Guardian loved the rink; there was no doubt about that.
It was his first time on the ice, but he charged across it with reckless joy, his little legs splaying out behind him as he slid on his belly completely carefree.
A smile tugged at my lips, light and easy. For a moment, I could forget that I wasn’t supposed to be here today.
Resting. What a stupid idea. The team—and the doctors—wanted me off my feet, doing nothing while I healed from my injury. Not to mention the concussion that still made my vision blur and my head feel like it was wrapped in fog.
I gripped the wall by the bench as a wave of dizziness washed over me.
“You okay, Ted?” Ryder’s voice pulled me from my thoughts as he stepped onto the ice. I’d practically begged him to bring me along to practice, and he’d only agreed so I’d stop pestering him.
I shook my head to clear the fog and steadied myself. “Fine.” Even though I was in shoes instead of skates. Even though I’d have to leave the ice when the rest of the team showed up. But it wasn’t in me to complain—not around other people, anyway. So, I smiled and acted like everything was perfectly fine. As usual.
Guardian barked excitedly as he raced toward me, slipping into another slide. He came to an abrupt stop at my feet, rolling onto his back as he waited for a belly rub. His tongue hung out the side of his mouth, the picture of bliss.
Then, something warm splattered against my hand, and I cursed under my breath.
“Uh, Ted,” Ryder called, looking down at the dog. “Our dog is peeing on himself.”
“Well, fuck,” I muttered, as the pee arced through the air. I dodged it just in time to avoid getting hit, but the stream splattered onto Guardian’s chest. He didn’t seem to notice at all. Great. Now, he needed a bath.
My knee twinged as I bent to scoop him up, and I paused, hands on his little body, trying to steady myself. This concussion was really messing with my life. Rowan’s laughter reached my ears, and without thinking, I flipped him the middle finger before lifting Guardian into my arms.
“Looks like you’ve got a mess to clean up,” I teased Ryder with a wink. “Captain.” Then, I stepped off the ice, heading for the locker room to clean up my dog. Whatever Ryder, Sydney, and Rowan liked to say, Guardian was mine. Sure, I’d gotten him as a team mascot, but while the others were wrapped up in their own lives, it had been me and Guardian for weeks. Rowan was putting in extra practice with Sullivan. Ryder practically lived in San Jose with Sydney whenever he wasn’t required for team stuff.
That left me in a mostly empty house, except for my dog, who, let’s be real, was my new best friend. Screw Ryder and all his love for my sister. Guardian was better than him.
I realized how ridiculous that thought was, but I didn’t care.
Guardian tried to bolt as soon as I set him down in the shower stall, but even with my injured knee, I was faster. I snatched him back, turned on the water, making sure it waswarm but not hot, before letting the first drop fall on him. He deserved the best, even if he didn’t seem to appreciate it.
He yipped and whined the entire time, but I finally got him clean. Before I could dry him off, he dashed out of the stall, tearing through the locker room and into the tunnel.
I tried to run after him, but pain shot up my leg, and I had to lean against the cinderblock wall to catch my breath. Heated voices reached me from the direction of the ice, and I limped toward them, already recognizing who was speaking.
Ryder and Frankie were facing off in front of the bench, neither of them looking happy. Rowan stood off to the side, holding a still-wiggling, wet Guardian under one arm. I walked over, and Rowan passed me the dog. Guardian immediately stopped fighting and nuzzled into me, soaking my shirt, but I barely noticed as I caught the words “stop” and “dancing.”
“What do you mean we have to stop dancing?” I growled, cursing my knee as I tried to hide my limp. I marched up to them, frustration burning in my chest. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
Frankie’s blazing blue eyes snapped to me. “Am I speaking to you, Valentine?”
“You bet your ass you are,” I snapped. “I know Ryder’s the captain, but if you’re trying to tell us we can’t give our fans what they want, that involves all of us.”
“Giving the fans what they want?” Frankie shook her head, clearly unimpressed. “This is a hockey arena. The place where the team plays hockey, for actual hockey fans.”
I took a step closer, ignoring the sharp twinge in my knee and the pounding ache in my head. “And why are the fans even here? Because we fucking dance.” My words hit the air with a bite. She didn’t flinch, but I felt it. It wasn’t like me to lash out, but Frankie had this way of always pushing my buttons, always making me feel like I wasn’t enough.
She didn’t back away from my too-close presence. Instead, she met my gaze, her eyes locking onto mine. It didn’t take much. She was only a few inches shorter than me. There was a storm in her eyes, something raw and angry that simmered beneath the surface whenever she looked at me. I wasn’t sure what it was about me that made her go feral, but there was a part of me that didn’t hate it.
Her jaw clenched, and I took in every twitch of her muscles, every flick of those long lashes. Gods, she was beautiful. And furious. And frustrating.
“Like I said, this has nothing to do with you. I was tasked with talking to the captain, and you are decidedly not him.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck about your orders to Ryder,” I shot back, my voice tight. “I’m going to dance.” I knew how ridiculous I sounded, arguing over dancing during a hockey game. It was absurd. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling of belonging to it, of how much I had come to love it.
We had become the Savannah Bananas of hockey, and I refused to let that go, even if it meant defying the coach’s request.
“You. Are. A. Child,” she ground out, her words sharp and cutting.
