Jesse and the Ice Princess (Gulf City High Book 1)

by Michelle MacQueen

  As the music sped up, growing louder, she prepared for her first jump, a double axel-toe loop combination.

  Voices broke through her concentration.

  I will always believe in you.

  If you could play with us, would you?

  She jumped, hugging her arms close to her body as she spun and came down for a landing. Her knee buckled as she came down on the wrong edge, sending her pitching forward.

  Time stilled, and all she could hear was the beating of her own heart. It felt like she was down for an eternity as she looked to the crowd, wanting some way out. She hadn't fallen in a competition in years. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she found her mom's face near the half-wall cheering her on. Her eyes slid to the side, catching sight of the boy standing beside her.

  Jesse's eyes bore into hers, willing her to get to her feet. She didn't know what he was doing here, but at that moment, she didn't care. He'd come.

  For her, he'd come.

  All her doubts faded away, and she got up, only missing a beat before launching into her next footwork sequence, punctuating her spins with more energy than she'd had in the short program.

  She went through the program as if she'd been made for it, landing her triple jump combination with ease.

  As she finished her swizzle sequence, she readied herself for her final jump, throwing herself higher than she had before and landing with a firm leg, her chest heaving.

  The crowd cheered.

  It didn't matter to her that she had no chance of placing after that fall. Not when people who cared about her were there to cheer her on.

  As she came to a stop back at center ice, she lifted a hand to the crowd, a grin stretched across her face. It wouldn't be enough for the judges, but it was enough for her.

  Her mom waited at the swinging door and handed her a pair of skate guards. Charlotte put them on seconds before strong arms engulfed her, lifting her off her feet. "That was amazing!" Jesse spun her, attracting more than a few onlookers.

  When he set her down, she looked from her mom to Jesse. "What about the game? How are you here?"

  "Well, I'm here because Hadley brought me." He pointed to where her best friend watched them. "As for the game... we couldn't play without you."

  She stepped away from him. "Jesse Carrigan, don't you dare tell me you forfeited the most important game of the season."

  "Oh, it's worse than that." Her dad stepped up behind her.

  She turned, shocked to see him there. "Dad? What's going on?"

  He shot Jesse a stern look. "Your friend here didn't make us forfeit the game. He held the entire game hostage."

  "It's a long story." Jesse draped an arm over her shoulders and leaned in. "Let's just say Damien knows his way around a spark plug."

  "I have no idea what that means."

  "Plausible deniability, Charlie." He dropped his arm and turned to her, lowering himself to one knee.

  "Jesse," she hissed. "You're attracting attention. What are you doing?"

  Passersby stopped to watch them.

  Jesse didn't seem to care. He grabbed Charlotte's hand. "Charlotte Morrison..." He paused. "Will you be my winger?"

  Hadley burst out laughing, and Charlotte didn't dare look to see what her parents thought. "You mean... I can play?" She'd never considered it a possibility. Her legs were exhausted, but that wouldn't stop her. Not now.

  Jesse raised his voice so anyone nearby could hear him. "I'm not leaving without an answer."

  She smiled when her dad groaned. Jesse was completely ridiculous, but at this point, he could ask her to play goalie and she would. When she nodded, he leaped up and wrapped her in a hug. "We're going to crush them."

  A reporter, probably catching him down on one knee—not an everyday occurrence at a high school competition—walked up, her microphone held in front of her.

  "What do you say to an interview? I'd love to know the story behind this display."

  Charlotte flashed a smile at the camera. "Sorry, I have a hockey game to play."

  Jesse tugged her arm. "Come on, we don't want to be late."

  They ran down the hall, and she quickly changed in the locker room. As she reached the front door of the building, she heard her scores called out behind her.

  Charlotte Morrison wouldn't be standing on any podiums today, but she'd still skated the program of her life.

  And she was proud of herself for that.

  But now... now her two halves got to become one. Hockey and figure skating. Who ever said she had to choose?

  19

  Jesse

  Forty-five minutes.

