The Puck Drop by Jaqueline Snowe

CHAPTER TWELVE

Naomi

I paced our small kitchen, and Mona snickered. I barely got any sleep the night before while putting together my potential idea.

Player Profiles. Like interactive hockey cards.

Areas of strength. Areas that needed work. Areas where they made the team stats better.

Qualitative and quantitative dynamic data for players. It took hours to compile one for Helsing. Hours. But it was the first flicker of an idea that got me excited. It came to me after all the bullshit with Cal. How could a guy like him—all stats and talent—be worse for a team? How could we prove that?

Dashboards for player profiles? I was sure they’d been done before, but ones created for the end user to manipulate as the season went on? I saw the benefit—full profiles and adjusting game plans based on the results. It could work… or my dad could shoot it down. Just thinking about him dismissing the idea was enough to have me bite my nail for the third time.

“You’re adorable right now, all nervous like you’re trying out for Mathletes,” Mona said, adjusted her hair as she stared at me.

“First off, I was a Mathlete and won a thousand bucks for a competition,” I said, holding up a finger. “Secondly, I am nervous. I finally feel like this project has legs. I’m excited about it.”

She nodded, her face softening in understanding. “Okay, then I won’t tease you about how you definitely put an extra layer of mascara on and that probably has nothing to do with that sexy-as-hell baby hockey coach.”

“Michael,” I said, my face heating at how transparent I was. God, all the casual touching we did felt scandalous. Just thinking about how close we were to kissing in that bathroom...I swallowed, hard. “It’s not, I’m not…”

“Girl, you look good.”

I eyed my favorite ripped jeans, bright orange chucks, and long-sleeved CENTRAL t-shirt. It wasn’t my favorite outfit, but it bolstered my confidence. “We almost kissed,” I said, already preparing myself for Mona to squee.

She didn’t though. I arched a brow and stared at her like she grew two heads. “Wait, you’re not reacting.”

“I’m thinking.”

“You’re never this quiet.”

“Shh,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “He’s a hockey dude, working for your dad. He goes against all your rules. Sure, he’s hot, and y’all had chemistry, but Fletcher, he’d break your heart.”

“You don’t know that,” I said right back, even though it was statistically the truth. Hockey would always come first to him, and I knew how that story ended.

“True, and he might be a great guy. But he’ll be a hockey coach.” She chewed the side of her mouth and slumped her shoulders. “You know what it did to your family.”

I didn’t need a reminder. My stomach soured, and the butterflies I had earlier when I thought about Michael migrated away, leaving me feeling cold and empty. Offering her a tight smile, I grabbed my bag and keys and walked toward the door. “Wish me luck.”

“Hey, I’m not trying to upset you. Just, I’ve watched you try to piece together your family for years. I want you to be happy and to have fun, but remember where his life is heading.”

My muscles tightened as I left our apartment and made my way to the diner. Mona always gave it to me straight. We were all friends, but Mona never held back. The issues with my dad, the fact my mom was so focused on her new family that I felt left behind, and the situation with Cami. She knew the good and bad about me, and her heart was in the right place.

Falling for Michael Reiner wouldn’t end well for me. It didn’t matter how much I enjoyed his company or the way I was so connected to him. Or how he stood up for what he felt was right, even if it pissed my dad off.

“Naomi?” a familiar voice knocked me out of my mind.  My sister wore a full face of make-up, jeans, and a crop top that showed her toned stomach.

Even early in the morning on what I assumed was her walk back from wherever she spent the night, she was beautiful. “Hey,” I said, my insides twisting.

“You never texted me back. I’ve been trying to call you.” She ran a hand over her perfectly tousled hair and glanced at the ground. “Are you heading somewhere? Could I walk with you?”

“I’m meeting...someone, yeah. I can’t be late.” My face flushed. I was lying to my sister about seeing our dad, but I knew if I mentioned him, she’d tag along, and the conversation would be all about her and dancing. Not the idea I’d come up with.

