by Lynn Rush
“Wow. Really? Jessa told me your dad was a pro once.”
“For a few years.” I shook my head.
“You trying to go pro, too?”
“Naw. I mean, well, maybe? Main goal is getting on the hockey team.”
“I bet you’re a shoo-in.”
“Could be, but nothing’s guaranteed. I need to prove I can hack it.”
“What do you mean? You obviously can.” She slowed down a little.
“I just…want to be respected for my talent, not given perks because of my last name, you know?”
“Ahhh…I get it. Because your dad was in the pros and…” She nodded. “I get it.”
“He’s not in the pros anymore. Now he, well, he has some businesses he runs.”
“As in…owns half the town, I hear.”
“So you’re talking to Jessa about me, then, huh?” I gave her a side glance. Sure, I was teasing her, but the thought of her asking Jessa sent a flash of heat through my chest.
“I might have asked her a…few questions.”
Shit. She probably knew my entire life history, then. Couldn’t keep anything quiet in this small town. Living here was both good and bad in that sense. Hopefully, she didn’t ask about my mom. I wasn’t…I didn’t want to talk about that with anyone, let alone her.
“But don’t worry…” Willow said, playfully slapping my arm as we continued our warm-up jog on the track. “It was just a couple.”
“Like what?” I gulped through the nerves thickening in my throat.
“Basics. Girlfriend, grade, embarrassing stories, things like that. So…you showed up to track practice with a cup on, huh?” She chuckled, then took off.
I tore after her.
“I hear the girls got a nice little chuckle out of it.”
Heat stormed through my cheeks. “Preach should have told me! He and I came out onto the field together. That jerk.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not alone.” Willow laughed. “You know what, though? Once I showed up to a competition; I was so nervous. It was before this snotty girl, Sasha, was on our training team and I was competing against her. Sasha had perfect hair, skin, body, everything. Well, let’s just leave it as…I had a major wardrobe malfunction on the ice.”
“Malfunction as in…” I glanced at her, and her cheeks were bright red.
“Yeah. A hook busted, and I showed a little more skin than I intended to.” She shook her head and covered her face with her free hand. “I was so embarrassed I totally botched the routine, didn’t even place.”
“Shit,” I said, coming to a stop.
“Yeah. So…wearing a cup to track practice…not a big deal.” She grinned at me.
Her chest heaved, and she planted her hands on her hips. She wasn’t much more than about five-foot-four, but she radiated determination and focus.
“I bet you kicked her ass the next time, though,” I said.
“Duh.” She rolled her eyes at me, then laughed. “So, where’s this wicked-hard workout you were promising me?”
We grabbed our Hydros and made our way up to the bleachers. Standing before the first set of stairs, I nudged her. “Just follow me.”
“Running bleachers? That’s it?” she asked.
“Oh no. We’re doing fast feet drills.” I pointed at the stairs before us. “So, you are running bleachers, sure, but you have to touch each step with both feet. Move your arms as fast as you can, because your feet move with your arms.”
“Both feet, huh?” She furrowed her brows, narrowing her eyes as she regarded the steps before us. I could almost picture her mind, analyzing what I’d just said, figuring it out, planning out how to do it. And do it well.
“Follow me…and keep up if you can.” I jumped onto the first step and started hammering it up the steps, each foot tapping a step as lightly and quickly as I could.
Instantly, my heart ramped up about twenty extra beats per minute. The sound of the tips of my feet tapping the steel stairs echoed around us. The hot morning sun warmed me up enough that sweat started dribbling down my face.
I’d made it to the top before Willow had even reached the middle. “Come on, Ice Princess!”
She grunted, moving her arms even faster. Her feet followed. The front of her foot caught a step, but she recovered, stutter-stepping to compensate. That took talent and balance and coordination. I shouldn’t be surprised.
I booked it across the top row of seats to the next set of stairs. I bolted down them, then across the bottom of the bleachers and took a breath. I threw her a glance, and she was on her way down. Dang, she was catching me.
Repeating the same pattern for the entire bleacher section, I stopped at the bottom. Leaning over, resting my hands on my knees, I looked up to see where she was. Only a row and a half behind me. She’d picked up the pace.
With a fluidity that defied logic, she lightly ran up the stairs, her arms gracefully moving. Sweat dripped along her arms, her neck, her face. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes focused. She looked as graceful here as she did on the ice.
Damn, that’s sexy.
I lifted the hem of my tank and wiped the sweat from my face as she started the last set of stairs. She jumped off that final step, arms up in the air. “Yes!”
I slapped her a high-five, and she leaned over, gasping for air.
“Holy shit.”
“Tough, huh?”
“It’s amazing.” She stood tall, resting her hands on her hips as she heaved in air. “We’re doing that again, right?”
“Even better, we’re going to carioca up the stairs.”
“Um. We’re going to sing?” She crossed her eyes at me.
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it. She was so damned cute.
“Laugh it up, chump.” She shoved me, then took off running up the steps.
“Hey!” I hadn’t shown her the new exercise.
