Page 7 of The Risk Taker

“Because it’s the truth.” I bend to unstrap my leg pads, letting them drop one by one.

Dad just arches a brow. “Mhm. Sure. I’ll take your word for it. Just don’t forget, I was your age once,” he says. “Your mom had me sneaking out of study sessions more than once back then.”

I groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Please stop. I do not need those visuals.”

“She’ll deny it if you ask her,” he keeps going, clearly enjoying himself. “But I was a goner from day one. Couldn’t focus on anything else.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

He laughs, clapping me on the shoulder, the sound echoing in the empty rink. “What? You don’t like hearing how you got here?”

“Not in the slightest.”

He grins wider. “Alright, alright. I’ll spare you. For now.”

“Thank fuck,” I mutter under my breath, finally wrestling off the last of my gear. My whole body feels twenty pounds lighter, but twice as wrecked. My limbs ache, my body reeks, and I can already feel a new bruise forming on my hip from that last crease drill.

“You’re doing good, Nate.”

I look up, caught off guard by the words.

“I know I work you hard,” he adds. “But you’re better than you give yourself credit for. Don’t forget that.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly tighter than it was two seconds ago. “Thanks, dad.”

“Anytime, kid,” he says with a warm smile. “Now go and hit the showers before you stink up my car.”

I snort under my breath as he heads for his office, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click.

By the time I reach the showers, my muscles are already locking up. The water hisses to life, and I step under it, letting the heat hit my shoulders first, then roll down my back.

I brace my hands on the tile and hang my head. Let the steam fill my lungs. Let my brain finally shut up for a minute.

One more year.

One more season.

Then I’m done.

Done with the pressure. The expectations. The early mornings and the constant spotlight.

Done pretending I give a damn when I barely know what I want anymore.

When I finally kill the water, the cold air rushes in and hits my skin, sharp and biting. I dress fast, stuffing my damp gear into my bag, and make my way to the parking lot.

The car’s freezing when we climb in, but luckily, Dad cranks the heat and pulls out of the lot.

It’s a short drive to the off-campus house the guys and I live in, and when we pull into the driveway, Dad shifts the gear into park and glances over at me. “Good work today.”

I nod. “Thanks for the ride.”

I shove the door open, my breath fogging in the air as I step out and shut it behind me.

The house is quiet as I climb the porch steps and unlock the door. The warmth hits instantly, seeping through my hoodie and coat, and for half a second, it’s peaceful… until I hear footsteps down the stairs.

I spot a girl I’ve never seen before, wearing a hoodie that’s way too big and shorts that might as well be underwear. Her hair’s a mess, mascara smudged, and she looks like she’s still half-asleep.

My eyes drift behind her when she turns around, and that’s when I spot Logan, leaning against the banister, not a shirt in sight—of course.