ONE
leo
December
“Five minutes until we line up,” I announce from the locker room, loud enough to cut through the noise of a bunch of rambunctious hockey players.
Not that anyone notices.Typical.
Tate, our resident know-it-all, is halfway through his daily TED Talk to Lucian, our captain, about some completely irrelevant fact. Brax and Vale, twin brothers and powerhouses of the team, are glued to their phones, debating hockey stats. Meanwhile, Rourke and Jaxon—whom I like as much as a dental procedure without Novocain—are planning their next round of post-game shenanigans.
I swear I’m the only one who remembers we’re playing a game tonight against our toughest opponent, the Winnipeg Wolves.
“You know what I read last night?” Tate says as he slides on his jersey. It’s not enough that I have to listen to his randomfacts at home, where I rent a room alongside Brax and Vale. “Frogs have to blink their eyes to swallow. It’s how they force it down.”
Lucian raises an eyebrow. “That’sunsettling. Is this why you read books, Tate? Your nightmares aren’t thrilling enough?”
“Nah, he reads books to impress the women,” Rourke answers with a grin.
“Well, it’s working,” I say. “Your random frog facts are keeping all the ladies far,faraway.”
“Hey, don’t knock it,” Tate says defensively. “Random facts are conversation gold when you don’t know what else to say to a woman.”
Rourke slicks back his hair in the mirror, probably so he can impress the ladies with his helmet flow. “He’s not wrong. I use Tate’s facts all the time. Girls love smart guys.”
“You? Smart?” I scoff. “They really believe that?”
Rourke shrugs, unbothered. “Doesn’t matter. All I need is one of Tate’s weird facts and a smile. Then it’s game over, my friend.”
“What happens when the girl realizes you’re a fraud?” I ask.
“Hasn’t happened yet,” Rourke says proudly. “Maybe you should try it sometime, Leo. You haven’t had a date since—let me think...” He screws his face up like he’s thinking hard. “Dinosaurs roamed the earth?”
I scowl as Rourke strolls past, his talent for pushing my buttons and getting a cheap laugh on full display. He doesn’t get it—I’m not interested in dating right now, even though I could have my pick of the women waiting for autographs after the game. There was a time when I loved that pursuit, but not anymore.
The truth? I miss her. The one woman who made me work for her attention, who saw through my charm, and still managed to make me laugh like no one else.
Back in college, she ended it with a single text message. I’ve spent years trying to move on, yet every time I step onto the ice, I catch myself scanning the stands, hoping—no,wishing—that this will be the night she’ll show up.
My phone buzzes from the bench, and even before I check it, a sinking feeling hits my gut.
Tina
Did you see my message about getting together after the game?
Leo
Can’t tonight.
I chuck the phone into my bag. Out of sight, out of mind.
Vale sits next to me. “Something on your mind? Or is Rourke getting up in your business again?”
“He’s always in my business,” I mutter under my breath. “But it’s not him.” I hesitate. “It’s Tina again.”
Vale nods. He knows about Tina. My housemates—Vale, Brax, and Tate—found out when she showed up unannounced. That was fun. Nothing like introducing your estranged birth mom to your teammates over breakfast.
Years ago, Tina googled my name and found out my whereabouts when I started playing professional hockey. Over the years, we hadn’t crossed paths much, and somehow, she always managed to pop up wherever I was, like an unplanned guest at a party. When you’ve been a foster kid, nobody gives you a manual on how to deal with complicated family issues.