  Three quarters of an hour sitting in the back of Hadley's car with the girl he was willing to hold up an entire hockey game for.

  Almost an hour of waiting to see if they'd make it to the rink in time.

  Yeah... Jesse wasn't nervous at all.

  He glanced at Charlotte out of the corner of his eye. She no longer wore the blue dress that sparkled as she twirled. She'd pulled on shorts over her flesh-colored tights, but rhinestones still decorated her hair, silver lights winking in the darkness.

  Hadley's country music pumped through the car, so different from the tune that less than an hour ago allowed Charlotte to fly.

  "Stop looking at me," she whispered.

  The corners of his mouth curved up. "Why?"

  "It's making me nervous."

  "Charlie Morrison, I don't think anything could make you nervous. I saw you out there."

  "Yeah, you saw me fall."

  "And I saw you get back up again."

  She tried to hide her smile by looking away. "I can still feel your eyes on me."

  He grinned as he glanced out his window at the passing Gulf City. He'd never liked the larger feel of Tampa. It wasn't home. Despite the numerous tourists and snowbirds running around town this time of year, they took care of their own.

  That's how he knew it would be okay to delay the game. Their fans would understand. In fact, if it gave them a better chance to win, they'd cheer for the change.

  His phone buzzed against his leg. Roman. "Hey, man."

  "Jesse, we have a problem."

  Jesse's eyebrows drew together, and he looked to Charlotte. "What's wrong?"

  "It's Damien. He thought he'd know how to repair the Zamboni, but he's sitting in a corner rocking back and forth and rambling about how he messed up.”

  Dread built in the pit of his stomach. He was so dead. "I thought he just moved a few leads from the spark plugs."

  "I thought so too. Now he's rambling about all this stuff I don't understand."

  "Coach is going to kill us."

  "Are you almost back? We have to figure this out before we have to forfeit the game."

  Jesse glanced at the clock. "Rome, you're going to have to stall."

  "Yeah, just get here."

  "Be there soon."

  He hung up and met Charlotte's gaze. "We may have messed up." He unbuckled his seat belt and pulled himself forward, sticking his head between the seats. "Can this boat move any faster?"

  Hadley reached over and flicked his forehead. "Back up. I'll get you there." She sped up, weaving through cars.

  Jesse quickly buckled his seatbelt again and gripped the seat. "If Hadley doesn't kill me, your dad will."

  Charlotte's phone lit up. "He says he's there and is wondering where we are."

  "He must not have hit the same traffic as us."

  Charlotte snorted. "Or had such a slow driver."

  "I heard that!" Hadley stuck her tongue out in the rearview mirror.

  The rink came into view. Hadley pulled up to the back entrance letting both her passengers out.

  Jesse reached for Charlotte's hand and pulled her into a run. As soon as they stepped through the doors, noises from the crowd crashed in on them. The back hall ran around the outside of the rink to the locker rooms. They didn't stop running until they reached the Zamboni entrance where Roman stood leaning in the doorway.

&nbs
p; When he saw them, he kicked himself away from the door. "About time."

  "What's wrong with the Zamboni?" Jesse looked into the room, finding it empty. The gate stood open and beyond it, the Zamboni cleaned the ice.

  Roman cracked a smile. "The problem is it's running just fine, and I was worried you'd be late."

  Jesse took in his friend, already dressed in his gear for the game. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

  "It worked, didn't it?" He flashed them a grin before pressing a kiss to Charlotte's cheek. "Jesse did tell you that's how we greet teammates, didn't he?"

  She pushed him away with a smirk. "Liar."

  "Me?" Roman lifted a brow and moved in on Jesse, smacking a kiss against his cheek before Jesse could jump out of the way. Roman shot Charlotte a wink. "See?"

  Jesse wiped his cheek. "Dude, you slobbered me."

  "Go get dressed for the game." He eyed them once more. "Oh, and I picked up your brothers.”

  "What about Dad and Cass?”

  He read the answer in Roman's face. His friend tried. He'd known Cassie as long as he'd known Jesse. They were even friends as kids.

