CHAPTER ONE
FRANKIE
For someone who had long since hung up her skates, I sure let hockey wear me down. Letthemwear me down. The team, my team. I wasn’t one of them, I knew that, but sometimes they made it so damn easy to feel like I was.
My hockey career ended with more of a sigh than a bang. It wasn’t all that different from how most women’s careers end. Sure, there are pro leagues for us, but the pay was a joke. Try living on that. So, after college, the options for staying in the game were slim. The most common path? Coaching—but not at the NHL level. More like high school or juniors. I was lucky, though. I landed in the AHL. Still not the big leagues, but enough to put a small crack in that glass ceiling.
Practice had wrapped, and only a few guys lingered on the ice. I sat on the bench, not quite ready to leave. If I was honest, this place felt more like home than anywhere else. I'd been the assistant coach for the Golden Gate Guardians for three years now. Griff, our head coach, was the closest thing to a parental figure I had left. The guys on the team came and went—some to the NHL, others to Europe—but I remembered each one I had helped guide toward their dreams.
I glanced up at the rafters, taking in the Calder Cup banners from decades past. It had been a long time since this team had done anything to write home about—until this year. I could feel it deep down.
The sharp slap of a puck against the ice pulled my attention toward Sullivan, our goalie coach, working with our first-string goalie. Rowan was good. Really good. He wouldn’t be in the AHL much longer before making an NHL team very happy.
Ice sprayed as Teddy Valentine coasted to a stop near the half wall, leaning against it with that trademark smirk. "Shouldn’t you be hurrying home? Pretty sure you’ve got better things to do than hang around here."
He was wrong. There was nothing better than being here in this rink, even while my phone buzzed with another text from Travis. After three years together, since I’d moved back to the city, he knew my schedule better than I did. He knew how long practices lasted and didn’t like it when I stayed late.
I glanced at the screen before looking back at Teddy. "Your edges needed work today."
His smile faltered for a split second, but he recovered quickly. I’d known Teddy long enough to recognize the act: always playing the charming, affable guy. "Practice is over, Coach. The team’s mostly gone. Don’t be shy. You can admit how great I am."
I rolled my eyes and stood up, snapping my blade guards on. "Go home, Teddy. Get some rest before tomorrow’s game."
He didn’t budge. Instead, he cocked his head and studied me. "Everything okay, Frankie?"
"I’m your coach. Watch it."
With that, I turned and headed down the tunnel toward the locker room. He didn’t follow me, and I was grateful for that. I slipped into my office and locked the door behind me, needing a moment to breathe. There wasn’t time for a shower before Ihad to head home. I sank into my desk chair, resting my head in my hands, wishing I could just close my eyes for a second. But instead, my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out, and as the screen faded to black, the text from the man I was supposed to marry in less than two months disappeared. It wasn’t a new argument. Travis had uninvited me from dinner with his best friend tonight, claiming she was having a hard time and needed him—just him. Lovely.
I let out a long sigh and pushed myself up. Once I changed, I grabbed my bike from where it leaned against the office wall and made my way through the locker room. Thankfully, Teddy was still out on the ice, so I didn’t have to deal with him. Most of the guys on the team treated me like just another coach, but Teddy was different. Always insistent on becoming everyone’s friend. It was exhausting.
By the time I reached the arena's exit, rush hour had hit. It was another reminder of why I didn’t own a car in this city. Too much traffic, too much crime, too much money.
I loved it here, though. This was where I’d grown up, where memories of my parents lingered in every corner. My house, which had once been theirs, was probably the only reason I could afford to live here on an assistant AHL coach’s salary.
When I finally arrived atmy three-story Victorian townhome, the exhaustion from the bike ride hit me in full force. I almost wished I had a car just to make the trip easier. I wheeled my bike around to the side of the house, a Victorian pink building covered in winding vines, and leaned it against the wall before heading back to the front.
My parents had loved this house. They’d renovated every inch, crafted to my mom’s meticulous taste, with little input from my father. She’d been… bossy. Some people said I was just like her. I knew what I wanted, knew what I didn’t want, and wasn’t afraid to go for it. That trait had made coaching the perfect career for me.
Leafy palms lined the stone steps leading up to the front door, their shadows stretching in the late afternoon sun. I unlocked the door and stepped inside. The house was due for an update, but I couldn’t bring myself to make any changes. So, it remained in a suspended state, frozen in time. The only room that had changed since I was a child was my bedroom.
I sensed right away that Travis was gone. The silence spoke volumes. He was loud—so loud—and we were loud together, our frequent arguments echoing through the house. But we’d lasted this long for a reason. We loved each other, or at least, I thought we did. Maybe it was naïveté or something else I hadn’t quite figured out yet, but I still wanted to believe that was enough.
In the kitchen, the green cabinets and Formica countertops greeted me, the familiar scene only adding to the weight of the moment. I pulled a box of protein bars from the cupboard—the only meal I had the energy for today. Grabbing the last two, I made my way up the steep stairs, carefully avoiding the wobbly step, and ducked into the room I shared with Travis. It was one of those "watchingBridgertonin bed" kind of nights.
I managed to make it through three episodes and both protein bars before I heard the door downstairs creak open. Darkness had settled in, and I hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights. It was my petty way of being an asshole. As I listened to Travis fumble around down the hall, I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. The house was old, with a mishmash of light switches, so I knew it had to be taking him forever to find one.
His heavy footsteps on the stairs told me when he finally had.
I sat up in bed, pausing the TV, and waited.
Travis stopped in the doorway, swaying slightly, and met my gaze as I flipped on the bedside lamp.
“Have fun?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Autumn had always been a sore subject for me. The two of them had history, but for three years, Travis had promised me they were just friends now. I wasn’t an idiot, though. I saw the way she looked at him. My perfect fiancé with his perfect job at Salesforce, his perfect, loving family, that perfect fucking smile I once loved so much.
It was absent now.
