“Sure, but how… wait a second. Is this aSchitt’s Creekmoment? Are we having aSchitt’s Creekmoment?” He nodded. “Oh hell, that is… I am totally besotted with you now that I know you’ve watchedSchitt’s Creek.I have the entire series on DVD.”
“We have to watch them. Together.” He seemed so genuinely pleased my heart did a triple flip in my breast. “I have a day off today. Well, after morning skate. How about we get your cake in, then when skate is over, we spend the day eating cake and watching the Rose family find a new life?”
“That sounds amazing.” We both smiled like dorks at each other. “So howdoyou fold buttermilk into a batter?”
He shrugged. I stole a kiss. We Googled it.
FIFTEEN
Jari
Morning skate should have feltroutine by now, but it didn’t. I stepped onto the ice with a stupid, unguarded smile I hadn’t bothered to shut down after baking with Cam, legs loose, lungs full, stick light in my hands. The drills started immediately—line rushes, quick transitions, nothing fancy. Muscle memory took over, and for once, my head didn’t get in the way.
We cycled the puck low to high, Becks driving the boards, Mules planting himself in front of the crease like a wrecking ball. I cut wide, timed my stride, took the return pass clean, and snapped it back into space without thinking. It flowed. Easy. Right.
“Look at Lanky,” Becks called as we looped back into position. “Smiling like he knows a secret.”
“Jari,” I snapped at Becks, causing him to wince. "Sorry, I just don't like that nickname. Please leave it as Jari.”
“Yeah, man, sorry,” he said, and then smiled. “Still, that's one huge fucking smile you got going on today.”
Mules snorted. “Maybe he got some last night—what, you got a girl or something?”
Heat flashed through me, right on top of the whole Lanky shit, sharp and panicked, as if I’d been caught doing something wrong. A girl. A reason for the smile. An explanation. My brain went straight to worst-case instinct—had I let something show? Had I skated wrong, laughed wrong, existed too openly?
I almost missed the next pass.
“Whoa,” Becks said, laughing as I bobbled it and recovered. “Earth to Jari—puck is in play.”
They were still laughing, but it wasn’t mean or edged with judgment. It was the easy and familiar teasing that had been building quietly over the last few weeks. I’d noticed how no one was treating me differently anymore, not even the guys who’d been cautious at the start. Even them. We were fifteen games into the season, and teammates asked my opinion during drills, nodded when I said something useful, and clapped their sticks when I made the right read. Random guys complimented small things I did right, pulled me into conversations without thinking, and skated with me as if I was supposed to be there. The casual inclusion caught me off guard.
Maybe it had made me relax too much.
Am I smiling too much? What if they find out? What if…
“No girl,” I said, then added before I could stop myself, “if I were this happy about a girl, I’d be falling over my own skates.” I made a show of wobbling, deliberately sloppy, stick clacking on the ice.
Becks barked out a laugh. Mules missed the whistle and had to scramble back into position, shaking his head. “Jesus, don’t encourage him,” Becks said, still grinning. “Next thing you know, he’ll be doing stand-up between shifts.”
“Only if you tip,” I shot back, surprised at how easy it felt, how natural it was to give it right back.
That set them off laughing, chirping over each other as we reset for another drill, the whistle cutting through the noise.Mules gave me a light shove with his shoulder as we lined up. “Whatever it is,” he added, lower now, “it’s working. We're flying.”
Flying. The word stuck with me as we took off again, blades biting clean, bodies moving in sync. No one was watching me for mistakes. No one was bracing for impact because of my name. Becks trusted I’d be there on the back check. Mules dropped the puck into my path without looking. They trusted me.
I guess this was what it felt like to be part of a line, and it scared me almost as much as it made me happy.
Happier knowing I was going back to Cam's place for cake and comedy shows about an inclusive town with quirky people.
Or whatever.
Cap waited until we were all sitting in our cubbies. “Before anyone bolts,” he said, eyes sweeping the group, “quick reminder. Charity gala’s next Friday. Black tie.”
A collective groan rolled through the locker room.
Cap’s gaze landed on me. “Jari. You got a tux?”
I shook my head automatically. “No.” I paused. “I don’t really… do tuxes.”
