My eyelids start to flutter. “Hey, can I call you later this week? I’m about to pass out.”
“Absolutely. Goodnight,” Bren says quietly.
“Love you, Brennie Bean,” I mutter.
“I’ll love you more if you get the dirty details in the morning from Libby,” Bren whispers.
The next morning, Libby stumbles sluggishly down the stairs. Alone. She doesn’t say anything about her date or the guy she brought home.
Bren is going to be so disappointed in the lack of dirty details I have to share. Frankly, I’m a little bitter myself. Why is Libby being so secretive?
Chapter twenty-two
Lucas
Arriving at practice early, I’m met with the sound of skates scraping the ice. Who would be here before practice? No one on the team comes to mind, except maybe Ryder King.
Spotting the filled locker cubby, my eyes widen seeing that the culprit is Blaine Mitchell. I frantically put my gear on and lace my skates, eager to spy on him before hitting the ice myself.
Blaine bolts through the cone drills set up, executing his stick handling with precision I haven’t seen him have before. Racing toward the net, he winds up, taking a slapshot that goes wide and hits the post. Quickly recovering, Blaine gains control of the puck.
Clapping, I startle Blaine, causing him to lose his balance. “Don’t fall on your ass after that snappy rebound,” I call to him.
Regaining his balance, Blaine skates over to the bench where I’ve been watching.
“Didn’t know you were watching me,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck.
“What are you doing here?” I fold my arms.
“Same thing you are, I guess.” Blaine shrugs. “Getting in extra practice.
Chuckling, I inform him I usually come an hour early to practice a few times a week.
“I’ll let you have the ice then,” Blaine quietly says.
My brows furrow. “Don’t be ridiculous, dude.” I pat him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Let’s go. I’ll play D.”
Truthfully, my defense game is not nearly as strong as my offense. I’m much better at scoring goals than protecting the net. But I don’t mind helping Blaine out.
“You sure?” Blaine asks, still speaking softly.
“Yeah,” I respond firmly. “Just let me warm up a little bit.
Blaine follows me into some skating drills, keeping up as much as he can but always a hair behind me. Weaving in and out of the already set up cones, my heart and mind find peace as I glide on the ice.
“Alright, you shoot against me,” I instruct Blaine, take a stance near the net.
Blaine’s eyes bulge out of his eyes but his lips stay sealed.
“C’mon,” I chirp. “Show me something.”
He knits his brows before skating to the other end of the ice. My eyes watch his shoulders rise and fall taking in a long grounding breath.
Blaine moves swiftly towards me, but once he’s close to the center line, my instincts kick in and I’m ready to attack. He has to know I won’t take it easy on him.
As his eyes scan me, he continues to maintain steady control of the puck. Within a blink of an eye, Blaine tries to rush into the attack zone but my stick immediately secures the puck, not allowing him a chance to get close enough to shoot.
“Again,” I order Blaine, passing the puck down to the other side of the rink for him to retrieve.
