Derek walked away, leaving Mac standing there with ice in his veins. That photo. Rachel's cardigan. The way Derek had described her, like he'd been studying her, memorizing her.
Behind him, Jamie skated up. "What did that asshole want?"
"To mess with my head," Mac said quietly, watching Derek disappear through the exit.
"Did it work?"
Mac turned to look at his best friend. "He told me Rachel met with him for coffee. Did you know about that?"
Jamie's expression shifted to surprise. "Mac—"
"She didn't tell me."
"Maybe she didn't think it was important."
"Or maybe Derek's right that she doesn't trust me." Macshook his head, frustrated with himself. "No. That's what he wants for me to doubt Rachel."
"Then don't give him what he wants." Jamie set his jaw. "Talk to Rachel. Ask her directly."
"Yeah." Mac took a breath, trying to center himself. "Yeah, you're right."
But the seed was already planted.
And Derek knew it.
Coach blew his whistle. "MacKenzie! Back on the ice! We're running breakout drills!"
Mac skated back to the team, trying to focus on hockey instead of the growing knot of anxiety in his chest.
But Derek's words echoed:
Ask her about our coffee meeting.
39
Mac
The team was cooling down, unlacing skates and peeling off equipment, when Luke brought up the obvious.
"So that was Matthews watching practice," Luke said. "Creepy fuck."
"That was strategic," Jamie corrected, pulling off his jersey. "He wanted to intimidate us."
"Well, it didn't work," Tyler said flatly. "I'm not intimidated by a man who wears a suit to a hockey rink."
"He looked like a tool," Luke interrupted. "That's what he looked like."
Cole, sitting on the bench nearby, spoke up quietly. "He's escalating. Showing up at our practice. He's trying to get in our heads."
"Is it working?" Tyler asked, looking directly at Mac.
Jamie, sensing the mood needed lifting, pivoted. "Okay, subject change. Moving day Saturday. Let's talk logistics."
Another collective groan.
"There are subcategories."
"That's excessive," Luke said.
