Pucking Only (Night Hawks Hockey #2)

Chapter Ten Heat

CHAPTER TEN: HEAT

SKYLER

I adjust my chair and focus on my computer screen, which is a maze of variables, functions, and algorithms, each line carefully constructed to bring my fledgling virtual world to life. I'm working on the AI for the players, ensuring they move and react just like their real-life counterparts.

The challenge is to make each player on the ice act independently yet cohesively as a team. I tweak the predictive positioning that dictates how a player should react in different scenarios, whether it's a fast break toward the goal or a strategic defensive play. I want them to have the same instincts, the same split-second decision-making abilities that I observed during the Night Hawks' practice, so I added some basic coordinated movement components.

Tying in a few lines of code, I proceed to run a simulation to see how the character objects respond. On the screen, the avatars skate across the digital rink, executing plays with varying degrees of success. One player makes a quick pass, but the timing is off, and the puck sails past its intended target. I jot down notes, analyzing what needs to be adjusted .

My flow is interrupted when my computer pings, indicating an email has come in.

Groaning in frustration, I click out of my work and bring up my email.

Ugh…it’s from Samuel. No thanks.

Another email comes in just as I’m about to delete the one from Samuel. This one is from Mr. Ferguson. Damn it. Can’t really ignore this one.

Skyler,

I wanted to touch base regarding your progress. Will you be able to meet the deadline? From what you’ve sent me so far, I’m starting to question if you'll be able to complete this in time. If that is the case, then I’d like you to let me know sooner rather than later so that I can offer more resources to Samuel.

G. Ferguson

Irritation pours through me. He’s already assuming I’ll fail? What a dick! It will be so satisfying when my game is done and blows them all away.

After sending my reply, where I assure him oh-so-nicely that everything is going well, I sit back in my chair and stretch my neck from side to side. I’ve been working all day, focusing on my work so I don’t have to think about what happened between Carson and me last night. Now, though, the memories come rushing back. Carson pushing me up against the alley wall, his lips totally dominating mine…the silkiness of his hair against my fingers…

I blink and then shake my head sharply. What is happening to me? Why can’t I stop having these types of thoughts about him? I don’t want to want him.

My wandering thoughts are suddenly interrupted when there’s a loud knock on the apartment’s door. I jump up, startled, and a little panicked. Who could it be? Carson? Shit! I’m a mess. I’m wearing old black sweatpants and a Hades t-shirt. My hair is a loose mess, all tangled up from combing my fingers through it as I was thinking and working. When a second knock sounds, I hurry to answer it. I look out the peephole and release a sigh of relief. Opening the door I’m greeted by Grace’s cheerful face. She is holding two bottles of wine and beaming from ear to ear. She’s dressed in a Night Hawks sweatshirt that’s clearly Jensen’s and way too big for her, along with black leggings, her hair thrown up in a messy bun.

“Hey!” I say. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re having a girl’s night!” she exclaims, waving the bottles and moving past me to get into the apartment.

“A girl’s night?” I arch a brow in surprise and close the door behind us.

“We haven’t been able to spend much time together, just the two of us,” she states as she makes her way to the kitchen area to grab a bottle opener. “We need to have a check-in. A night to ourselves.”

“No complaints here,” I reply with a grin. I start opening cupboard doors, looking for the wine glasses. Grace steps in and grabs them out of a cupboard above the sink and pours us each a drink.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing my free hand and leading me into the living room. “Let’s find something to watch and chat. We can order pizza later. Sound good?”

I nod. “Sounds great.”

Settling on the couch, we put on Love Island to serve as the background noise to our conversation. Maybe watching someone else’s drama unfold on TV will make me feel better about my own.

We chat about random things for a bit, and she updates me on our old roommates, Rylee and Sutton.

“Seriously? Rylee gets to go to the Super Bowl?” I shake my head, stunned.

Grace nods. “Yeah, ESPN has commissioned her as one of their photographers. She’s going to be right on the field.”

“That’s nuts! I can’t believe she’s already getting such high profile jobs.”

“Well, it helps that she’s got a huge Insta following that she’s been cultivating since we were freshmen,” Grace points out. “She’s been able to really build her brand as a sports photographer because of it.”

“Ah, the digital age and its wonders,” I murmur. “And Sutton? Have you talked to her lately?”

Grace nods. “She’s loving the architecture firm she’s working for. She’s been hitting the ground running, designing digital blueprints for them and she’s loving it. She’s hoping she’ll get to spearhead her own project by this coming summer.”

Damn, my friends are impressive. Not that I’m surprised, Rylee and Sutton always gave off the facade of being airheads, but in reality, they’re both crazy smart and creative. I feel a stab of guilt that I haven’t done a better job of keeping in touch with them. I hadn’t thought about it too much before, but I’ve really been dedicating a significant chunk of my life and time to my job.

It will all be worth it in the end. It has to be.

“Oh, random! Do you remember Stacey Dixon from high school?” Grace suddenly asks.