Ah, hell. Who cared? I took off after her. It only took me two sets of stairs to catch her. I reached out to slap her butt because I was about to pass her but froze before doing it. Holy shit. Totally inappropriate. I did it to Preach all the time when I passed him on the ice or running bleachers, but with Willow…that’d be a jerk move. I wasn’t so sure they did that on the figure skating circuit.
But now, I couldn’t get how good her ass looked out of my mind.
I passed by her, focusing on the steps even more so I could get her out of my mind. At least out of my mind in that capacity.
“Damn, I almost beat you,” Willow said as she finished up.
“You so didn’t.”
“Okay, I didn’t. But you had to work hard to catch me!”
That I did. “If you say so,” I joked.
“What’s this carioca drill thing you’re talking about?” She stood tall again, drawing in a deep breath.
At the base of the bleachers, I showed her, in slow motion, how to do the drill. “Feet shoulder-length apart. Take your right leg and cross the front, then cross the back, then cross the front.” I repeated it a few more steps back to her under her sharp scrutiny.
“Crossover drill,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “Oooh…that sounds harrrd.”
“That’s what she said,” I yelled, then took off.
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Brodie
“You convinced her to try out!” Preach sprayed my skates with ice as he stopped beside me in the center of the ice rink and watched the group of tryouts gather at the other end of the rink.
“Yep. And with nine straight days of training, she’s looking pretty good,” I said while I rubbed my aching butt. “She’s got me doing all sorts of fancy moves that she claims will help my balance and strength. I’m on my ass more than anything, though.”
Willow stood a step or two outside the group of people tr
ying out today. She was quite a bit smaller than most of them, but after having trained with her so much, I knew, now, that she was a lot tougher than she looked.
“Brodie Windom, Star Left Wing turned figure skater.” Nathaniel tackled me around my waist and laid me out flat. The wind whooshed from my lungs, and I punched him in the stomach. We weren’t wearing full pads, so that shit hurt.
He grunted and rolled off me, laughing.
I’d never live down the day they came onto the ice while Willow was showing me a few figure skating moves.
“A girl…trying out for our team? I thought you were just training her to get in her skating boots.” Pax threw his head back and laughed as he coasted by me.
He was my friend, but he sure could be an ass sometimes. “Dickhead.”
“Maybe Wind’s got a thing for sequins?” Eric said as he passed by, catching up with Pax.
“She’s awesome. What’s your glitch?” Teddy shoved Pax.
“Josiah is our goalie.” He checked Teddy back, but the big guy didn’t budge.
“We’ll be lucky if he’s healthy for school tryouts in October.” He pulled Pax’s jersey over his head. “You don’t just shake off a nasty MCL injury.”
“Izan can do it until he’s back.” Pax flipped his jersey back and charged me.
What the hell? I wasn’t the one who’d jersey’d him. I spun out of his reach and sidled up to Preach.
Pax was a junior, and one of the better defenders out there, but his attitude was pretty harsh. I got it a little bit; I mean, his homelife, specifically his dad, was a total mess. It was like Pax had a chip on his shoulder because his dad was a jerk, abusive asshole. He’d been pulled from the home a couple times but was recently placed back there last year.
Preach chuckled. “Izan couldn’t make it past second string. He’ll be a good backup to Willow.”
“A former figure skater as our first-string goalie? The other club teams would never let us live that down.” Pax’s already almost black eyes darkened even more as he pointed off in the direction of the group Willow was standing in.
“You want to win, don’t you?” I shoved him. “Then unless one of these newbies trying out today can beat her, she’s in. She’s the shit, Pax. Seriously.”
“Yup,” Nathaniel said. “Guy or girl, it shouldn’t matter. Talent’s talent, bro.”
Even though Fall League wasn’t official high school hockey, we still drew the attention of college scouts. And pretty much anyone who made the club team made the school team.
But what mattered was that we had the best possible group of players. We’d almost nailed a perfect season last year; it’d get us noticed for sure if we did it back-to-back.
Coach Kurt stepped onto the ice near the team bench and explained the drills to the group of ten kids trying out for the team today. The guys who were on the Varsity team last year automatically landed a spot.
Willow remained a step away from the group as she listened. She watched everyone but kept most of her attention on Coach. She was focused. Intense.
Really intense.
“Goalies, do this fast-feet drill with your gear on. I want to see how you move in it.” He clapped and blew a whistle. “Let’s go.”
Willow jumped to attention, then worked her mask on with her gloved hand as if she’d done it her whole life. She didn’t miss a beat skating, either, even in her goalie gear.
My palms started to sweat.
She’d do great, right?
I didn’t need to worry. No, definitely not.
Willow glided across the ice. She looked like she’d always been a hockey player.
Man, she was coordinated.
The line of rookies gathered near the far end of the rink for the next drill. Assistant Coach Paul, clipboard in hand, let the first few go toward us. We were supposed to rush them, see how they handled it, and try and trip them up.
