"Hey."
"Good practice?"
"Yeah. Fine. Normal." I gripped my stick like it might escape. "You?"
"Got some good shots this morning." He stopped and didn't say anything for a minute. "I have news. I called Naomi. Got another two-day extension."
The words took a second to process. "You're staying?"
"Two more days. Maybe more, if the footage justifies it." He looked into my eyes. "I wanted you to know. Before I told anyone else."
Before I told anyone else.
His hand moved—not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of it near my forearm where it rested on the boards.
"I'm not going to make this a big production," he said, voice low enough that only I could hear. "I know you've got practice. I know there are people watching. I just—" He exhaled. "I wanted you to know I'm not running. Okay?"
I'm not running.
Three words. Simple. They landed like stones dropped into still water.
"Okay," I said. My voice was rough and halting.
His fingers brushed the back of my glove—barely a touch, gone before anyone could notice—and then he stepped back.
"Good luck with practice. I'll be around."
He walked toward his equipment, and I stood there with my heart flip-flopping like a hooked catfish lying on the dock.
Coach's whistle blew. I pushed back onto the ice.
After practice, the locker room emptied in waves. Jake threw me a look that saidwe're not done talking about this,while Evan steered him toward the door. Hog paused just long enough to squeeze my shoulder.
Heath lingered. He was at his stall, folding and refolding the same shirt like he was waiting for something.
"You don't have to babysit me," I said.
He looked up. "I wasn't—the shirt has a weird crease."
"That shirt has been creased since you bought it. It's a characteristic, not a flaw."
Heath looked at the fabric in his hands. Then back at me.
"You helped me yesterday. After the hit. What you said—it helped. So if you're going through something, I wanted you to know I'm here."
The offer was clumsy and sincere.
"I'm fine," I said automatically.
Heath nodded. Started to turn away.
"Actually, I don't know if I'm fine. I think something is happening, and I don't know what to do about it, and my brain keeps trying to convince me it's going to fall apart before it even starts."
Heath turned back. "What kind of something?"
"The kind where someone sees you. And is into you. And doesn't run." I swallowed. "And you don't know what to do with that because you've spent your whole life assuming the seeing would be the part that made them leave."
Heath was quiet for a moment. "That sounds terrifying," he said finally.
