Chapter 24: Rinkmates: Chapter 24

Nina, Priya, and I sit in Aiden’s sleek silver Volkswagen Polo. The cool leather seeps through my shorts as we head to Boston to see the Falcons play. Nina sits next to me, and in the front seats, Priya and Aiden are chatting about our routines and the upcoming show.

Boston, here we come.

It’s about time we took a break from our demanding training schedule—constantly pushing ourselves to perfection is exhausting while Stacey keeps on badmouthing Priya and me behind our backs. We try to ignore it but it’s draining. We trained each day for weeks and there’s no such thing as a weekend. I knew it was going to be hard and a busy time, but it’s also going to end soon too. It’s just about pushing through, making the best out of it. And so far, I met real friends for the first time.

If anything, this is a huge win for the show already.

But it’s hard to slow down because, with Grace on Ice taking off, our social media is exploding. Luckily, Nina promised to handle all the interview requests coming my way—she’s great at filtering out the crap. Speaking of which, she’ll be snapping some pics today for us to post later. We have to keep those internet trolls fed, right?

Priya reaches over from the front and offers me some of her veggie chips. I grab a few, crunching on them as I nod at the blue and white fabric draped over her shoulders.

“So where did you get Derek’s jersey from?” I ask.

She grins mischievously. “He sent it to me when he found out I was coming to the game. Isn’t that sweet?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Real sweet…” Jesus Christ. That guy is so after her panties.

She rolls her eyes, catching my sarcasm.

Priya’s still a virgin, waiting for her knight in shining armor, but I hope she’s not tossing all her principles for a guy, or rather two. Because as far as I know, Mason’s still in the picture, though she goes silent each time I ask about him. Priya’s a hopeless romantic, and that jersey stunt likely scored Derek major points. She’s the sweetest girl, but her taste in men is earth-shattering bad.

I can’t understand why she would choose to flirt with Derek instead of, for example, Jayce? After all, he seems like a decent guy. And if he’s not her type, then maybe one of the other twelve hot guys on the Falcons?

Anyone but Derek. Or Mason.

“Speaking of jerseys, how come you’re not sporting Riley’s?” Aiden asks casually.

My stomach twists.

Shit. I can’t exactly tell him that wearing his name feels too real right now.

“Oh, you know, jerseys don’t really flatter me,” I say with a forced laugh, waving it off. “Too bulky.” Wow. I’m a bad liar.

I know it’s a stupid excuse, and Aiden’s not convinced. Truth is, I don’t want Riley reading too much into it. He invited me to his game, to support him, but wearing his name feels like crossing a line. Like I’m just another fangirl craving his attention. Overthinking, as usual. Classic. But I can’t shake the fear that one wrong move could mess up what we’ve got. So I left the jersey at home, neatly folded away. Out of sight. Out of mind.

Priya leans over again, eyes sparkling. “You won’t believe this.” She practically shoves her phone in my face, showing her Insta feed.

I snatch the phone. “Wait. Is that you kissing out in the wild?”

Priya sighs like a princess who got the wrong pearls. “He kissed me after the show yesterday.”

“He chose to kiss you in front of the studio rather than backstage?” I say, my eyebrows arched.

Nina leans in, squinting at the screen. “And it’s already out there?” She frowns at me, like she smells something fishy too. “Awfully convenient to kiss you once and already have ‘paparazzi’ ready to take a photo.” She forms air quotes with her fingers. Mason’s on the bottom of his acting career, basically a one-hit wonder. There’s no way the paparazzi would be interested in him on his first show.

“Priya, he’s using you,” I say.

I love her too much to not be brutally honest with her about this. Friends aren’t here to sugarcoat the truth. We need to look out for each other, because let’s face it, love can make us blind as bats in broad daylight.

“Why would he?” She’s not amused, but she needs to know, even if her heart’s got her head in a spin. I’ve got a bad feeling about him. “If he wants to do this for PR only, he could have asked. I mean, it’s nothing people haven’t done before to get those votes up.”

“Did he ever say he actually likes you?” I ask, while Nina checks his profile next to me.

Priya hesitates. “No.”

“Does he ask about your private life, outside the show?”

“No.”

“There. He’s using you for clicks.”

Nina nods. “Yep. Hate to say it, but Mason’s playing the PR game without you, honey. Rumors can be as good as a real relationship. His Insta? Total self-love fest. Mirror selfies for days, and he captions one as ‘your daily mood pill.’” Nina pretends to gag. “He’s full of himself.”

Priya snatches her phone back. “But I like him.”

Nina and I snort. “You like his face,” I add.

And I wonder if that’s my hang-up with Riley, but then I see him curled up with a book, worrying about me, buying tampons as if he wanted to open a black market shop, always checking in, always making me laugh when I need it. No. Riley’s a catch. More than just a pretty face. Only problem is, I don’t think he knows it.

