“No, I’m… gonna do some stretches,” I mutter, my eyes drifting back to Isabella.
Austin shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
I watch Isabella for a little longer, the noise of the guys behind me fading as I focus on her talking with Coach.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m gliding across the ice toward her.
Coach’s expression hardens when he spots me. “Reed. What are you doing out here? I thought I told you to warm up.”
Kinda wanna talk to your daughter instead.
“Just getting some water, Coach,” I reply.
He grunts, glancing down at his daughter. “First order of business, keep an eye on that one.” He points at me before spinning on his heels and walking away.
I turn my head and lock eyes with Isabella. She smiles the second I do, and I can’t help but grin as I raise an eyebrow. “You’re here to keep me in line?”
She scoffs, shaking her head. “That’s my dad’s job.”
I pull off my helmet, grab a water bottle, and squirt some into my mouth. “Ah. Came to stalk me, then?”
She chuckles. “You wish.”
My lips twitch.Yeah, I do. “So, whatareyou doing here?” I cock my head, my gaze drifting over her jeans and cropped flowery top, lingering a second too long on the curve of her cleavage before I drag it back up.
She lets out a sigh. “My dad thought it’d be a good idea for me to work under him for a while.”
My brows shoot up, intrigued. “Yeah?”
She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I want to work in sports. Maybe as a manager or an analyst.” She lets out a breathy laugh, half-exhale, half-chuckle. “I know people think it’s a stupid, unrealistic idea, but?—”
My eyes widen, genuinely impressed. “Hell no, that’s cool as fuck. You sure you want to spend your life dealing with a bunch of idiots, though?”
She chuckles, tucking a curl behind her ear. “If I can handle my dad and my brother, I can handle anything.”
“Not so sure about that,” I tut, shaking my head. “Especially when it comes to Cole. Your dad has a fucking field day with him.”
She laughs, her eyes glimmering. “He doesn’t have any trouble with you?”
I press a hand to my chest in mock offense. “I’m a saint.”
“Right. Sure you are.” She smirks, glancing at my jersey. “Reed,” she murmurs quietly as her gaze catches the name. “Wait…Reed?” Her eyes widen.Ah, fuck. “Ryan Reed? As in Connor Reed, the hockey legend?”
Shit. Really hoped she wouldn’t put that together. I’ve got enough people losing their minds and drooling over my brother—don’t need her doing it too.
I sigh, dragging a hand through my hair and shooting her a sheepish look. “Would you believe me if I said it’s just a coincidence?”
She squints, confusion flickering across her pretty face. Fuck. Stop looking at her like that. Off limits, Ryan.Off fucking limits. “Do you want it to be a coincidence?”
I shrug, shaking my head. “I don’t know,” I admit, letting out a groan. “I love my brother, I’m proud of everything he’s done, but I feel like he’s all anyone sees when they look at me.”
She studies me for a moment, those big brown eyes softening before she shakes her head. “I don’t think that.”
I arch a brow. “No?”
“For one, he’s taller,” she says with a grin.
I scoff. “Thanks for that.”
