“Nice work today, Twelve.”
It took a second for his words to register. “What?”
I must not have heard him correctly. I felt like I’d been playing well below my level this week. Maybe because I’d spent too much time focusing on how the rest of the team was doing, and not enough on my own performance.
“You made some nice plays out there,” Foster said.
I really couldn’t work this guy out. Maybe I was dreaming. Though if I was, I’d rather dream up a world where Mackenzie hadn’t skipped training with me for the third time in a row that morning. Things wouldn’t be awkward between us. And we certainly wouldn’t be trying to just be friends.
She was coming off the ice right then and I couldn’t focus on what else Coach Foster was saying. Mackenzie pulled her helmet from her head, sweat making her hair stick to her face. She looked exhausted from a hard practice, and yet my heart only beat harder at the sight of her.
I’d noticed a big improvement in her game this week. In fact, the whole team had impressed me. Our sessions seemed more intense, with players working harder than ever. And Mackenziewas benefiting. Our teammates were putting far more heat on their shots, shouting words of support and encouragement, and listening to her instructions on defense without hesitation. Maybe team bonding was actually working.
She looked over and caught me watching. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either. When our eyes met, I felt desire burning low in my gut. But there was also another, more powerful sensation. A stupidly warm feeling bubbling up in my chest. One that made me want to do something—anything—to make her smile.
“Are you listening, Twelve?”
My eyes shot back to Coach Foster, who was glancing between Mackenzie and me with suspicion.
“You don’t need a reminder to stay away from my daughter, do you?”
I most definitely did, but I quickly shook my head. “Don’t worry, Coach. She’d rather punch me again than come near me.”
“Again?”
“Uh… it was just a misunderstanding.”
“What kind of misunderstanding?” he growled.
Shit. Shit. Shit. He looked like he wanted to kill me. Upside: if I survived, Coach Foster would go to prison, and Mackenzie and I could live happily ever after. Downside: I might end up dead.
“Parker returned my keys to me in the parking lot,” Mackenzie said, appearing beside us. “It was dark. I got scared and punched him. No big deal.”
That was easy enough for her to say. She wasn’t the one on the receiving end. Still, I was relieved she’d explained soI didn’t have to.
Foster rubbed the bridge of his nose like we’d both just aged him ten years. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
Mackenzie stiffened. “You don’t tellmeeverything, Dad.”
She turned and walked away before he could reply. It was obvious Mackenzie was referring to the secret she’d discovered about her mom, but judging by the confused look on her dad’s face, he clearly had no idea. I made a quick exit before his confusion turned to frustration and he took it out on me.
I caught up to Mackenzie before she reached the girls’ locker room.
“Hey,” I said, stopping beside her. “Thanks for getting me out of that.”
She turned to look at me. If I was a dog, I was pretty sure my tail would have been wagging simply because she glanced my way.
“It’s what friends do, right?”
Friends. I preferred it when she hated my guts. I’d spent years watching Grayson in the friend zone with Paige, and I’d do just about anything to avoid that hellhole. I’d take a warzone with Mackenzie over the friendzone any day.
“Right,” I grunted. “How was your run this morning?”
Despite the fact she’d been finding reasons to train without me, she hadn’t stopped putting in extra sessions. At first, she’d insisted she could go to the weights room alone. Then she set up a session for herself with Seth and Owen. Today, it had been a run. I knew exactly why she was doing it, but I hated it all the same.
“Uh, yeah, it went well.” She glanced away, watching assome of our teammates passed us. It was for the best if we didn’t spend time together. I’d merely looked in her direction tonight and her dad had started freaking out. Even now, I probably shouldn’t be talking to her, but I couldn’t seem to resist.
“Things don’t have to be weird between us,” I told her. “You know that, right?”