I frown and nod. “Yeah, of course I do. She transferred or something in the middle of senior year, didn’t she? ”

“Yep,” Grace says. Something flashes across her expression. It’s there and gone so fast, I can’t be certain, but it almost seemed like…anger? “She reached out to me the other day after noticing on my socials that I now live in Colorado. She’s actually been going to school in Denver and wants to reconnect!”

“That’s great,” I say, but I’m a little confused. Grace and Stacey were close when we were all in school together (not as close as Grace and me, of course), but after Stacey left, I don’t remember Grace ever talking about her again. It seems kind of random that the two would hang out now… whatever… it’s not really my business. “I’m glad she felt she could reach out.”

Grace nods and then appears thoughtful for several moments before clearing her throat and smiling back up at me.

“So, tell me,” Grace says, relaxing back against the sofa cushions. “How are things going with the game? Are you feeling good about where you’re at with it?”

“Things are actually great,” I tell her. “I’ve gotten a ton of ideas already that I’m incorporating into the game’s script and am nailing down my plans for a few special characters and their playing styles. I’ve been using learning algorithms and AI to analyze some video I’ve taken of the Night Hawks while they're on the ice. It’s been able to help make the mechanics and physics of these players more realistic.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Grace says with a grin. “But you sound like such a boss when you explain your work. I know you were kind of iffy about it since sports games aren’t really your thing, but you’re so damn smart and creative. I had every confidence you’d find your footing.”

I chuckle and then let out a long sigh. “Yeah, now if only my boss would stop checking in on me all the fucking time. It’s like he doesn’t trust that I can actually pull this off. In fact, he sent me an email earlier all but telling me to throw in the towel so he could give more support to Samuel! And don’t even get me started on that weasel! There’s an email from him waiting in my inbox that I’m sure is just him taunting me about how I’m not as far along as he is in the design and development process.”

Grace rolls her eyes, all-too-familiar with my beef with Samuel.

“You should just block Samuel,” she states. “He’s distracting you from your work, so you can always use that excuse. As for your boss, tell him you're disconnecting from work while you focus on the game. He can’t get mad at you for that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure he’ll find a way,” I grumble before taking a long drink of wine. “It seems like, no matter how hard I try or how good I am, there’s always one more obstacle in my path. One more bump in the road I have to step over. It’s exhausting.”

“I still don't understand why you keep putting up with him? I get that he's worked there longer than you, but seriously Skyler, you are way more talented. No one deserves to be treated that way, and especially not my best friend. It makes me so mad for you,” Grace growls, her eyes flashing with menace.

I reach over and pat her hand. “I know, I know, and I appreciate you holding back your mama bear instincts and not ripping their sorry asses to shreds. It’s all going to be okay, I promise.”

She blows out a long breath. “If you’re sure, I’ll hold back my thirst for blood.”

“I really appreciate it.”

That earns me a grin.

“All right,” she sighs, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch and propping her head up in her hand as she looks at me. “Let’s focus on the positives. You’re feeling good about your plans for the game and have a better understanding of hockey.”

I nod, grinning eagerly and pulling my knees up under me as I look back at her. “Yes! And, oh my gosh, Zander has been such a huge help. I can’t believe I found a guy who’s good at hockey and thinks like a programmer.”

Grace regards me for a minute with an arched brow and a thoughtful expression. “What, uh, is going on between you guys exactly? You have been spending quite a bit of time with him since you two met.”

I blink, a little caught off guard by the question. I suppose I shouldn’t be. Grace is right, after all. I have been spending a lot of time with Zander. He’s smart and sweet and, like I said, ridiculously good-looking. Still, when I think of him, I don’t feel the heat I would expect to feel around such a near perfect man. There’s warmth, but it’s the same kind of warmth I feel when I’m around Grace - I’m comfortable. I feel safe.

But I don’t feel…hot.

There’s no tingle downstairs. No butterflies in my stomach. I can appreciate how attractive he is and fantasize about him throwing me around in the bedroom, but those fantasies are like when I imagine Chris Hemsworth tossing me around like I’m Mjolnir, or Henry Cavill throwing me against the wall like I’m Batman.

It’s pure imagination. There’s no real desire within me to make those thoughts a reality.

That realization is rather disappointing.

“Well,” I begin, choosing my words carefully. “Zander’s great. More than great. He’s fun to talk to and we’ve got quite a bit in common. I’d be lying if I say I haven’t flirted with him a bit, but… ”

“But?” Grace prompts when I go silent.

“But,” I sigh. “I think we’re better off as friends than anything else. He’s too much of a buddy now.”

“Is it because your hook-ups have never been given the option to be your friends that you are now classifying Zander in the friend zone?” Grace asks with a slight frown. “I'm honestly not sure why you're so against relationships.”

Because being in a relationship means being vulnerable to someone - really vulnerable - and that only opens me up to getting hurt. I don’t say that, though. I can’t confess that her brother broke my heart and humiliated me so badly that I’ve refused to give anyone the chance to do so since.

Instead, I shrug and say, “It’s not that. I just don’t have time for relationships, and with Zander, well…it’d be like making out with you.”

