She nods slowly, her eyes filling with love. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know yet, though. I’m still thinking it through.”

“Sounds good,” I say with a nod. “Just find your dream and live it.”

She smiles. “That’s the plan.”

“Good, now are you done talking?”

She gives me a sinful little grin. “Yes, Jace.”

“Good.”

Without another word, I take her with the hope that this is forever.

And that what Jude has to say won’t change that.

But I’m scared it will.

Coach is running us into the ground.

It’s the practice before our game and we have to be perfect.

I have to be perfect.

Rushing down the ice, I move the puck to the left as Ricky comes toward me, trying to poke the puck away. Turning around him with the puck, I send it to Markus who shoots but misses the goal completely, the puck rocketing off the glass and onto the defense’s stick. Ricky tries to send it up to someone, but I’m there, stopping it and sending it over to Archer. He fakes it, really sending it to Markus as I crash the net, trying to screen. He sends it back to Archer, who sends it to Bloomy, but he only holds it for a second before sending it back to Markus. He winds up, and he has it, I know he does, but when he shoots, instead of going in, it hits me.

Fuck.

Crumpling to the ground, I feel tears sting my eyes as I reach down to my leg. Oh no, this can’t be happening again. In practice? Really? Couldn’t be in a game at least? Shit! He got me right where my pads don’t cover, on the side of my knee. And just like that, I see my career going down the drain. The pain is shooting up my leg, and fuck, it hurts. Damn it. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m supposed to go in! This is my year!

Soon, Markus is beside me, his face full of worry as he throws off his helmet. “Shit, dude, you good?”

I nod as the pain throbs, taking away my breath and causing sweat to drip down my neck. I can see the worry in his eyes, and I know my job. It’s to be strong for my team. So I lie, “Yeah, hit me wrong.”

“You okay, Sinclair?” Coach asks as Justin, one of the trainers, comes to my side.

“Yeah, I think. Got me on the side of the knee,” I say, and I don’t know why I’m lying.

“Can you walk?” Justin asks and I nod because, even if I couldn’t, I would.

“I think so.”

He reaches for me as Coach does the same and they lift me. My leg comes down onto my skate, and thankfully, I can put weight on it, but it does hurt. Badly. It’s throbbing, but when we start moving toward the bench door, I think I might be okay. Thank God. As relief floods through me, I swallow back the puke that wants to escape as my teammates tap their sticks to the ice, wishing me words of encouragement. When I see Markus beside me, I wave him off. “Dude, I’m good. Go practice. If I can’t play, I need you to know how to go on without me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

He takes me from Coach, and they help me out the back of the bench and then into the training room. Climbing up on the table, my legs hangs as the trainer takes my skate and I look to Markus. “Go, dude.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod, cringing a bit as Justin removes my sock. “I’m good.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Okay, Arnold,” I tease and he laughs as he heads out of the room. Swallowing hard and flinching as Justin removes my pad, I watch his face. Hoping like hell the look he gave me last year when I broke my clavicle doesn’t appear. While he moves his fingers along the tender area, I hold my breath, my stomach turning as he bends my leg and presses at the area beside my knee.

This was not how I wanted my day to start.

It was supposed to be a good day. I had dinner and Netflix planned for Avery for when she came over tonight after packing. I wanted to cuddle and love on her, but it’s feeling like that might change.

But then he is nodding before he looks up at me. “Just a nasty bruise, I think. Let’s do some X-rays to be sure, but I’m pretty damn confident you’re okay.”

Letting out a long breath, I nod. “Thank God.”

When the X-rays come back to show that everything is good, I’m more than relieved. Shit, that was fucking scary, but that’s hockey. Everything can change in seconds. Hell, that could be applied to life too.

“Take it easy the rest of today and try to keep it iced. We’ll see how you feel tomorrow,” Justin says as Coach comes into the room, Markus behind him.

“Verdict?”

“He’s good, but I still want him to be a game-day decision. He’s going to ice it and stay off it the rest of today and see how he does for the morning skate.”

Coach nods. “Good. All right. Let me know if you need anything, Sinclair.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

As he walks away, Markus leans against the doorjamb. “Jeez, can you be careful and stop getting hurt?”

I laugh. “Um, this was your fault,” I tease and he laughs.

“Hey, you gotta stay out of the way of my awesome shots!” But I know it’s more than that.

I roll my eyes as I shake my head. “Yeah, okay, you’re off.”

He shrugs. “I’m good.”

I don’t believe him, but I have bigger things to worry about. My heart is still pounding in my chest, and I want to say it’s all because of the injury scare.

But I know that’s not completely it.

It’s because Jude texted me while I was in X-rays.

Call me after practice. Make sure you’re alone.

After taking a shower and having my leg rewrapped, I head out of the arena and toward the Bullies’ house. I know I’m stalling and that I need to just call Jude, but first, I make sure to send an email to all my teachers with the note that Justin sent me. As I wobble, I send a text to Avery and then call my mom.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, Mom. Listen, don’t freak, but I got hurt at practice.”

“Oh, Jesus! Are you okay?” she asks, freaking out. “Are you at the ER? Jesus, my poor baby!”

Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. “Mom, I said don’t freak.”

“Baby, do you need me to come take care of you?”