I recognize Hudson Hayes across the ice, and when he gestures for me to join him, I make my way over to the corner of the rink where he’s stretching.
“Hey.” He pulls off his glove and holds out his palm. “I’m Hudson.”
“Emerson,” I say, and his hand dwarfs mine when we shake. “But you can call me Emmy.”
“Nice to meet you, Emmy.” His smile is warm and kind, and I already like him. “How’s DC treating you?”
“It rains too much here. I’ve barely seen the sun since I landed.”
“You’re telling me. You moved from California, right? I’m sure this is a big change.”
“Mhm. San Diego by way of Michigan, with a few stops in between.”
“Lansing, I think?”
“Someone did their homework. You could teach your captain a thing or two.”
“Probably more than that,” he jokes, and a soft, surprising laugh slips out of me. Guess I don’t need to be specific about which teammate I’m talking about. “Does the gender-neutral name throw people off?”
“All the time. When I took my SATs, the proctor tried to kick me out of the room because he thought I was impersonating someone. I got a whole lecture on how identity theft is a felony, even as a teenager. It kind of makes me want to legally change my name to Emmy, but seeing people’s reaction when they’re wrong is hysterical.”
“You mean like dumbass hockey captains who try to hit on you?”
This back-and-forth is exactly how it felt when I met Grady the first time. A full-on grin bursts across my face at the thought of my best friend, and I wonder if Hudson could be that to me too.
“Exactly. I wish I had video footage of that day,” I say.
“I could probably track some down. There are security cameras all over the arena. We could use it as blackmail.” Hudson grins back at me. “Let me know if Mavvy pisses you off too much. I have no problem putting him in his place.”
“Mavvy? That is an obnoxiously cute nickname, even if his pretty-boy charm doesn’t work on me.”
“You sure about that?” a low voice asks from behind me. “Maybe the charm is working, because you still think I’m pretty.”
“Your selective hearing is something else.” I turn around, and Maverick is standing there with his helmet and stick in his hands. “Maybe I’ll call you a troll instead. Or a leech, since you can’t seem to leave me alone.”
“The compliments keep getting better and better,” Maverick says. “I can’t wait to hear what you think up next.”
“Did you need something?” I ask.
“Just wanted to say good luck today.”
“Since when are you nice to me?”
“I’m nice to everyone.” He puffs out his chest, and I swear he grows another inch taller. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but if we’re going to be around each other for the next seventy games this season, I figured I’d be civil. It’s going to be hard to win if your hands are around my neck and cutting off my air supply.”
“You’re not into that? I’m surprised.”
“I might be. Want to find out?”
“Dream on.”
“Says the woman who won’t stop talking about me when I’m not around.” His grin stretches into a proud beam and his eyes crinkle in the corners. “Are you obsessed with me or something, Hartwell?”
“He can be delusional,” Hudson says. He skates over to Maverick and clasps a hand on his shoulder. “If you ignore him, he tends to find someone else to bother.”
“So he’s a pesky gnat. Got it,” I say.
A whistle blows. The coaching staff stands on the red line with clipboards in their hands, and my heart moves to my throat.