  Jesse pushed away the disappointment at not having his dad or sister there because once he was out on that ice, it would all fade away.

  "Charlotte," her dad called. "Can you come here?"

  Jesse nudged her forward. "I'll see you out there."

  She offered him a smile that would last him the entire night.

  As he pushed into the locker room with Roman at his side, a cheer wound through the room.

  "Did no one think I'd make it in time?" He shook his head with a laugh. "You guys have so much faith in me." As he stepped up to his locker where his gear was laid out already for him, he noticed the silence surrounding him. The team continued to stare at him, waiting.

  He turned to them, a smile curving his lips. "She's here."

  This time, the cheering grew in volume, overcoming everything else. Roman clapped him on the back. "Think Charlie knows she's part of this team yet?"

  "She will."

  "She can't get rid of us now. She has to—gasp—be friends with us."

  He laughed. "Something tells me she'll survive being seen with you."

  He changed into his gear, slipping the pads over his head before tugging on his jersey. Putting a hand over the Hurricanes logo, he smiled. This was his final season with the team, maybe his last year playing organized hockey. That was what all the people who gave them grief for losing didn't understand. Win or lose, they didn't regret being part of something bigger than themselves.

  Coach poked his head in. "Everyone decent?"

  "We're dressed, if that's what you mean." Roman laughed. "But decent..."

  Coach pushed open the door, and Jesse stopped breathing. He'd seen Charlotte in her expensive sweaters at school, her skin-tight skating dresses... but as she stood in front of them in full pads and his team's jersey, his heart stuttered.

  Roman bumped his shoulder. "Breathe, dude."

  "She's incredible."

  He expected some kind of sarcastic remark from Roman. It would have been very like him. Instead, his friend gave him a real, genuine smile.

  Charlotte approached him, her eyes on her skates. "I feel silly."

  He put a finger under her chin and tilted it up. "You don't look silly." She'd removed the rhinestones from her hair and wiped away the makeup, making her appear just as herself.

  "My legs feel like Jello," she whispered. "How am I supposed to get through this game? I'm going to make a giant fool of myself."

  "No." He brushed a few loose strands of hair back. "You're going to make fools of the rest of us."

  She finally smiled at that.

  "All right, boys." Coach paused. "And girl." He shook his head as if he couldn't believe he'd just said that. "That team out there has come into our rink pinpointing us as an easy win. Who's ready to prove them wrong?"

  Every single person in the room cheered.

  He looked to his daughter. "Charlie, you're playing on the right side of the first line with Jesse and Roman. I know you've had a long day, so we'll go easy on your minutes."

  "I can do this... Coach." She smiled on the last word.

  He laughed. "I'm sure you can. All right, team! Let's get out there!"

  Jesse smiled as each guy on the team patted Charlotte on the back and either called her Charlie or Morrison, showing her she was one of them.

  "Jesse," Coach called. "Just a moment."

  Charlotte sent a panicked look as she left without him.

  "Yeah, Coach?"

  "Take care of her out there."

  He knew what his coach meant. Charlotte may have the kind of skill no one else on the team possessed, but she'd never been crunched into the boards before. Part of him wanted to say she could take care of herself—because she totally could—but this was different.

  He nodded. "I'll take care of her." Did the coach hear the double meaning he hadn't meant to put in his words?

  If he did, he let it slide. Instead, he knocked Jesse on the side of the helmet. "Bring us home a win."

  This all started because Jesse wanted a win—just one. He knew his team needed to feel that kind of joy, that kind of pride. But as he stepped out onto the ice, he wondered if they'd already felt it.

  They were more a team than they'd ever been.

  20

  Charlotte

  "Charlie Morrison."

  Charlotte's head jerked up as she heard the announcer call her name. Damien gave her a push. "Go, that's you!"

  Yep, she was now a starter for the Gulf City Hurricanes. If she didn't trip over her own feet. Roman and Jesse already stood at center ice preparing for the anthem. She stopped to the right of Jesse as they called out the defenseman and goalie.

