Because, turns out, I’ve been masking it for years…until the mask started to erode.
“Hey,” Liam says, like he just remembered and not like we’re in the middle of talking about my life-altering news. “You still want me to come by next week? Help with those drills?”
“Please.”
“Just checking. Didn’t know if things were getting shuffled around with Emma’s schedule and everything.”
“They’re not,” I say. “We’re keeping it consistent. It matters with this group.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a smile there. This is why I like him. We go from deep convo back to normal in zero-point-two seconds flat.
“That’s why she’s been bringing me in more,” I add. “So it’s not a whole reset this week.”
“They’re used to you now.”
“Mostly.”
“Pretty sure half of them just like you because you don’tmake them do suicides,” he says, a chuckle underlining his words.
“I do make them do suicides.”
“Not like she does.”
I don’t argue that. Emma’s version of “conditioning” has always been aggressive.
“She’s got enough going on,” I say.
“Yeah,” Liam agrees. “Wedding alone would be enough.”
I nod once, chuckling. Emma doesn’t do anything halfway. She never has. She’s the oldest. First one on the ice. First one to take it all the way. Olympics. Gold medals. Everything that came with it. And now, she’s built something of her own with this 14U girls ice hockey team. Giving back to the very thing that inspired her and put her on her path. Her legacy.
Which means I’m not going to be the one who lets it slip.
We come off the highway a minute later, the car slowing as we merge into lighter traffic. The rhythm changes. Less movement. More stops.
Liam taps the brakes as we roll up to a red light, and I let my gaze drift out the window.
It’s busier in this part of town. People move along the sidewalk—couples, someone walking a dog, a woman balancing a coffee in one hand and her phone in the other.
But then I see something, and I do a double take.
For a second, I think it’s her. Same height. Same long brown hair with blonde highlights. Same quick, purposeful walk. My focus sharpens automatically, tracking…
And it’s not her. Not unless she can fly.
My hand comes up before I think about it, fingers brushing lightly across my mouth. I drop my hand and exhale. I shake my head once, more to myself than anything.
It was random.
It doesn’t matter.
She needed my lips…or rather, an out.
“Next right,” I say, turning my head back toward the windshield and replaying the moment she looked back.
It was only once. Like she couldn’t help it. But also like she knew I’d still be there.
“Hey,” Liam says, snapping his fingers lightly. “Earth to Ty. Are you listening?”
