“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Shut up and skate,” he says, crouching into position.
I huff a laugh, drop my weight forward, and the second Coach McKibbon blows the whistle, we take off.
Alex is fast—annoyingly so—but I push harder, driving my legs until they burn. We’re neck and neck, blades scraping, ice spitting under us. I fling myself into the finish, slamming into the boards a fraction ahead of him.
Alex groans behind me. “I should’ve known I didn’t stand a chance. You’ve been on fire since we got here. It’s annoying.”
“Can’t dim greatness, buddy,” I wink, happy that the effort I’ve been putting in to prove I’m more than just a nepo baby has started to pay off. I might’ve fucked up during the Fun Run, but I’m proving myself in practice and our games, which is more important.
“Hey, Hendricks,” Brooks calls out.
Brooks tips his bearded chin toward me before pointing his stick over to the stands and making his way toward me.
“There's someone here for you.”
I groan, already bracing myself. Perfect. Dad’s back for round two this week, either ready to film some quick segment or to talk to Coach McKibbon about my progress. I’ve told him he needs to chill, and that every time he shows up, it undermines my performance with my teammates, but sometimes I don’t think he hears me. Not when said teammates are acting so happy to see him and get advice from him.
Pushing off the boards, I keep my head down, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
He just wants to be here for you.
Still, there are times I wish he’d accepted that damn broadcasting gig withChally Sportswhen he retired instead of this stupid reality show. There’s no denying his personality is made for TV, but he said he didn't want it. That he needed a few years off to let his body rest before going anywhere near a rink again.
Odd reason considering he won’t leavemydamn rink alone.
Brooks skates past and slaps my shoulder. “Don’t look so anxious, man. It’s not your dad.”
That makes me look up.
“It’s not?”
“It’s a pretty girl.” He lifts his brows, smiling.
Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because honestly, I can’t decide what’s worse: my dad showing up to cheer me on like I’m twelve, or another girl hoping we’re destined soulmates because she found some viral compatibility test online. It’s happened more times than I can count. Last week, a senior had a laminated printout explaining how our zodiac signs aligned perfectly. She somehow knew my exact birth time.
I didn’t ask how she knew.
“Shit, Hendricks,” Erik calls out, amazement dripping from his voice. “Am I dreaming, or is that the girl you’re obsessed with—watching you like she wants to kill you?”
Girl I’m obsessed with…?
He’s staring toward the stands with the same awe he had the day my dad walked in. I follow his gaze and—
“Fuck!”
My feet slide out from under me. Thankfully, Alex and Brooks are close enough to grab my arms before I make a monumental fool of myself… again.
“Everything okay there, buddy?” Alex asks, way too amused.
“Yeah. Everything is fine,” I grumble, convincing no one.
Fuck. What I wouldn’t give for it to be my dad or a fangirl instead of her. Laura is standing there, and her eyes are focused on me.
My balls shrivel in my compression pants.
What the hell is she doing here?
