She stood up, and Austin shook his head, then, very slowly and very clearly, he pointed at me. I cast a glance at Emma, who was still standing and now looking at me.
I was frozen in my seat. I hated being the center of attention like this. What if my shirt was too wrinkly? What if someone was taking another photo, which meant my mom was going to have another chance of seeing this...
“Come here,” Austin mouthed, and Stassi put a hand on my lower back.
“Go,” she said, and then, with a little push from her, I stood and walked down the ramp toward the edge of the rink.
I realized we were right behind the dugout... No, wait, fuck, that’s what you call it in baseball. We were behind where the players sat.
Austin wobbled in and took off his helmet. He was sweating, his curls loosely framing his face.
“One more kiss—for good luck.”
“You’re making a scene,” I hissed.
“Please.” He stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, letting it quiver playfully.
I rolled my eyes and lifted my hands to his jaw. Before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in, and our mouths met. The noise of the arena faded away as the kiss deepened for a heartbeat, his lips warm against mine. His hand came up to cradle my cheek. The faint taste of salt from his sweat mixed with his familiar scent, sending a shiver down my spine.
When I pulled away, I whispered, “I bet everyone will love that.”
He shook his head and put on his helmet. “I don’t care about everyone else.” He then turned, returned to the ice, and skated away.
I stood there, stunned, replaying his words as if they might make more sense the second time. I took a steadying breath and walked up to where Stassi, Auburn, and Emma were sitting, doing my best to move gracefully despite the confusion swirling inside me. It wasn’t the time to unravel it. I’d figure it out later.
Auburn glanced over at me, beaming as I settled beside Stassi, who gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?”
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. Relief washed over me as the buzzer sounded and the ice cleared.
“The game’s starting,” Stassi said, and I nodded again, clinging to the distraction it promised.
The game began with the buzzer announcing the puck drop. Red versus blue, the teams clashed with an intensity that filled the air. Austin played right winger, at least that’s what Stassi told me. I had no idea what was going on, but his movements were quick and decisive. Stassi’s husband held down the center, calling plays and keeping their team steady. The red jerseys wove together like a well-practiced symphony.
Austin stood out, not because I knew him, but because he played with an undeniable fluidity that made it look easy. He maneuvered through defenders with the kind of confidence that spoke to years of experience. I hardly believed he hadn’t played professionally in years. Each time he skated past, he drew my gaze whether I wanted it to or not. It was like watching a part of him I’d never known, one so comfortable and at home that it was almost startling.
The game went on, players jostling and fighting for control. Bodies collided against the boards, the sound echoing as shouts from the benches cut through the air. Tension boiled over when Austin and Ledger were on top of each other. Their skates tangled for a moment before words were exchanged. Before I could process it, they were shoving each other, sticks clattering as hands flew to chest protectors.
Gasps rippled through the crowd, and beside me, Auburn shot to her feet, shock widening her eyes and parting her lips. Emma grabbed her arm, and they said something that I couldn’t quite make out. The referees were there in seconds, separating them, their whistles shrill and urgent.
Just as suddenly, the game resumed. Austin adjusted his helmet, shaking off the altercation, and Ledger was thrown inthe penalty box. Austin threw himself into the game with a renewed focus that seemed almost defiant. His strides were longer, faster, as if he were chasing down something more than just the puck. Each pass he made was sharp, precise, and the red team fed off his energy, moving as one unit. Every play was seamless, every shot calculated.
Time seemed to blur until the final buzzer cut through the noise. The scoreboard lit up, and the red team had claimed victory by two points. The stands erupted in cheers, the sound vibrating throughout the arena and into my chest. I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath, completely caught up in the game—and in him.
As the players skated to a stop, sweaty and exhilarated, Ledger pulled off his helmet, his dark hair damp and sticking to his forehead. He stepped forward, raising his hand to the crowd. “Thank you to everyone who came out to support the charity.”
The applause that followed was deafening, filling the space with a wave of celebration that momentarily washed away the earlier tension.
Austin stood among his teammates, his chest rising and falling as he looked out over the cheering crowd. For a split second, his eyes found mine, and the expression there—triumphant, raw, and unapologetically alive—left me stunned, my heart thudding in a rhythm I couldn’t control.
I’d never needed him more than I did in that moment.
23
charlie
“I, uh, um—” I couldn’t form words as I watched Austin drop his hockey gear in the front room of the house.
He looked down at it, then back up to me. “Sorry. I’ll pick it up and put it away.”
