It’s done.
I’mdone.
I have to be.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WHO’S THE ADULT HERE?
LOLA
Age 21
The rink lights buzz overhead like they’re angry at the cold. I’m tucked into the family section, third row up, wearing one of Tully’s team hoodies that swallows me whole. It still smells like him, even though it’s been washed since I “borrowed” it. My hands are wrapped around a paper cup of hot chocolate that’s gone lukewarm, and my eyes are on Tully.
Where they always seem to be now if he’s in the room.
Tully’s on fire tonight. He’s always fast, always precise, but lately with scouts in the stands, he’s become even more disciplined. He thrives under the pressure. I’ve never seen anything like it.
I never thought I’d be interested in hockey, and I’m not so much as I’m mesmerized by him. His schedule is crazy, and I don’t love having a boyfriend who has the ice as a mistress, but watching him play, it’s undeniable that he’s doing what hewas born to do. And when he’s off the ice, he’s mesmerized byme, so I really can’t complain.
Every time he’s out there playing, the puck finds him. I don’t understand all the terms, but I know when he does something amazing. Like now, when he makes a goal. The crowd erupts and chants his name. I feel it in my chest, and my heart soars even more when he looks up from the ice and finds me.
Mid-celebration, arms raised and helmet tipped back slightly, his eyes lock on mine. He grins—wide, boyish, the one that’s only for me—and I laugh.
I’ve becomethatgirl—me, the aloof girl who never planned on having a boyfriend in college. I am hopelessly in love…with a hockey player, much to my parents’ chagrin.
They’re being such snobs about Tully playing hockey, but I’m not surprised. They’ve always thought my art was a huge waste of time too. He keeps asking to meet my family and trying to get me to go meet his, but I keep putting it off. I don’t want my parents to hurt him, and I like this bubble we’ve been in.
The buzzer ends the period. Players file off. Tully lingers at the bench, chatting with a coach, then glances up again. He kisses two fingers and points them at me. My cheeks heat despite the cold.
A throat clears next to me, and I look up to see Daniel. Tully told me his advisor would be here tonight, but I’d hoped maybe he wasn’t here because he’d missed the game. Maybe he’s been sitting somewhere else this whole time, but now, he sits next to me.
He’s in a navy suit, no tie, receding hair slicked back. I think he’s somewhere in his mid-thirties. He’s been Tully’s advisor since last summer, and Tully talks about him like he’s a wizard. And I have to agree—he’s made a lot happen forTully even in the short time we’ve been dating. He cannot wait for Tully to be done with school so he can become his agent. I’ve met him twice before, but it’s always been quick hellos in a crowd. I shift uncomfortably, not loving the idea of talking to him without Tully around.
“Lola,” he says, his smile wide. “Enjoying the game?”
“Yeah. He’s incredible out there.”
“He is.” Daniel nods, eyes still on the ice, even though it’s empty. “He’s got everything—speed, hands, doesn’t get in his head. The kind of package that gets a player the career of his dreams.”
I smile, loving that for Tully. “He deserves it.”
Daniel turns to me then, his smile remaining steady. “He does. And he’s going to get it. But you know how this works, right? The climb? It’s brutal. Every eye will be on him. Every decision matters. One slip and the whole thing can stall.”
I nod slowly. I’ve heard Tully talk about the pressure—late nights studying tape, extra gym sessions, the diet that makes him grumpy when he’s hungry. I’ve helped him a lot with his studies, because that’s what’s been slipping.
“He’s handling it well,” I say.
“Sure. But distractions…” Daniel lets the word hang, then softens it with a chuckle. “I’m not saying you’re one. God, no. You seem solid. Grounded. And that’s great. It really is. But the girls out there?” He nods toward the nearby tunnel, where a cluster of women in tight dresses and team scarves are waiting with their phones out, giggling. “Look at them.”
He glances over to make sure I’m looking, and I take a deep breath. I haven’t missed the fact that all the women are laser-focused on my boyfriend. Tully leaves, and the girls stand there, hoping he’ll come back out.
“They’re already circling,” he continues. “And this is college. Wait till he’s pro. Endorsement parties, endless roadtrips, the media circling him nonstop—the attention doesn’t stop. It multiplies.”
I feel a prickle of unease. “He can handle it. He’s not easily distracted.”
“Of course he’s not.” Daniel pats my knee—quick, like he’s comforting a child—and I move my leg away from him, leaving his hand in the air. “Not now. But this life? It changes people. Or it changes the people around them. He’s going to need focus. Clarity. No anchors pulling him back when he’s trying to launch forward.”
