Page 155 of Puck Me Back to Life

“Fuck off.” But Ash is smiling as he pulls away.

My entire face feels like it's on fire.

Ash looks unbearably pleased with himself.

“You planned that,” I snap.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Liar.”

Ash kisses my shoulder. “Guilty.”

The easy laughter filling the room settles some of the tension that had been building inside me all morning. For a few precious minutes, I almost forget why today is difficult.

Then the locker room door opens. Noah Grove walks inside carrying his equipment bag over one shoulder. He's younger than William had been. His auburn-brown hair is a little longer, curling against the back of his neck beneath a baseball cap.

The resemblance still steals the air from my lungs. My body goes completely still.

Noah's eyes move across the room and they land on me. For one suspended moment, neither of us moves.

I force myself to nod. A small acknowledgment.

Professional.

Respectful.

Noah's expression doesn't change. His gaze slides away almost immediately, like I'm another piece of furniture. He walks past my stall without saying a word. My heartbeat starts climbing again.

A hand settles firmly on my shoulder.

Dante. I hadn't even realized he'd moved.

“Don't worry about him,” he says quietly.

I keep watching Noah unpack his gear across the room. “Yeah. You're right.”

Across the locker room, Ash meets my eyes. He doesn't smile. He doesn't say anything. He simply holds my gaze for a second longer than anyone else would.

A silent reminder. You're not alone.

For the first time since Noah walked through the door, I believe it.

The rest of practice is…normal. I'd forgotten hockey could still feel like this.

Not easy or carefree. Just familiar.

The first few drills pass without anything remarkable happening. Coach runs us through breakouts, neutral-zone transitions, and rush entries before splitting us into units to work on special teams. My body slips into routines it's known since I was six years old. My feet move before I consciously think about them. The ice still makes sense, even when the rest of my life doesn't.

Every now and then I catch Ash looking at me. Not enough for anyone else to notice. Just enough for me. It's strangely reassuring.

By the second water break, the locker room conversation from earlier has apparently become the most interesting thing that's happened all week.

Tyler skates backward beside Ash while we're waiting for Coach to reset the drill. “So.”

Ash glances over. “So?”

“How long have you two actually been together?”