“You could use him too,” Nina says coolly, her PR instincts kicking in. “But don’t fall for him. He’s not who he seems. That man is just out for likes and views.”

“Nina’s right,” I say. “Just be careful with him, okay? Don’t let him play games with your heart.”

“Okay. Maybe I should focus on Derek then.”

“No!” All of us, including Aiden, say at the same time.

Aiden whips into the stadium lot, and we can’t help but chat about our go-to game snacks as we make our way inside. I nearly choke on the overpriced parking fee—twenty bucks? Seriously? But Aiden barely bats an eye, no hesitation in pulling out his wallet. I suggest crowdfunding with our group, but he just shrugs it off. As we enter through the doors, the metal detectors and massive crowd engulf us like a tidal wave. We have to push and weave through the migration of fans heading toward the arena entrance.

But Nina leads us straight to the players’ section, and we walk past walls decked out with memorabilia from Boston’s rich hockey history—jerseys of Bobby Orr and Ray Bourque, and framed photos of iconic victories. I just know Riley’s gonna have his spot in New York someday too. He’s incredible.

Nina flashes her credentials. She’s making security a breeze, and soon we’re in the player section. The heavy door swings open to a quieter, more exclusive area. The soft lighting leads us to plush, cushioned seats near the player benches and penalty boxes.

Aiden looks around the bustling arena with wide green eyes. “This is my first hockey game,” he says.

Priya opens her mouth in mock shock.

“Can you believe it? I’ve really never been to one before.”

Memories of my own hockey days come flooding back as I watch the lights dance on the ice in front of us. “I’ve been to a few,” I say, trying to downplay my experience but unable to hide the sadness in my tone. My coach used to take me to some college league games when we had off days from training. The memory churns in my stomach, causing me to ball my fingers into fists until my knuckles turn white. The familiar hurt in my palms as my nails ram into my flesh gives me a short release. But no. Don’t think of him. Just don’t. It’s not worth it. I’m here to enjoy my weekend.

But my heart starts to race anyway and I try to breathe past the lump rising in my throat.

Aiden shrugs. “Growing up on the farm, there wasn’t much time for anything besides tending to the strawberries and cows.”

Nina lets out a dreamy sigh as she enters the corridor, expertly balancing a tray piled high with popcorn and beers. My eyes widen at the sight of it all—this must have cost a fortune. In passing, I saw one beer cost over nine dollars.

“Farm life sounds so charming,” she muses as everyone takes their snacks. “But let’s be real, I’m way too lazy for all that. Wrangling athletes is more my speed.”

“You do have a way with them,” I say, and since I’m still hesitating on taking the snacks from Nina because they are expensive as hell, she holds the tray out to me with a grimace on her face that could freeze hell over. “Take it.”

I sigh. “Thank you,” I say and take the popcorn and beer.

“No problem, girl.”

For me, it would be a problem. Sometimes I just feel like the odd one out.

Everyone always seems to have endless funds for their weekend plans, while I’m struggling just to afford the bus. If it weren’t for these free tickets or Aiden driving, I wouldn’t even be able to join them. But I’m working to change it. Change it all.

Then, the players hit the ice. I sit up straight, watching their powerful strides send sprays of frost into the air as they start with their pregame warm-up.

“Is it wrong that I want to call each one of them daddy?” Priya sighs next to me, munching away on some popcorn.

“Yes. I think this is your first and last Falcons game,” I say, shooting her a wink.

But despite what I say, my eyes immediately find Riley, his tall frame and broad shoulders impossible to miss. He’s tall without his hockey gear but now, he seems massive. Damn it. I want to call him daddy too.

I’ve watched his past games on my phone during breaks on set, but seeing him in person, all rippling muscle and that deadly focus, sends a jolt through my body. He’s easily the most stunning man I’ve ever seen, and the mere sight of him has me shifting in my seat. I take a long sip of my beer, trying to stifle the flames licking at my core, but it’s not that easy since I know how quickly his fingers work.

As if sensing my gaze, Riley’s head snaps up, his whiskey eyes locking with mine. For a moment, the rest of the world fades away, and it’s just the two of us, caught in a silent exchange of longing. He smiles at me but then his brow furrows as his eyes flit over me. I follow his gaze, my heart sinking as I realize what he must be searching for.

His jersey. The one I’m not wearing. Shoot.

Disappointment flickers across his face, and he vanishes from the ice, leaving me to wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake. Yep. I should have worn it. I guess he’s thinking about our fake dating rules. A real girlfriend would wear it. But having his name on me feels like I want it there. And I think I do, and that is what scared me. I wanted to wear that damn jersey. I wanted to wear his name. That’s why I put it in the drawer. Because I can’t wear it. I can’t be his real girlfriend. Even if he wants it, too, he wouldn’t fit in my life.