My throat felt tight, like I swallowed six pairs of socks as she stared at me. Her eyes, so similar to mine, seemed sad. What did she have to be sad about?

“Gage told me he wanted to ask you a question at the bar and you were rude. Is that what Michael meant when he said Gage was bothering you?”

Even with that question, she loaded it like I did something wrong. Like I was horrible to Gage because he’d spoken to me. “Cami, I can’t… stop the bullshit. Please. It’s me.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her mouth forming a perfect oh. She looked pretty when she was confused, angry, or hell, even when she cried. Not me. Never me.

“You got Dad. You have the dance team. Why… why do you always have to go after guys I’m dating?” My voice came out just above a whisper, but I might as well have shouted. Cami blinked and tilted her head.

“What?”

“Brandon from sophomore year. Tyler from senior year. Gage. All three of them I dated.  I went out with them. Then, weeks later, you’re with them. I don’t get it. Do you hate me?” My words were shaky, and my eyes stung.

This was horrible. Everything I’d avoided the past week or so because I knew. I knew whatever I said would cement the fact we weren’t those sisters who called each other every week. Once we graduated, we’d see each other at holidays and that was it—same as the rest of my family.

I sniffed as my entire body pounded from the confrontation. The greens of the trees seemed brighter, the smell of fall clogging my nose, and my tongue was too big for my mouth.

“You think I hate you?” she asked, her voice hollow.

“Why else would you do that to me?”

She stared at me, her jaw tightening as her grip around her phone turned white. My sister paled and the red lipstick made her look like a vampire. “You dated those guys...before me.”

“Cami. Please. The clueless act works for Dad but not on me. You’re better than this.” I wiped under my eyes, regretting wearing mascara because I rivaled a raccoon with school spirit. “I need to go.”

I looked down and walked by her, refusing to glance back at my twin. The divorce sucked for a lot of reasons, but the biggest one was how it changed us. It’d been six years, but the hurt only got worse. I’d experienced one big break up before and cried for a week until I realized I would be okay.

A sister break up was worse—especially my twin. This person was created at the same time as me, shared DNA with me, yet...we couldn’t be more different. The girl who used to share her sleeping bag with me, brushed my hair, and helped me paint my nails was gone.

I stumbled on the sidewalk, righting myself after my feet flirted with the crack in the ground, and I held both hands out in the air like a surfer. I didn’t fall, thank god, but it was a close one.

“Add another point to the tally, Fletcher.”

Michael. I wiped under my eyes again, annoyed at Cami for making me cry. I didn’t have time to clean myself up, so I put on my best smile before facing him. He wore a backwards hat and short sleeves, the dark ink of his tattoos covering his whole arm. My god, my tongue felt too large again but for different reasons. Lusty, wanting to lick him reasons. “Hello.”

Hello?

Could I be any cooler?

“Hello to you too. I’m going with my gut on this one and saying that’s four. Four to zero.” He neared me, but once he got closer, his smile dropped. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“It's nothing. Sorry. Ignore me, please. Especially the racoon eyes.”

He reached over and wiped a tear off my face with his thumb. My stomach swooped at the tender way he touched me, and his frown deepened. “You’re a pretty raccoon, if that helps.”

I snorted and swatted his hand away. “Shut up.”

“Seriously, the prettiest raccoon I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re not helping,” I said, even though my lips curved up and I was already letting go of the tension.

“Yes, I am.” He narrowed his eyes as his gaze dropped to my mouth for a full second. My breath lodged in my throat, and my lips tingled from his attention. But then he put his hands in his pockets and sighed. “Please tell me you’re not sad because of data and hockey.”

“No, that’s not it.” I took a shaky breath just as the sun hit his face, amplifying the strong jawline, the wavy brown hair, and the slight crookedness to his nose. His blue eyes had flecks of brown in them, and his lashes were longer than I expected. He was honestly the most attractive guy I’d ever been around.

