The silence stretches, and Eli’s jaw works. “Since when do you volunteer for elementary school gigs?”
Chase’s grin turns feral. “Ohhh, story time—”
“Shut up, Walton,” Eli and I snap in unison.
For a second, it’s just tension simmering between us, my pulse hammering.
He doesn’t blink. “Miller?”
My pulse ticks hard. Do not fidget. Do not look like a man with a secret who left a wet patch on his sheets last night.
I open my mouth, grasping at fucking straws, no idea how to explain this away, until Reid’s voice cuts through, flat as stone.
“Relax, Parnell. I’m going too.”
Eli’s focus snaps. “You?”
“Yeah,” Reid mutters, as if it’s no big deal. “He’s not kidnapping a damn classroom. We were on the bus, he checked in about Dusty, and Lulu mentioned her principal breathing down her neck. Since you couldn’t swing it, he said he’d go, and I’m going too. Kids should meet a real goalie anyway.” His eyes move to me, dark and unreadable. “Right, Miller?”
My mouth is dry. “Right.”
He knows something’s going on. Maybe not everything, but enough. And this majestic bastard is covering for me.
Eli exhales, suspicion softening into something else—distraction, worry, whatever’s been riding him these past few weeks. “Fine. Both of you. Maybe that’ll shut up her principal for once.”
Chase claps his hands together, delighted. “Hutchy at Career Day? I’m buying a ticket.”
“Fuck off,” Reid says without looking up.
Jake leans back and smirks. “Hope someone warns the kindergarten.”
Ryan shakes his head, the ghost of a smile there. “Wear a cup. Those kids are dangerous.”
Benson stomps past and smacks the back of my shoulder pads with his clipboard. “Save the stand-up routine for after video. Stretch, showers, then meeting. Miller, good edge today. Keep it.”
Good edge.
If only he knew. That edge has a name, a laugh, and the kind of smile I’d burn down my career for.
And yeah, I want to keep it. Keep her.
“Yep,” I reply, but my attention snags on Reid. He’s not smiling. He’s not anything. His eyes are on me, as immovable as a netminder reading the ice. And it’s worse than Eli’s suspicion, because Reid’s not distracted. He’s watching. And he doesn’t miss a damn thing.
Back in the locker room, Chase flops onto the bench beside me, hair dripping, towel precariously low. “So, Miller. Big fan of education now? Gonna show up to Career Day with flash cards and a pointer stick?”
I snort, tugging at my laces. “Yeah, first lesson’s gonna be how not to chirp when you can’t grow a playoff beard.”
The boys howl.
Jake leans around from his stall, deadpan as ever. “Don’t knock it. Imagine him diagramming forechecks on a whiteboard for a bunch of middle schoolers.”
Ryan smirks. “Nah. He’ll just tell them the secret to a good breakout is to body check your classmates.”
Chase cackles. “Detention Day with Coach Miller. Sign me the hell up.”
“Christ,” I mutter, laughing as I shove my gear into my bag.
But Chase doesn’t stop. “Please. If Miller’s showing up to Career Day, it’s not for the kids, it’s for the hot teacher.”
