Page 41 of Hot Shot
Hunter
“Idon’tknowaboutthis, Hunter. I don’t think I can.”
“You can. I have faith in you. Like I showed you. I won’t let you fall.” I skate slowly backward, trying to coax her off the boards.
After breakfast, I dropped Madison off at the bakery so she could get her car towed while I went home to shower and change.
Now we’re at the practice rink that sits tucked behind the arena we play our games at. The lot was empty when we pulled in and for that I was thankful.
I hear laughter behind me and over my shoulder I see Wes, Holt, and Brody lacing up their skates.Shit. I was hoping we’d have the ice to ourselves.
“Hey, Hunter,” Wes yells and I half turn to wave at him.
“Wanna skate some drills?” Holt asks.
I shake my head, turning back to Madison.
“Should we go?” She glances over my shoulder at the guys.
“No, it’s fine. Now come on, I know you can do it. I’m right here, I won’t let you fall.”
She shakes her head at me but finally pushes off the wall and slowly skates in my direction.
“What are you doing?” Wes skates toward me.
“Don’t—“ I yell, but he’s coming at full speed, and I only manage to get out of the way at the last second as he slams on the brakes, throwing ice all over me.Asshole.
“Oh shit.” Holt skates up to us, making a face I can’t quite place when he notices Madison.
I send up a silent prayer that he doesn’t ask her about knowing Coach or if she went out with him. He hasn’t said anything about it since the barbecue although it didn’t seem like he believed her answer when I told him what she’d said.
“Yeah. Oh shit is right.” I brush the ice off me.
“Sorry, dude.” Wes’s face turns red when he glances over and sees Madison. “My bad.”
I nod, accepting his apology. “What are you guys doing here?”
“Running some drills with Brody. Come practice with us.” Holt gestures to the opposite end of the rink where Brody’s setting up markers on the ice.
“Maybe next time.”
“Hey guys. Ready?” Brody skates over to us.
Since when does he hang out with those two? I know he’s friends with Caleb and Cole because I’ve seen them leave practice together, but otherwise he usually keeps to himself.
He’s not much of a conversationalist outside of the locker room and even then it usually revolves around the game. I don’t know much about him. All I know is that he’s played for the Storm his entire career, hockey is his life, and he’s from Florida.
He’s always the first to grab the iPad when we get back to the bench after a shift on the ice, to study our play and our opponents—trying to figure out what we can do better the next time.
“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Wes asks.
“I’m good here,” I say.
The guys wave and finally skate away.
“Sorry about them.” I turn back to Madison to see her smirking at me.
“Seems like they’re a fun bunch. I can sit down for a while if you want to run drills with them.” She hooks her thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bench.
