She doesn’t even crack a smile.Tough audience.
“I’ll try to keep the noise down,” I add, not bothering to tell her the rest—that this is just a side project while I’m playing for the Ice Breakers. When my former teammate Dawson left the Carolina Crushers two years ago to move to a new team here, I stayed in touch with him and his fiancée, Emmy. She offered to let me rent her grandmother’s house with the understanding that I’d fix it up. In return, I’d get free rent. Mimi, who now lives at an assisted living facility, can’t maintain the place anymore, so Emmy’s family is planning on selling it to pay for her care. At best, it’s a temporary situation for me.
“And don’t park in front of my house on the street either,” Mrs. Nelson warns before turning back to her flowers. “That’s where my renter parks—when her car works.”
“I won’t. And I’ll do my best not to disturb you,” I say, feeling that old urge to prove myself kick in—even if it’s just over noise and parking complaints.
This must be why Dad offered to buy me a house with a big yard and privacy fence—though knowing him, it was probably more about trying to buy my loyalty than the practical benefits of space from my neighbors. In this neighborhood, everyone gets a front-row seat to your life—something I’m clearly not used to.
When I step inside the house, it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim surroundings. With all the curtains drawn, there’s a dark gloom over the place—not exactly thehome sweet homevibes I expected. More likeenter at your own risk.When I lift a blind to let in some light, the place immediately seems brighter,but I also get a perfect view straight into Mrs. Nelson’s house next door.
Great.A nosy neighbor with prime real estate for spying on my every move. She probably has the neighborhood watch on speed dial.
I came to Maple Falls to play hockey without my family’s money or connections hanging over me. Somehow, I ended up in the small-town equivalent of a fishbowl instead.
“Lucian!” Emmy’s voice squeals behind me as she bursts through the door and wraps me in a hug like we’re longtime friends. She and Dawson have been in Seattle this past week I’ve been here, since he now plays for their NHL team. I’ve only met Dawson’s fiancée a handful of times when he visited our old team in South Carolina. But Emmy has the kind of enthusiasm that makes you feel like family.
Dawson follows her in, carrying a brown paper sack. “House-warming gift.” He hands me an overflowing bag of groceries before we exchange a one-armed hug.
“Thanks, man.”
“You can thank Emmy. I think she is even more excited about you moving here than I am.”
“Not true,” Emmy protests, then grins. “Okay, maybe a little true.”
“It’s good to see a familiar face around here that isn’t skeptical of me before I’ve even unpacked,” I say, setting the bag on the kitchen counter.
“You’ve already met the neighbor, then?” Dawson’s mouth lifts. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Nelson will grow on you. In the meantime, I’ve got your back, even if we’re on different teams now.”
Dawson is the kind of guy you can’tnotlike. We’re both competitive, but we agree on one thing: the importance of winning fairly.
“I can’t wait to show you my store, Falling for Books,” Emmy says, unpacking the groceries like someone who knows exactlywhere everything goes in this kitchen. “I’m heading there next if you want to join me.”
“Oh, I’ve already stopped in for coffee,” I say, passing her some groceries to put into the cupboard. “I witnessed some town drama about a property developer and fixed an espresso machine while I was at it. You know, typical Monday.”
Emmy’s face lights up. “You met Neesha, then?”
I nod, trying to look casual even though something about the way she says Neesha’s name makes me think I’m about to be set up on a date. “Didn’t get much out of her, though. Pretty sure she thought I was angling for free coffee and her number.”
“She’s careful,” Emmy says. “Doesn’t trust people easily. Especially after what happened with Nate Simpson.”
I pause. “Wait—Nate Simpson? The guy with the ego bigger than the rink?”
Emmy nods.
I let out a low whistle. “That’s her ex?”
Suddenly, a lot of things make sense. Her guarded smiles, the way she brushed me off.
“No wonder she’s careful,” I say. “He’s a walking penalty box with the emotional maturity of a twelve-year-old—and the guy’s what, early twenties?”
I’d heard about him back when he was playing for the Ice Breakers’ charity team. Cocky. Flashy. Sloppy with his relationships. And now, lucky me—he’s my new teammate.
“Well, I give you full permission to take him out in practice, especially after what he did to Neesha,” Emmy says. “After the charity games were over, he swept her off her feet, then spent months hiding their relationship like she was something to be ashamed of. When she caught him with Brittany, he had the nerve to say he couldn’t be seen publicly with ‘someone who just works in a cafe.’”
“Seriously?” I say, something simmering in my chest. “Brittany’s the one who treated Neesha like garbage at the cafe this morning.”
“Sounds about right,” Emmy says, crossing her arms.
