“Hmm?” she murmurs against my shoulder.
“Do you miss Boston?”
She exhales slowly. “I really do.”
“What do you miss the most?”
She tilts her head, considering. “Work. Shopping. The big city vibe. There’s just…energy there, you know? It’s so different from Snowberry Falls.”
I glance down at her, at the way her lashes brush her cheek, at the way she looks perfectly at home here with me despite her words. “You like it here too, though, don’t you?”
“Yes, but the city has more to offer.” She glances at me, eyes bright with ambition. “More opportunities for me.”
I nod, my chest tightening as I think about what she’s been through to claw her way back. “I really hope you get the job. It’d be nice. We could hang out.” I nudge her playfully, like we’re just friends, even though it doesn’t feel that way. Not anymore.
“I could come to your games. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you play in person.”
“Yeah,” I manage, but the word scrapes raw in my throat. My stomach knots. Jesus Christ, I want to stay on the Bucks so bad it hurts.
“You know I loved watching you play, right?”
“You did?” My brows lift. “I thought you just went to hang out with your dad.”
She smirks. “Sure, but you don’t spend that much time around a coach without picking up a few things.”
I tilt my head, curious despite myself. “So, what did you learn, Jay?”
Her gaze holds mine, steady and unflinching. “That you’re really talented.”
A laugh escapes me, but it sounds hollow. “Yeah, I can take a guy down when I need to.”
She doesn’t answer right away. Her silence stretches, weighted, until finally she says softly, “I really loved watching you.”
My head jerks toward her. “Wow, I didn’t know you were such a creeper.”
Her lips curve, teasing. “Well, now you do.” She inches closer, until her thigh brushes mine, the heat of her body seeping through the blanket. Her voice drops, quiet but sure. “You’ve got a lot of skill.”
“As an enforcer, you mean.”
She shakes her head. “You handle a stick as well as you handle an opponent. You’ve got more going on than you let on.” There’s a caution in her tone, like she knows she’s stepping into dangerous territory with me.
“That’s not what anyone wants,” I mutter, shifting in my seat, restless.
“I’m not so sure that’s true. What’s the worst that could happen if you showed them your stick and puck work?”
“That’s not what they pay me for,” I snap more sharply than intended. My jaw flexes as I drain the last sip of my coffee. “And if I step out of line, if I stop being what they expect, I get sent back.”
Her eyes soften, but she doesn’t back down. “What if you don’t?”
When I don’t answer, she traces her finger around the rim of her mug, choosing her words carefully. “You know, after #GobbleGate, my confidence was wrecked. I was terrified to put myself out there again. So, I hid. Came back here. But when you’ve lost it all. When you’ve already hit rock bottom…” she shrugs, lips twisting. “There’s nowhere to go but up. So, I took on the parade. Small steps, right?”
“Nothing small about that,” I say quickly.
“Well, that’s turning out to be true. But now I’m applying to the Bucks. Maybe I’ll get it, maybe I won’t. But what do I have to lose in trying?”
I run her words through my head, unsettled. “Nothing, I guess.”
She nods, quiet but certain.