I didn't worry about any of that. I smiled. I couldn't stop smiling.
Hog knew, and instead of warning me off or threatening Adrian with bodily harm, he'd accepted it. Like it was a fact. Like it was fine.
Maybe it was fine.
Coach's whistle blasted across the rink. I snapped back into drill formation, still grinning, buzzing, and refusing to look at the tunnel where Adrian was probably setting up his camera.
The ice was perfect beneath my blades. I let myself fly.
When we returned to the locker room, it smelled like industrial disinfectant, tape adhesive, and whatever body spray Kowalczyk had started using that made him smell like a department store exploded.
I dropped onto my bench and reached for my stick tape. My knee bounced before I started wrapping.
A shadow fell across my lap.
I looked up.
Jake stood approximately six inches from my face, staring at me with the intensity of a man trying to read microfilm through someone else's skull.
"Can I help you?"
He didn't answer. Just kept staring. Then, his eyes narrowed.
"Your face is doing a thing," he said.
"My face is always doing things. It's a face. That's its job."
"Not this thing." He crouched down to eye level, which put him directly in my personal space. I leaned back. He leaned forward. "This is a specific thing. I've seen this thing before."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're glowing."
"I'm sweating. It's warm in here."
"You're glowing, and your knee is bouncing." Jake's face split into a grin that meant nothing good for me. "Your face never does that thing unless there's a crush situation."
My tape job went crooked. I ripped it off and started over.
"There's no crush situation."
"You sure there's not a crush situation?"
"I just said—"
"Because if there's a crush situation, I need to know about it. Team morale. Locker room dynamics. My personal entertainment." Jake fed off my discomfort like some kind of chaos vampire. "Is it the camera guy? It's the camera guy, isn't it? Because he's like thirty-five and here to film you, which is—"
"He's thirty-four."
The words were out before I could catch them.
Jake froze.
The entire locker room held its breath.
"He's thirty-four," Jake repeated slowly. "You know his exact age."
"That's not—I just—"
