Breaking The Ice

CHAPTER 4

Jaxon POV

The locker room was louder than usual after practice. Most of the guys were still riding the high of being back on the ice after summer break. Equipment hit benches. Showers ran in the background. Conversations bounced off the walls. Normally, I'd be right in the middle of it but today, I wasn't listening. Not really.

I sat at my locker, slowly untying my skates while replaying the same moment over and over again. The goal. The damn goal. I could still see it. The way Riley had trapped the pass. The quick shift left then the cut back right. The shot. The net rippling. I pulled my skate off with more force than necessary. One goal. That's all it was. One good play didn't prove anything. Except… it kind of did. Because that hadn't been luck. And I knew it.

"You're thinking too hard.” I looked up. Connor stood in front of my locker with his gear bag slung over one shoulder. "I'm not.” Connor laughed. “Sure." He said knowingly. "I mean it.” I snapped.

"You keep staring at your skate like it personally offended you.” I tossed my sock at him. Unfortunately, he caught it. “Disgusting." Connor said, crinkling his nose. "Give it back.” I demanded but he only smirked. "No."

Before I could threaten him, Gray dropped onto the bench beside me. The i***t looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Well?” He asked and I groaned. That one word told me everything. Gray grinned. "Our new defenseman is interesting.” He said and Connor snorted. "You're impossible.” I retorted. "I'm observant.” He replied with a smirk. “And you're annoying.” I replied.

"Both can be true.” He said still holding that smirk. I rubbed a hand over my face. "Can we not?” Gray ignored me. "Did you see that goal?” He continued as though he didn’t hear me. "Everyone saw that goal.” I grumbled. "Pretty sure the goalie is still emotionally recovering.” A few players nearby laughed. I refused to join them.

Gray pointed at me. “There." Connor nodded. "There what?” I asked confused. "That look.” Gray said still pointing at me. "What look?” I retorted. "The one where you're trying really hard not to admit you were impressed.” I stared at him. Gray stared back. The silence stretched. Finally, Connor broke first and burst out laughing. Traitor. I gritted my teeth. Both of them. "She made one good play.” I said simply but the words sounded weak even to me. Gray's grin widened. "Keep telling yourself that."

Before I could come up with a response, another voice cut through the room. "One good play?” Tyler Bentley appeared beside our lockers. "No offense, Captain, but she was cooking people out there.” Several players immediately agreed. “Facts." Said one. "That cut was nasty.” Said another. "Didn't Easton almost fall over?” Said someone with a smirk. Easton looked up from across the room. "I hate all of you.” He sneered but their was no malice in his voice. The locker room erupted in laughter.

I hated that they were making this difficult. Because part of me wanted to dismiss Riley's performance. The other part knew exactly how good she'd looked. And that part was getting harder to ignore.

The team slowly filtered out over the next twenty minutes. Eventually, only a handful of players remained. I was shoving my gear into my bag when Coach Reynolds appeared in the doorway. The room immediately grew quieter. Not because anyone was scared of Coach. Well… Maybe a little. Mostly because Coach never came into the locker room after practice unless he wanted something. His eyes found me immediately. Fantastic. I groaned internally. “Hayes." I sighed. “Coach." I acknowledged. "My office.” Of course, I thought. Connor made a sympathetic face while Gray looked delighted. I hated them both.

Coach's office overlooked the rink. The lights were still on. The ice gleamed beneath the glass as Coach sat behind his desk while I remained standing. Experience had taught me that sitting down usually meant the conversation would take longer. Coach folded his arms. "What do you think?” I frowned. "About what?” His expression didn't change. "Don't insult my intelligence.” Right. That. I looked away toward the rink. “She’s… got potential.” I managed. Coach raised an eyebrow. That was apparently not the answer he'd expected. Honestly, it wasn't the answer I'd expected either. "Potential?" he repeated. I shrugged. "She can skate.” I added although I knew it wasn’t helping. "Anything else?” I hesitated. Coach noticed immediately. Unfortunately.

“Well?" I exhaled slowly. “Her hockey IQ is good.” I said. Coach leaned back in his chair. I hated where this conversation was going. “Good?" I glared. "Fine. It's excellent.” The old man actually smiled. I hated that too. "Go on.” He pushed and I sighed. ”She reads the ice well.” Coach nodded. "Anything else?” I knew exactly what he was doing. Making me say it out loud. Making me admit it. Annoying.

"She's tough.” Coach remained silent. Waiting. I said. "Happy now?” I asked in defeat. “Very." He replied with a satisfied smile. I rolled my eyes. Coach looked toward the rink. "Do you know how many schools turned her away?” Coach said to the room. That caught my attention. “No." I answered in shock at this news.

“Eight." I blinked. Coach continued. "Not because she wasn't good enough.” He said and I already knew where this was going. "Because she was a girl.” The words sat heavily between us. Coach leaned forward. "Riley Bennett wasn't recruited because she's female.” His voice hardened. "She was recruited because she's one of the best young defensemen I've seen in years.” I stared at him. Coach rarely praised players. Especially not like that. "She led her league in defensive takeaways.” I frowned at this. Coach continued. "Second in assists.” He continued. Interesting. Very interesting.

"Team captain for two years.” Now that surprised me too. Coach's eyes narrowed. "You thought I brought her here for publicity.” I looked away. That was answer enough. Coach sighed. "I recruited her because she earned it.” For a moment, neither of us spoke. The ice glowed beneath the office windows. Silent and still. Finally, Coach stood.

"You're a good captain, Hayes.” He finally said. I wasn't expecting that. "But good captains don't make decisions before they have all the facts.” The words landed harder than I wanted to admit. Because he was right. And we both knew it.

Ten minutes later, I left Coach's office. The rink was almost empty. Only one person remained on the ice. Riley. I stopped walking. She hadn't noticed me. She was skating alone. Running drills. Again. And again and again. No cameras. No reporters. No audience. Just Riley. Training. Improving. Earning it. The exact thing I'd accused her of not doing. For a long moment, I watched from the tunnel. Watched her fire shot after shot toward an empty net. Watched her skate until sweat soaked her shirt. Watched her refuse to quit.

Something uncomfortable twisted in my chest. Not attraction. At least I didn’t think so. Respect. The beginning of it, anyway. Riley finally stopped near center ice. Breathing hard. Exhausted. Satisfied. She turned toward the tunnel and our eyes met. For one second, neither of us moved. Then she lifted an eyebrow. Like she was silently asking what I was doing there. I had absolutely no answer. So I did the only thing I could. I turned around and walked away. Behind me, I could've sworn I heard her laugh. And somehow, that annoyed me even more than the goal had.