LIAM
Hockey practice at six in the morning should be illegal.
I’m already regretting every life decision that led me here as I step into the rink, duffel bag on my shoulder and the cold air biting at my face. The fluorescent lights overhead flicker slightly, casting a dull glow over the ice. Most of the guys are already here, stretching, taping their sticks, chugging down whatever energy drinks they swear by.
I should be focused. Locked in. Ready to skate until my legs give out. But my mind is still stuck on yesterday—on Emilia.
She looked at me like I was the problem. Like she needed to put as much space between us as possible.
And maybe she’s right.
I shake off the thought and drop my bag onto the bench, yanking my jersey over my head. Cam claps a hand on my shoulder as he passes b