Preach and Nathaniel had the first two, but the fledgling players both tripped on their own clumsy feet, sliding across the ice like the little kids at Mini Mite hockey practice.
Pax and I faced off with the next two. I spun around the first cone, throwing the smaller kid off balance, but he ducked and spun, staying on his skates.
That one had some talent. I hadn’t seen him on the ice over the summer, though, must be a transfer.
The next two started off, and Willow was nearing the front of the line. Sweet. She was going to face-off with me.
“Don’t go easy just ’cause you have a hard-on for her,” Pax said from beside me.
“You’re such a dick, man.” I shoved him, then zeroed in on Willow.
The whistle blew, and Preach and Trevor took off toward the next victims. The eyes of Teddy’s little brother about popped out from his head they got so wide. I could see it from here.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to work out so well for him.
I inched up to our imaginary start line as I watched Willow at the other end of the rink. While the ones behind Willow shifted and danced around, she stood calmly, staring at the ice.
Through her mask, I could see her jaw was set and her eyes focused. But on what? I squinted, and it looked like she was staring at her stick. Then she knelt, and as she did, she removed her glove. With her bare hand, she palmed the ice. The guys behind her leaned to the side and glanced over her shoulder.
She didn’t seem to notice. She just sat there and held her palm to the ice. Then she gripped the curve of the stick, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath.
What the heck was she doing?
Willow slipped her glove back on, then stood tall, and with one push she was at the start line with one other skater. After a subtle glance at her surroundings, she simply bent her knees and stared at the first cone.
The whistle ripped through the noise, and Willow blasted into action, leaving Lucas in the dust.
I powered toward her. Scrapes of her stick hitting the ice, handling the puck, whispered through the air. A sound I loved.
She’d rounded the first cone with ease, again, leaving Lucas in the dust.
“Lay her flat, Wind. She’s got no business being here,” Pax said as he peeled off, aiming for Lucas.
He was pretty pissed that a girl was trying out, which was messed up enough. But to tell me to lay her flat? He needed to cut the crap, regardless if Willow made our team or not.
Willow focused on the puck again as she rounded another cone. Then it was open space.
My space.
I shifted to the left as she went right, knowing she’d have to push in my direction.
She was mine.
Leaning on her stick, she deked to the side, then spun, holding the puck close. I cut back, quick-stepped, and jumped into her line. I smacked her stick, then rammed my shoulder into hers.
She grunted but stayed upright as she jumped to her left, squatted as much as she could in her goalie gear, then pushed into a sprint.
Wow. That was a great move.
She was strong.
The small crowd that’d showed up to watch try-outs whooped.
She grimaced, favoring her right leg. But she shot up, still handling the puck. I spun, swiping at the puck, and her stick shot across the ice.
Ha. I had her.
A smile curved the right side of her mouth as she quick-stepped several times, kicking the puck like it was a soccer ball, and she ate up five more feet.
No way.
I went to slap the puck away, but she dug her blade into the ice, stopping herself—and the puck. I found myself on her right side, just as she went to kick the puck forward.
Swinging my stick, I caught the disc before it moved, then slapped it in the other direction. Her skates slipped out from beneath her, and she landed on her butt.
The crack of the stick hitting the ice resonated through the ai
r, and I heard myself gasp. Damn, she’d landed hard. Even with pads, the ice still felt hard as granite.
She grunted as she slid a couple of feet, but then she hopped up and smiled at me like I’d seen so many times during our training sessions together.
“Nice try, Puck Head.” And then she elbowed me. Preach burst out laughing as he skidded to a stop beside me.
Then, out of nowhere, Pax skated up and rammed into her, and in the next breath, she was back on her butt.
“Try getting up from that one, Ice Princess.” Pax grunted, then skated toward the freshman tryout he was terrorizing.
“Nice one, Pax!” Eric yelled from behind me.
“Dick move, man,” Teddy said, shaking his head as he chased after Pax.
“Willow!” I skidded beside her, fuming about what Pax had done. “Are you good?”
She let out a long breath as she flopped onto her back.
And smiled.
She’d been laid out on her ass, and she was smiling?
Oh yeah. She’d do just fine on this team.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Willow
Two days of tryouts for a club team, and every muscle in my body screamed as I sat on the cold wooden locker room bench. I had a newfound respect for hockey players and what they endured.
Too bad that respect wasn’t mutual. Even though I’d held my own during tryouts, Pax made it clear that he thought figure skaters were wimpy little girls prancing around the ice in sparkly dresses. I’d made it my personal mission to continue to prove him wrong.
I grabbed my phone from the bench beside me, ready to put it in my locker and head out, but I quickly opened a text to Ericka.
ME: Wish me luck!
ERICKA: You got this!
ERICKA: ((arm flexing & muscle emoji))
ME: I’ll text you after.
ERICKA: Love you!
ME: Love you!
Warmth radiated through my chest. Ericka had my back. Besides my family, she was the only one who truly understood how badly I wanted to get back to figure skating at the same level I was when I got hurt. Talking to her always left me feeling hopeful.