“Oh my god, I’ve always had a thing for goalies.” Priya lets out another exaggerated sigh, her eyes lingering on Derek as he stretches, showing off his impossibly flexible body in the corner of the rink. I roll my eyes and let out a snort.

“Since when, Priya? You told me you love centers.” I don’t think she likes hockey in general though, just the players. She’s the exact opposite of me, I only care for the game. I never liked the players since they blocked my rink.

“Since today.” Her doe-eyed gaze makes me lightly box her.

“Stop it. You’re drooling.”

And then her phone buzzes, and I watch her go doe-eyed for a whole other reason. I’m almost begging her to drool over Derek again because Mason texted her, asking her what she’s doing. “Look! He is interested in me!”

And just seconds after, he asks if she can make sure that he has some moments where he dances alone in their next choreo. Gross.

“You’re not considering, right?” I say, frowning at that screen. Aiden and I come up with the dance together. Of course, Mason lets Priya do all the work.

That’s when a commotion ripples through the crowd, and I turn to find Riley striding toward me, his jaw set.

Without thinking, I rise to my feet, my body moving on its own accord. I check if he’s angry with me, but he’s not. Not really. At least he’s not looking like it. No, he’s smiling, and we both rush into an embrace like we haven’t seen each other in years.

I lean in, and my lips find his in a kiss that’s meant to be a show for the cameras but feels all too real. I want to think it’s meant for show because the kiss happened so naturally. I didn’t plan it. I just saw him and had to kiss him.

He responds instantly, his strong arms pulling me closer. He kisses me again. Just like one wasn’t enough.

Riley breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine. “I missed you.”

The words send a twisted kick of something through my chest, and I search his eyes, trying to discern if there’s any truth behind them. Just as naturally as the kiss felt, I push his hair back from where it’s fallen over his green headband.

There’s pure honesty in his eyes and I’m stunned. Unable to even form one word.

No hint of a lie.

Did he mean it? Did he really miss me? There’s no way. Or is he just playing his part to perfection? Yeah. It must be.

“Why aren’t you wearing my jersey?” he asks—a hint of vulnerability in his tone now.

“Maybe I wanted to keep you on your toes.”

Riley clutches his chest like he’s in a soap opera, dramatically gasping. “Oh, the betrayal!” Then his gaze turns serious again. “Never do this again.”

He lets go of me to reach into his pocket and pulls out a felt pen. With a mischievous grin, he scrawls his full name across my chest, the bold letters standing out against the stark white of my T-shirt. He didn’t just—

“There,” he says, capping the pen. “Fixed it.”

He presses a kiss to my cheek, his stubble grazing my skin. Somewhere in the back, I catch Priya squealing.

“Great. Now I look like I can’t afford your jersey. Thanks.”

He smiles. Oh, that stupid smirk of his. I hate it with all that I’ve got.

“You know what? I’m always here to help a damsel in distress.” And then, Riley fucking Huntington pulls his jersey over his head. Right there. In front of everyone. With a million phones aimed at us.

He stands there in only his white shoulder pads, the godforsaken shape God and the gym gave him peeking out from underneath it. I gulp, my fingers itching to touch him, but I manage to frown at him instead. How? I don’t know.

He hands me his jersey, his hair even more ruffled than before. “Here, baby.”

I watch as people take photos of us, making videos. I want to throw that damn jersey in his face, but from that look on his face, he knows I can’t turn the offer down. His gaze basically screams We have an audience.

I bite my lip, planning to take it, but not before I, too, undress and give him the white shirt I wore. The grin dies and there’s this tic in his jaw again. It’s just one fucking second, but his eyes fly to my chest.

To the bra I’m wearing.

It’s not a lacy one. I don’t know if I could have pulled that off. I’m wearing a comfy white longline bra, but it’s enough for him to swallow hard, and I’m pleased with the look he gives my boobs. Just when I want to retort something funny, he pulls his jersey over me. Not gently at all. It’s like he’s doing everything he can to quickly cover me, and I feel like a child getting dressed after a tantrum.

Once I’m covered, he gives me a very angry peck on the cheek. “You’re here to bring me luck. Not a headache, babygirl.”

Then he’s gone, striding back toward the ice with a newfound spring in his step.

I sink back into my seat, my fingers tracing his number on my chest, a giddy smile tugging at my lips. But beneath the elation, a nagging realization lurks in the back of my mind, threatening to shatter my emotions from within.

Even though I did everything I could to avoid it, it’s time to admit it.

I have a crush on Riley Huntington.

Priya shoots me a giggly glance. “That. Was. So. Cute!”

I shove some popcorn in her mouth.