“It’s beautiful,” I mumbled, annoyed that I was in my head rather than in the moment. “We’ll have to clear the path to the parking lot and then toward the main entrance.”
“You already have it scheduled.” Preston’s hazel eyes found mine. His breath came out in puffs, clouds of condensation forming due to the cold. “You’ll want an event sign somewhere too. Something orange and blue.”
“Got the supplies back at the house. I can place it there.” I pointed toward the curved path that took you either farther into campus or the rink. “I can’t believe we’re doing this. It seems…chaotic.”
“You love chaos though. Now, come on. Let’s go inside. I’m cold as fuck.”
We made the ten-minute walk toward the rink, taking our time and not falling. My eyes stung, and my face actually hurt from the cold. My bones trembled from the deep cold seeping in, but all that was forgotten when Preston opened the side door to the rink and ushered me in.
“Warmth! We made it!”
Preston chuckled but rubbed his hands together and blew into his fists. “Yeah, might’ve underestimated how bad that was. We can hang here for a bit and warm up before going back.”
“Great plan. We won’t…get in trouble here, will we?” I’d rather break my own bone than get Preston in trouble.
“Does that excite you, Jordan?” he asked, a glint to his eyes. “But no, I would never put you in a position that would harm you. I texted Coach, and he said it was totally fine.”
Relief spread through me, along with something warm and heavy in my chest. Preston meant those words with every part of his soul. He would never put me in harm’s way. My eyes prickled from the assurance and love coming from him.
Had he always been like this? So kind and thoughtful and amazing?
“Okay I gotta take some of this off.” He took off his hats and coat, leaving him in a long-sleeved hockey T-shirt. The bright orange and blue made his eyes sparkle somehow, and my breath left my lungs.
What was happening to me?
“Oh god, is there something on my face?” He frowned. “You’re staring at me weird.”
“Sorry.” I blushed and took off my coat and hat, leaving my purple earmuffs and sweatshirt. “Nothing on your face, just thinking.”
“Main entrance is this way.” He held out a hand, then made a fist and shoved it in his pocket. “Let’s game plan from the welcome to the ice.”
Had he wanted to hold my hand but then changed his mind? Why?
Focus.
The event.
I shoved my thoughts away and reminded myself of what was at stake: my grade, my future, my mom’s attitude. All of that. “Yes, let’s do a walkthrough.”
We photographed the places where we could hang decorations, from the main doors down to the ice. It would look incredibly cool, especially with the additional lights we’d hang. Preston impressed the hell out of me.
“You’re good at this,” I said, my voice deeper than usual.
His gaze met mine as we stood right at the edge of the ice, something warm and soft crossing his face. But then it was gone, and he shrugged. “I guess I like a little chaos too. It’s why hockey is so fun for me. It’s organized chaos, and you’ve gotta lean on each other and work together. But thank you.”
He returned his attention back to the ice, and I missed having his attention on me. I didn’t know what that meant, and I hated the knot in my throat that kept returning. “You’re amazing,” I whispered, refusing to look at him. “Just, thank you for all of your help with this event.”
“Of course, J.”
“You could go into event planning or community relations, you know. You’re so good with people and organizing.”
The tips of his ears turned red, and he gave me a sheepishlook. “I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I figured I’d do sports management if hockey doesn’t work out.”
“Do you want hockey to work out though?”
I couldn’t believe I never asked these questions, that I didn’t know Preston’s deepest desires and dreams. Yet another reason why I’d be a shit person to date.
“You know, it’s weird. I do and I don’t.” He stared at the ice, gripping the back of his neck. “I’m good enough to have it be an option to play in the NHL, but it’d be a grind. I’d start in minors and work my way up, if I was lucky. I don’t…I’ve always felt I’d find my way back to it but not play professionally.”
