All Chapters of Across The Ice: Falling for my ex’s biggest rival: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The second interview happened three days later, which felt both too soon and somehow overdue. I would have happily pretended the first one counted as a complete piece of journalism, but Melissa had taken one look at my draft and shut that idea down immediately. Apparently, an article composed of Dean Mercer answering in single-syllable words did not qualify as compelling content. She said it with a straight face, which made it worse. I tried to argue. I lost. So I went back. Practice had already wrapped up by the time I got to the rink, which was the only reason I didn’t turn around and leave. The place still smelled faintly like ice and sweat, and players were drifting out in loose clusters, laughing, arguing, already halfway into whatever came next for them. Ryan was in the middle of it all, talking to three different people as he had cloned himself. Dean, on the other hand, was exactly where I expected him to be, sitting off to the side on a bench near the entrance, phone in

If someone had told me a month ago that I would spend my Saturday in the middle of a hockey circus with sponsors, cameras, and a crowd loud enough to shake the walls, I probably would have shrugged and said sure. That part tracks. What I would not have believed is that I would be there because of Easton. That still feels strange when I say it in my head. The Mercer Foundation Summer Classic was bigger than anything I had covered before. By the time I got there just after eight, the parking lot was already chaos. I had to circle twice before finding a spot that felt like it belonged to another zip code. People were pouring in from every direction, jerseys everywhere, kids swinging plastic sticks like they were already in the game. Someone had set up food trucks along the side, and a band was tuning instruments near the entrance, as if this were a concert instead of a charity event. Volunteers in bright blue shirts handed out programs and tried to keep things moving, though no one re

By the final period, the Summer Classic had settled into what it was always supposed to be. Not a competition anyone took too seriously, not a game people would argue about later. Just a day where everything felt lighter. Players exaggerated their falls, and the kids in the stands lost it every time. The crowd cheered for ridiculous saves like they were championship moments. Even the players had stopped pretending this meant anything beyond what it was. It felt easy. Warm in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature of the rink. My camera was almost out of storage, which should have stressed me out, but honestly, it felt like a good problem to have. I crouched near the boards, swapping memory cards as quickly as I could, fingers a little clumsy from the cold. Then the announcer’s voice cut through the arena. “Ladies and gentlemen, before today’s ceremonial presentation, we’d like to invite the captains from each participating university to center ice.” The crowd picked u

The first thing Ava did when she walked into my apartment was grab my favorite blanket like it had been waiting for her all day, dragging it off the back of the couch and wrapping herself in it before I’d even shut the door. She glanced over her shoulder, already settled, and declared, “The blue one is softer,” as if that justified everything. “You’ve been here for thirty seconds,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter. “And?” “You’ve already committed theft.” “It’s borrowing.” “You never return it.” “I return emotional support.” I paused, considering whether that counted as anything, but she was already smiling like she’d won the argument before it started. I shook my head and retreated to the kitchen, deciding it was safer not to engage further, especially since she had a talent for turning anything I said into something else entirely. By the time I came back with takeout, she’d connected my laptop to the TV and queued something up, fully at home in a way that suggested s

Monday came in swinging like it had something personal against me. By the time my afternoon lecture wrapped up, our professor casually dropped a surprise test worth ten percent of our grade, like it was nothing. Half the room groaned. The rest just stared at their papers like they’d already accepted defeat. I didn’t even have time to process it properly before I was stuffing my things into my bag and running across campus, trying not to trip over my own feet. By the time I reached Easton, practice was basically done. Figures. I pushed open the media office door, still catching my breath. “I’m so sorry I’m late.” Melissa looked up from a desk covered in camera batteries and memory cards, her expression shifting from mild concern to relief. “There you are. I honestly thought you weren’t coming today.” “I almost didn’t,” I admitted, dropping my bag onto the nearest chair and dragging a hand through my hair. “We had this surprise test. It went on forever.” She waved it off like it