The rest of the game passes in a blur. I play with an intensity that surprises even me, stealing glances toward the stands between shifts. Every time I look, Cheyenne is watching the game intently, her expression shifting with each play. She’s always been a genuine fan of the sport, even before I joined the team.
It’s one of the things I’ve always appreciated about her.
By the second intermission, we’re up 3-1, and I’ve contributed a goal and an assist. As we file into the locker room, Cameron claps me on the shoulder.
“Whatever’s got you fired up tonight, keep it going,” he says.
I mumble something noncommittal, not ready to examine too closely what—or who—might be responsible for my elevated play tonight.
The third period is a battle with the other team pushing hard to close the gap. But every time I catch a glimpse of blue in section 114, I somehow find another burst of energy.
When the final buzzer sounds, we’ve won 4-2. But my first thought isn’t about the win or my performance.
It’s about finding Cheyenne.
The locker room is raucous with victory music and journalists circling for quotes. I answer questions on autopilot, ignoring one of the female reporters’ flirty advances, my mind already fast-forwarding to after the press has gone. Finally, the media clears out, and I can shower and change. I take more care than usual with my appearance, opting for a button-down.
“Hot date tonight?” Cameron asks, raising an eyebrow at my attire.
“Just meeting my sister,” I say, which is technically true.
He looks skeptical, but thankfully he doesn’t push.
By the time I exit the locker room, most of the team has dispersed. The corridor outside is quieter now, just a few lingering staff and family members waiting for players. I scan the area, looking for Genna’s dark hair or Cheyenne’s waves, when Paul approaches, his expression determined but nervous.
“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Thanks for making time.”
“No problem,” I respond, though I’m still scanning the corridor. “What’s up?”
Before Paul can answer, I spot them—Genna and Cheyenne, approaching from the family waiting area. Genna is carrying a festive tin, while Cheyenne holds a simpler container.
“We come bearing gifts!” Genna announces, her voice a little too bright. She’s nervous, I realize. I’ve known my sister long enough to recognize the slight pitch change when she’s anxious.
Paul turns at the sound of her voice, and the transformation is immediate. His whole body relaxes, his face lighting up with a smile I’ve never seen during team functions.
Oh. OH.
I look between my rookie teammate and my sister, the pieces suddenly clicking into place.
“The cookies are partly a bribe,” Genna says as Cheyenne hands me a Tupperware container. “To butter you up before we tell you something.”
“Really?” I pop the lid, pulling a cookie out and taking a bite. Gooey peanut butter goodness melts in my mouth, and I let out a light moan. “Mmm. That’s good. So, what’s on your mind?”
“Well...” My sister takes a deep breath, and I almost laugh at how weird she and Paul are acting about whatever it is that they have going on. “I was thinking Paul and I could hang out—”
“We’re going on a date,” Paul inserts, blurting out what I had already put together. “If that’s okay with you, because I don’t want to cause any riffs with the team.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “You want to take mylittle sisteron adate?”
“Yes. I mean, if—if that’s okay...” Paul drags a palm over the back of his neck.
“Does he make you happy?” I ask Genna directly, ignoring Paul for the moment.
Genna nods, her smile softening. “Yeah, he does. He’s sweet and funny and actually listens when I talk.”
I turn to Paul, giving him my most serious stare. “You hurt her, they’ll never find your body.”
“Dylan!” Genna protests, but Paul just nods solemnly.