  Her hand flexed around her stick and sweat soaked the inside of her gloves as she gripped the edge of her jersey. Her jersey. The one that said Morrison on the back. The one her father had made for her last minute. She'd wanted to cry when he gave it to her before the game, but there were no tears in hockey.

  Well, there were probably a lot of tears, they just didn't admit it.

  Her lips twitched up as she lifted her eyes to the cheering crowd. Her helmet slid back, but she fixed it, securing it tighter around her face. Could they tell she was a girl through the metal cage each player on both teams wore?

  She'd twisted her hair up into the helmet to keep it out of the way, but she was smaller than any of the other guys. Her gaze slid along the opposing team, the guys who'd come for her as soon as they dropped the puck.

  The anthem finished, and Jesse lifted his chin in question.

  She nodded in response. She was ready. So ready.

  Jesse won the face-off, sliding the puck back to a defender. As a unit, they moved up the ice. The first time the puck hit her stick, she grinned, knowing this was exactly where she was meant to be.

  Charlotte had never been so tired in her life. All the training, the years of skating, couldn't have prepared her to play a full hockey game only hours after a figure skating competition.

  But she wouldn't let it stop her.

  She sat on the bench breathing heavily as the third line lost the puck. Again.

  She wanted this win like she'd never wanted anything in her life. No matter how much she had to push her legs, how ragged her breathing grew, she wouldn't give up.

  Tied two to two with three minutes to go in the third period, they were running out of time.

  Jesse scored a goal in the first period and Damien added another in the second. But Venice hadn't let them generate much offense since.

  Every time Charlotte touched the puck, they came for her. Her lips curled up at the thought. Too bad they couldn't catch her.

  Damien leaned in beside her. "You okay?"

  She nodded. She wouldn't admit just how exhausted she was. True to his word, her dad was careful with her ice time, but she wanted to be out there.

  Her dad tapped Jes
se and Roman, telling them to get ready. "Damien, I'm sending you out with the first line."

  Charlotte turned to look up at him. "Coach, I can go."

  He crossed his arms. "You're exhausted, Morrison. I can see it every time you set foot on that ice."

  She shook her head. "I'm fine. Two minutes, Coach. That's all we have to break the tie and get the win."

  A whistle blew as the referee called a penalty on a Hurricane player. Charlotte's dad cursed.

  "Coach," Jesse called. "We need to score a shorty." He jerked his head toward Charlotte. "Put us out there."

  She swallowed. The penalty kill? She’d watched enough hockey to know basic positioning, but she'd never practiced one.

  Jesse went on. "We can win this game, Coach. But not if we play it safe."

  "All right." Her dad leaned forward. "This is what we're going to do. Carrigan, Morrison you're going out there as soon as we can do a line change. No set play. We need a breakaway."

  Jesse clapped her on the back. "We've got this."

  Charlotte nodded. For once in her life, she wasn't afraid of messing up. Because Jesse was right. They did have this.

  Play started again, and one of the defenders managed to clear the zone, allowing for a line change. Charlotte jumped off the bench, her legs aching with every stride.

  Keep going. Keep pushing. She repeated the words in her mind again and again. Don't stop moving.

  She chased the play as Jesse battled for the puck along the boards behind the opposing net. It broke free, and two Venice players passed back and forth as they skated through the neutral zone.

  Charlotte skated backward, swiping her stick along the ice to try to break up their passes. Their power play unit got into formation as Jesse reached them.

  The four Hurricanes skaters on the ice fanned out, trying to cover all five Venice guys.

  Until Charlotte saw her opening. She watched as one of the opposing skaters pulled back, preparing for a slap shot. The puck hit his stick before he lobbed it toward the net.

  Charlotte fell to the ice without thinking, stretching her leg into the shooting lane. Pain exploded up her thigh as she took the shot in the pads. She grit her teeth to keep from crying out and used her body to redirect the blocked shot to where Jesse waited, poised to break out.