Chapter 2
Then
Although my family attends church every Sunday, I’ve never considered myself very religious. At eighteen and a senior in high school, I’m probably the furthest thing from a holy man there could be.
But I’m pretty sure the devil is tempting me right now, or maybe I’ve actually done something right in this life, and this is divine intervention, placing the girl from church in my path once again.
Not only is she in my path, but she’s stepping out onto the ice at my playoff hockey game to sing the national anthem.
Taevin Gray.
That’s what the announcer said her name was just before she stepped onto the ice.
My eyes don’t leave her petite frame as she lifts the microphone and begins singing “The Star-Spangled Banner” a cappella.
She looks adorable in her black, quilted parka that comes down to her knees and black leggings with crisp, white tennis shoes that match a white knit beanie with a fluffy ball on her head.
My fingers itch to run through the silky strands of her long, raven hair curling past her waist. And I know if she were facing me right now, I’d get lost in her depthless chocolate eyes the way I have for the past month my family has attended her church.
I hone in on her, taking note of each detail and creating a mental snapshot of this pivotal moment—the first time I’ve seen her outside the walls of our church.
I’ve asked around about her at my school, questioning if perhaps she was younger than me.
No one had heard of my nameless obsession, which made me wonder if she was homeschooled.
Now, as she sings the national anthem at my hockey game against our rivals, the Christian private school in our town, I put the pieces together.
Visions of her in a royal blue jersey and hanging out with one of the guys on their team don’t sit right with me.
If she is wearing one of their jerseys, she’s covering it up right now.
She’s always seemed so shy in church that I have a hard time picturing her dating an athlete, which doesn’t bode well for my chances.
As if a player like me has a chance in hell with a good girl like her.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as she begins belting the bridge of the song, and the crowd erupts in cheers filled with hoots and hollers for her singing.
I’ve only ever heard her sing at church accompanied by a piano and choir, but hearing her sing a cappella right now sends chills down my arms and spine.
She’s insanely gifted and vocally talented.
Even the way she performs is mesmerizing, it’s as if she were born to stand center stage and captivate an audience.
I haven’t looked at the flag once since she opened her mouth, and I doubt any of my teammates have either.
The crowd roars as she finishes the closing note, and I don’t waste any time skating over to her before she can get off the ice.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her, stopping beside the door she’s about to walk out of and leaning my hip against the boards.
I’m going for calm and collected when I’m feeling anything but. Seeing her this close again, breathing in her sweet, floral scent, has my heart beating in overdrive.
She looks shocked to see me. Her eyes widen as she looks side to side, like she’s trying to find a way out of conversing with me.
Clearing the nerves from my throat, I continue, “I mean, I knew you could sing from church, but your voice is beautiful and your range is insane.”
“Uh, thanks,” she says shyly.
“Are you sticking around for the game?” I can’t stop myself from asking her.
“I wasn’t planning on it. I’ve never watched a hockey game before. I’m just here because my choir teacher asked me to sing the national anthem,” she explains.
“Will you stay? Pretty please?” I bring my gloved hands together in pleading.
She tries to muffle her laughter behind her fluffy mittens, but I catch a glimpse of her small smile. The fact that I made her smile makes my chest swell with pride as if I’d just scored the game-winning goal.
“How about this? If you stay to watch your first hockey game, I’ll score a goal for you,” I suggest.
Lowering her mittens, she raises her eyebrows at me. “That’s awfully pretentious of you. Are you always this cocky, Jackson?”
“Not cocky, confident, Taevin.”
A slight gasp escapes as her name leaves my lips. It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud, and I have to admit I love the way it rolls off my tongue.
“Why do I get the feeling that only someone who is cocky would make that correction?”
“Stick around and see if I can put my money where my mouth is, Tae.” The nickname slips out, and she narrows her eyes slightly while fighting a grin, and it’s probably one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen a girl do.
“Alright. I’ll stay for the first half. But if you don’t prove yourself, I’m leaving.”
Standing to my full height, I inch closer to her. “There’s no halves in hockey. Stick around for the first two periods, and if I score in one of those, you have to stay for the third and meet me after the game by the concessions.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “I don’t know. That’s a big ask.”