“As if you’d be so lucky,” she giggles.

I waggle my eyebrows. “I could easily seduce you away from Jensen if I wanted.”

Grace lets out a bark of laughter.

“Oh, well, it’s good you’ve figured that out early,” she says. I narrow my eyes and study her more closely when I notice the corners of her mouth twitching, as if she’s holding back a grin. She also seems to visibly relax, her shoulders sagging slightly as if in relief.

“You seem strangely pleased that I’m not interested in Zander romantically,” I accuse, suspicion brewing within me. “Why would that be?”

“What?” Grace exclaims a little too loudly. She reaches up to play with her hair, but she seems to have forgotten it's up in a bun. She’s had that little tell since we were kids…she always plays with her hair when she’s nervous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just glad you know where your head's at , that’s all. I’d hate for you to get involved in something that doesn’t end up working out.”

I’m not buying it. Something’s going on in that sneaky little brain of hers.

“Grace,” I say, drawing out her name. “You’re holding something back. I can tell.”

“No, really,” she insists. “I just want you to be happy. Plus, I know this will make Carson unclench his buttcheeks because he won’t have to obsess over you and one of his teammates hooking up.”

At the mention of Carson, my cheeks immediately flush and my mind is filled with memories from our kiss in the alley. The feel of his hands on me… his lips moving over mine… the heat that rushed through my body and made me melt for him.

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? I can’t have these thoughts about Carson! Especially not when I’m sitting right next to his sister, my best friend!

“You okay, Sky?” Grace asks, her brow furrowed in concern as she looks at me. “Your cheeks got really red all of a sudden.”

“Oh, uh, you know… the wine,” I reply.

“I’ve been with you when you drink wine,” she presses. “You’re never like this, Sky. Something else is going on. What’s up?”

I feel a spike of panic as I try to think of some excuse to give. I am saved when her phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. Relief washes over me.

“Oh, what’s that?” I say, trying to come up with some joke to distract her further from me and my red cheeks. “I thought it was girl’s night, but you’re going to ditch me for a viral emergency?”

Ew…that sucked. Not at all in line with my usual caliber of zingers .

Thankfully, Grace doesn’t seem to notice as she picks up her phone and breaks into a wide smile.

“It’s my mom!” she exclaims. Oh, yes, that would explain the huge smile. Grace and her mom have always been close. I’d be envious of their tight bond if Mrs. Monroe hadn’t also made the effort my whole life to build a bond with me as well. Grace answers the call and puts it on speaker. “Hey, mama. I’ve got you on speaker. Skyler’s here!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mrs. Monroe’s cheery voice filters into the room, wrapping around me like a fuzzy blanket. “Hello, Skyler dear! Grace had told me you were going to be visiting her. I’m so glad you’re there!”

“Hi Mrs. Monroe!” I reply, grateful for the well-timed interruption so I don’t have to keep dancing around the subject of Carson and my complicated feelings for him. “I’m glad I’m here too! I’ve missed Grace so much.”

“Well, I miss you both,” she says. “How are things, Skyler? Are you still working for that gaming company in California?”

“I am,” I nod. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I’m working on a hockey game and thought I’d come out and get some first-hand knowledge from the Night Hawks.”

“Mom, I told you all that,” Grace pipes in with a loving yet exasperated huff of breath. “She’s working with Jensen and Carson and the team for her game.”

“Oh, yes, yes,” Mrs. Monroe says. “That’s right, you did tell me. Sorry about that, Skyler. It’s the pits getting older. Information doesn’t stick quite as well as it used to.”

I chuckle. “No worries, Mrs. Monroe.”

“Is everything ok, Mom?” Grace asks. “You don’t usually call this late.”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Monroe agrees. “Sorry about that, sweetheart, but I just wanted to make sure you’ve got your father’s and my thirtieth anniversary party on your calendar for next month. I was just talking to Carson earlier today to remind him to do the same. And you too, Skyler! Your father will be there and we want you there as well!”

“Of course I’ll be there, Mrs. Monroe,” I assure her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Wonderful!” she exclaims. “It’s going to be so good to have all my children with me again. I’ve been missing you all so, so much!”

It doesn’t escape my notice that she's included me as one of her children. That makes me smile and tear up a bit. As Grace and her mom continue chatting about the party, I sit back and simply enjoy the feeling of love and acceptance that the Monroes have always given me. Growing up without my mom was hard, but Mrs. Monroe stepped in whenever she could and became that maternal figure I’d always craved.

I owe so much to the Monroes, especially Grace and her mom. They’ve been so good to me throughout my life. That’s just more reason for me to put my kiss with Carson out of my head entirely, as if it never happened. I could never risk ostracizing myself from his family. They are too important to me.

Far more important than that heat that sizzled between me and Carson…the same heat I seem to be missing with Zander.

One kiss doesn’t change anything between us. It was a momentary lapse in judgment and doesn’t mean I’m opening my heart to him in any way whatsoever. I’ll never let him hurt me again.