exploded.
Ridgeview led 1–0 at intermission.
Carter skated off with his team, and Lena finally released the railing.
Her fingers ached.
Paige noticed. “You know, there are less stressful hobbies.”
“Like what?”
“Knitting.”
“I’d use the needles as weapons.”
Carter: First period report: did not commit murder. Very mature.
She laughed, relief bubbling up.
Lena: Proud of this development.
Then, after a second, another message came.
Carter: He said something. I wanted to react. I didn’t. Your voice was louder.
Lena stared at the screen.
Her throat tightened.
Paige leaned over. “What?”
Lena: You stayed yourself. That matters more than he does.
They tied the game on a deflection five minutes in, then took a penalty thirty seconds later when one of their defensemen hooked Mason so obviously even the ref could not pretend not to see it.
Ridgeview power play.
Carter jumped over the boards.
The crowd rose.
Lena rose with them.
Carter took the puck along the half wall, faked a pass, slid around an Eastmore defender, then fed the puck across the slot to Tank, who slapped it toward the net. The rebound bounced loose.
Carter crashed in and scored.
Lena screamed.
Actually screamed.
Paige stared at her.
Lena clapped a hand over her mouth.
Paige’s grin was enormous. “Oh, that was precious.”
Not loud enough for anyone else to hear, maybe, but loud enough for Lena.
Not in the soft secret place she had been keeping it.
Out in the arena, wrapped in noise and hot chocolate steam and Carter’s goal light flashing red behind the net.
Lena looked at the ice.
Carter was being mobbed by his teammates. Mason jumped into him so hard they nearly toppled. Logan gave him a glove tap. Carter laughed, breathless and bright, then turned toward the student section.
Oh.
Oh no.
Paige’s hand found hers. “Lena.”
Lena swallowed, unable to look away from Carter.
“I know,” she whispered.
Because he listened.
Because he had made room in his life for her fears without making them feel like burdens.
Because when Decker said something sharp, Carter had chosen himself over the easy fight.
The game continued, because apparently life did not pause for emotional revelations in section 104.
Worse.
With three minutes left in the second, Carter and Decker battled along the boards near the student section. Sticks tangled. Shoulders hit. Decker leaned close and said something.
This time, Carter shoved him.
The whistle blew for an offside before it could escalate.
Logan skated in like a wall and got between them.
Carter’s chest rose and fell.
Decker kept talking.
Logan said something to Carter.
Carter shook his head once.
Then skated away.
Away.
Lena exhaled so hard it hurt.
Paige whispered, “Good boy.”
Lena shot her a look.
The second period ended 2–1.
Carter did not text during the intermission this time.
Lena did not blame him.
The arena mood shifted from confident to tense.
Ridgeview pressed. Eastmore pushed back. The game grew uglier, every collision louder, every whistle followed by shoving.
Carter’s shifts were controlled.
Mostly.
But Lena could see the strain in him.
With eight minutes left, Decker caught Mason with a late hit near the boards.
The crowd exploded.
Carter turned.
Lena stood without realizing it.
No.
Decker looked straight at Carter and spread his hands like innocence.
Carter skated toward him.
Carter reached Decker and shoved him hard in the chest.
Decker shoved back.
The arena noise turned feral.
Lena felt cold all over.
Carter’s gloves were still on.
The kind Lena had specifically asked him not to make for her.
Her voice came out before she knew she was going to use it.
“Carter!”
Maybe he just knew.
His eyes found hers across the glass and rows and noise.
Lena shook her head once.
Stay yourself.
Please.
For one suspended second, Carter did not move.
He turned from Decker and skated toward Mason instead.
The ref grabbed Decker.
Logan moved beside Carter.
Mason was getting up, irritated but okay.
Carter reached him, checked him over, and said something that made Mason laugh despite wincing.
Lena sat down slowly, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
Paige’s eyes were wide. “He looked at you.”
Lena nodded.
Her hands were shaking.
“He stayed himself,” Paige whispered.
“Yes.”
Eastmore took the penalty.
Ridgeview went on the power play.
Carter stayed on the bench for the first unit, jaw clenched, Coach leaning close to say something in his ear. Carter nodded once.
Then Coach sent him out for the second unit.
Carter faked the shot, pulled the puck in, waited half a beat, then snapped a pass through the seam to Mason at the back door.
Mason threw both arms up, then pointed dramatically at Carter like he had personally witnessed a miracle.
Lena was crying before she realized it.
Paige put an arm around her shoulders. “Oh, honey.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your okay or mine?”
Logan blocked a shot that made the entire student section wince.
With twelve seconds left, Carter chased a loose puck near center, beat Decker to it, and sent it sliding into the empty net.