“Wilson, let’s go!” my coach barks out.
Sighing, I make one last attempt to get her to play along with my wager. “Come on. It’s a big game for me. I could use some motivation.”
Taevin gently shoves my shoulders back toward my bench. “Alright, alright. I’ll stay, okay? Just go before you get me in trouble.”
I smile widely, likely making me look like an idiot, but I can’t find it in me to care. She’s staying for the game, and I’m going to score her a goal.
My eyes trail her as she exits the ice, and instead of listening to my coach’s final pregame pep talk, I watch her until she takes a seat in the opposing team’s student section.
Well, hopefully, that won’t get too awkward for her when she cheers for me.
Who am I kidding? I’ll be lucky if she even stays.
I’m still riding the high from our victory as I walk out to the concession area with my hockey bag slung over my shoulder. I stop in my tracks when I notice a girl with long, jet-black hair waiting in line at the concessions.
Even as she turns and smiles up at me, I’m still convinced my mind is playing tricks on me.
Taevin’s smile widens as she closes the distance between us and takes in my astonished expression. “Have you always been such an overachiever? Not one, but two goals, and a classmate of mine said you got an assist, which he told me is a good thing.”
I’m slow to answer because I’m a bit surprised by her sudden willingness to talk to me.
In each of our few—okay, two—interactions prior to tonight, she’s been so shy and reserved.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “He would be correct. And I’ve never been much of an overachiever, but I’m highly competitive, and knowing I needed to score in order for you to stick around gave me all the motivation I needed to play my ass off tonight. You must be my good luck charm.”
I notice her cheeks redden, and I’m not sure if it’s because I cursed or if it’s because I called her my good luck charm. Either way, I make a mental note to refrain from swearing as much as possible, even though the sight of her blushing is cute as hell. Heck. Ah, shit. Shoot!
Nodding to the concessions that are closing, I ask her, “What were you planning on getting?”
She follows my gaze and sighs as they shut the rolling door of the concessions. “I was craving a sugary treat. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”
“Did you drive here?”
Turning back to face me, Tae shakes her head. “No, I don’t have my license yet.” Her cheeks heat further to an adorable shade of red.
“How about you let me drive you home, and on the way there, we can stop for ice cream? It’s my guilty pleasure I only allow myself when we’ve won.”
She looks hesitant, biting down on her bottom lip. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, no offense, but you’re a complete stranger.”
“Text one of your friends my name and picture or something, and tell them we’re going to The Sprinkled Cone,” I suggest.
Her eyes sparkle at that. “Oh, I haven’t been there in years. My mom used to take me there every Sunday after church while my dad finished up his work.”
I smile at her excitement. “See, now we’ve got to go. Go on, get your phone out,” I tell her as I turn to the side and do my best Zoolander impression.
Her face scrunches up adorably like she’s tasted something sour. “What are you doing? What’s with that face you’re making?”
“I’m posing for the photo you’re about to send to your friend.”
“That face you’re making has you looking very suspicious. She’ll probably think you’ve already abducted me and taken my phone.”
“How about a FaceTime call then so she can see you’re willingly going with me?”
“Am I though?” she questions.
“Are you not?” I toss back, loving this new back and forth.
“I’m pretty willing to get ice cream and have a warm ride home, but the jury’s still out on the company I’ll be keeping.”
“Oh, Taevin,” I say as I sling my arm around her shoulder. “I think you and I are going to get along great.” As she taps on a contact and holds up her phone, I ask, “What’s your friend’s name?”
“Ryan.”
My stomach sinks. Shit, did I read this all wrong? Does she have a boyfriend?
Before I can overthink this any further, her friend accepts the call, and on the screen appears a girl with short, blonde hair that’s so light it almost looks white. Alright, so not her boyfriend. Her head is angled down, looking away from the screen, so I can’t make out her facial features.
“Hey, Ryan!” Tae greets her overly enthusiastically.
Without looking up, the girl sighs. “Is it your dad? Do you need me to come do damage control again—oh, hello,” Ryan says when she notices me now standing behind Taevin. “Who do we have here, bestie babe? And does he have a brother?”