No wonder my stomach squirmed and my pulse raced in my neck. I placed a hand over the evidence so he couldn’t see how I reacted. “I ran into Cami just now.”

“Shit, really?” He looked over my shoulder, his brows drawing together in concern. His attention shifted back to me, and he put his arm around my shoulders. “Something no one tells you is how hard it is to have a sibling. Sure, it's fun when you’re growing up and you have a built-in friend, but as an adult, it’s not as easy.”

I’d never heard anyone say that before. He was so right. So damn right. He squeezed my shoulder and let go, taking his clean scent and warmth with him.

“My sister and I get into fights sometimes. They aren’t fun, but those tough conversations help trust grow.”

“But your sister didn’t do things to intentionally upset you.”

He tensed and let out a little laugh. “Not true. She dated this guy on my hockey team which was a total no-no. It worked out, but we yelled. We cussed. Love the guy now, but that’s not the point. Fighting is normal. It means the love is there. You’re hurting because you love your sister.”

“Huh. Interesting way to take it.” Was that why my chest felt stuffed with balloons? Because I loved Cami? I mean, of course I did, but we’d grown apart. We weren’t really friends. I rubbed a hand over my heart. “She acted like she had no idea about dating the guys I did. She puts on this act, and it makes me so mad I just…” My voice shook, and Michael’s face softened.

“When your reactions aren’t as fresh, I’d try to talk to her.”

“Why? I’m not sure this is something we can just get past.” I knew I sounded pouty and whiny, but I didn’t care. “I have friends I love, closer than sisters, really, so why make the effort when she just hurts me? Sometimes it feels like it wouldn’t be that much of a loss.”

Wow, the truth came out, and a disgusting, icky feeling flowed through me.

Lines appeared around his eyes, and he flexed his jaw, almost like I’d annoyed him. Guilt squeezed my stomach, like I did something wrong in saying that, and I blinked.

“Right?” I asked, needing him to understand that this hurt was years deep. Not just right now.

He ran a hand over his face, looking older and sad, and my heart flipped over. That sadness. I recognized it, but it looked so out of place on him. This charming, gorgeous hockey guy was all smiles and jokes, but with the slumped shoulders, the tense lines on his face...what had I done to upset him?

“Only you can answer that question, Naomi. Come on, let’s go meet your dad.” He motioned with his hand for me to go first, and I did, but I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d done something wrong.

I snuck glances at him as we walked toward the diner, the chilly morning air hitting my face, and Michael kept his attention forward. I replayed my words, and yes, they’d sounded harsh, but Cami had hurt me over and over while I kept letting her. The loss of our connection was already there but voicing it out loud like that was weird.

Mr. Chatty didn’t speak a word, and after a few minutes of silence, I reached out with my hand to stop him. Silence from him felt different. Heavier. I hated it. It was like an internal itch I couldn’t scratch, and I needed to find the root of it.

He walked into my hand, his toned stomach pressing against my wrist for two seconds before I pulled it back, like his sheer strength electrocuted my entire arm. Like a million ants crawled from where my fingers briefly dug into his stomach, all the way up my forearm and to my shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, swallowing the nervous ball that made my voice come out deeper than intended. “I feel like I upset you, and I don’t enjoy this feeling.”

“You didn’t upset me,” he said, no warmth to his tone. He might as well have been talking about the weather or taxes. It’s supposed to rain. Did you do your W-9?

“Michael, please,” I said, something in the lilt of my voice making him look at me. Pain swirled around his eyes, numbing my own issues.

What had him looking so sad? We stared at each other in an impasse of sorts, neither of us saying a word but I knew in my soul we were having a moment.

I didn’t know if it was a good or bad one, but when his tongue wet his bottom lip, I felt the motion low in my gut. “I’m sorry for whatever I did.”

