“And that’s it.” I shrug. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same if it were Tatum.”
Talon studies me, eyes sharp. “Tatum’s my sister. I’ve seen you lose it when people are assholes to Atlee, but this was different. You don’t usually get this protective over someone you don’t even know.”
I don’t answer right away.
Because that’s the part I don’t have an explanation for yet. Talon and I are wired the same when it comes to our sisters. But he’s right. I have too much riding on this season to start something with some prick over a girl I didn’t know, especially when she was handling it herself.
Owen stands, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Whatever it was,” he says, “you didn’t sleep.”
“No kidding,” Kade adds. “You look like hell.”
“Appreciate the support,” I say flatly.
Talon grabs his keys, pausing by the door. “Just don’t do anything that puts this season or your career at risk.”
I meet his gaze. “I’m not stupid, but thanks.”
He holds my eyes for a beat longer, then nods once and heads out. Kade grabs his duffel and follows, the door slamming shut behind them.
I don’t bother with small talk as I finish my coffee and grab my gear, already mentally shifting into practice mode. Owen’sfootsteps trail me a moment later, but neither of us says anything.
By the time we pile into my truck and pull up to the arena, the sky is still pale, the sun just starting to creep over the horizon. Inside, the cold hits me square in the face, and I welcome it. I need something more than my earlier coffee to wake me up before I step onto the ice.
I go through the routine without thinking, strapping on my pads, taping my fingers, and letting muscle memory take over. When I finally step onto the rink, the quiet hum of the empty arena settles something in my chest.
My skates carve clean lines as I stretch. For a few minutes, it’s just me and the cold ice.
And that’s exactly what I need.
I’m circling the zone when movement in the stands behind the net catches my eye.
At first, I ignore it. Someone always wanders between the coaching staff and our trainers. But then the light hits just right, and I see her.
Light blond hair, loose strands framing her face.
It stands out against the gray of the empty seats, almost glowing under the arena lights. I find myself tilting my head, my gaze locking in on Brinley.
She looks down at the ice, and our eyes meet.
Seeing her again hits like a cross-check. I slow without realizing it, skates gliding as I stare up into eyes I recognize, even if I don’t want to admit it yet.
She’s sitting near the top, tucked in on herself like she’s trying not to draw attention. I can’t make out her expression from the ice, but the way she holds herself makes me wonder why she’s here so early, alone in the stands.
“Earth to Rowdy.”
I blink and nearly eat it when a puck skids past my blade.
Owen skates by, a smirk firmly in place. “You planning to join practice or you waiting for Coach to light your ass on fire for not paying attention?”
“Shut up,” I mutter, pushing off again.
Talon glides past slowly. His eyes track where mine were for half a second too long before he looks back at me.
One brow lifts.
“That her?” he asks.
I don’t answer fast enough.