He bit down on his lip as he let out a groan of frustration, and he rolled his shoulders back. “It’s really not you, I promise.  I just…”

His face pinched together, and without thinking, I grabbed his forearm, like that touch would urge him to share his thoughts. I didn’t want him to hide from me. I already shared too much, and it would even the scales.

He studied my hand on his forearm, and he released a long breath that tickled my face. He cracked his neck side to side, his jaw set in determination. “My sister and I are the only ones still alive in my family. We lost our parents in a car accident a few years ago, so I have a different perspective when it comes to family. I don’t… don’t talk about it often, and I’m sorry my internal reactions came out. I didn’t intend for them to.”

My brain worked fast. It put the pieces together quickly, and I didn’t like the end picture.

“You’ve been listening to me complain about petty shit with my sister and dad when you lost your parents,” I said, absolutely hating myself. It felt like a gut punch. He had to think I was the worst. What a privileged life I led, bitching about my sister dating guys and my dad having insides jokes with her. They were alive.

My eyes stung for the second time that morning, and I wanted to throw up. “Oh my god,” I said, more to myself than Michael. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“What? No. No,” he said, stepping closer to me and putting a hand on my shoulder. His thumb touched my neck, and he grazed the skin there once, then twice. My body lit up from his touch. “I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.”

“How can I not? My problems are so trivial compared to yours.”

“Stop.” He was pissed now. Flared nostrils, harsh tone. “This isn’t a competition of who deserves to be sad or upset. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“You must think I’m awful for saying that then.”

He didn’t respond right away, and my gut twisted. This entire time, I thought Cami was the villain in our story, taking our dad and intentionally upsetting me. But his few seconds of silence made me wonder if I was to blame too.

“I don’t believe you’re awful, Naomi. Not at all.” His thumb brushed my cheek again, and he dropped his hand. His deep voice felt like a comforting hug, and half his mouth lifted with a grin. “Not even a little bit. I think family is complicated and that pain is a moveable scale.”

“I had no idea of your past, Michael,” I said, my nose getting stuffy and my head fuzzy. “I can’t even process it.”

“You don’t need to.” He smiled again, no more sorrow in his eyes. “I’m not giving you advice because you didn’t ask for it, but if I may suggest something…” he paused, arched a brow, and I nodded a little too fast.

He could suggest just about anything and I’d agree to it just to get the horrible pang out of my chest.

“Yes, of course, yes,” I said.

“Take whatever time you need to, but,” he said, pausing, a small twitch in his left eye. “You have an opportunity to change things. You’re on campus with her. Life goes fast, and I can only share my experience, but I miss the hell out of my sister. We’d get weekly lunches where I’d annoy her, or my teammates would pick on her. You’re going to graduate soon and move, and it’ll get harder to communicate, see her, and figure out the conflict between you.”

My entire body pounded at his words. He was right, but I wanted to stomp my foot and disagree. He didn’t know how much she hurt me, how much I’d wanted a sister the last few years. But I chewed the inside of my cheek and nodded.

“I can literally feel smoke coming out of your ears, Fletcher.” He flashed a quick grin and jutted his chin toward the diner. “I’m happy to talk to you about this anytime you want.” He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, giving me another sinful glance at his biceps. I sighed, pushing out all the negative thoughts about Cami.

This wonderful guy suffered through losing his parents and still found ways to laugh and talk to me about my petty shit. I could fix this with Cami. I had to. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her and we never resolved...this issue between us.

Michael had helped me see that. A different kind of warmth spread from my chest to my fingers, more than lust or kinship. Trust, a longing for him. The morning sun hit his face perfectly, showcasing his dark hair and gorgeous blue eyes. There really was something magnetic about him.

He held the door for me, wiggling his eyebrows as he said, “Let’s go, nerd.”

I walked past him, taking in his clean scent, and it hit me. I felt some sort of way for Michael Reiner.

I was screwed.