The First Crack
1086 Words
Ava had covered professional sports long enough to know one universal truth.
Athletes were creatures of routine.
Morning skate.
Team meeting.
Video review.
Practice.
Lunch.
Gym.
Interviews.
Repeat.
It was predictable.
Disciplined.
Safe.
Feelings didn’t belong in a championship season.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
⸻
The Frosthawks’ practice facility buzzed with activity.
Skates carved across fresh ice.
Pucks slammed against the boards.
Whistles echoed through the arena.
Ava stood behind the glass with the rest of the media, jotting down notes while photographers snapped hundreds of pictures.
“Captain looks sharp today.”
One reporter nodded toward Liam.
“He always does.”
“He barely missed a shot.”
Ava glanced up.
Liam glided effortlessly across the ice, firing puck after puck into the top corners of the net.
The goalie barely stood a chance.
His teammates cheered.
Someone shouted, “Show-off!”
Liam simply smirked.
For a brief second…
He looked like the twenty-four-year-old she’d once watched practicing alone after college classes.
Always chasing perfection.
Always believing one more hour on the ice could make him better.
Some things never changed.
A whistle blew.
Coach Daniels gathered the players.
“Water break!”
The team skated toward the benches.
Ava lowered her notebook.
She needed a few close-up photos for the article.
Permission had already been granted.
As long as she stayed outside the boards.
She moved closer.
Close enough to hear conversations.
“…Dinner tonight?”
“Nah, I’m exhausted.”
“…Did you see that save?”
“…Coach nearly killed us today.”
Normal hockey chatter.
Until—
“You still taking your coffee black?”
Her heart stumbled.
She turned.
Liam stood on the other side of the boards, helmet tucked beneath his arm.
There were only a few feet between them.
“I changed.”
His eyes flickered toward the coffee cup in her hand.
“No.”
A tiny smile appeared.
“You just added one packet of sugar.”
She stared.
How…
He remembered that?
Five years.
Five years, and he remembered how she took her coffee.
Before she could answer, another voice interrupted.
“Ava!”
She turned.
Ethan jogged toward her carrying two bottled waters.
“I figured you’d need one.”
He handed her a bottle.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
He smiled.
“So, lunch after practice?”
“I’d like that.”
Simple.
Professional.
Friendly.
Nothing more.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Liam’s smile disappear.
His expression hardened.
The assistant coach called everyone back onto the ice.
Liam shoved his helmet on without another word.
Then skated away.
Hard.
Too hard.
The next drill began.
Within seconds…
A defenseman crashed into the boards.
Hard.
Coach Daniels blew the whistle.
“Easy, Hayes!”
Liam didn’t answer.
Another drill.
Another collision.
Another player landed on the ice.
“Damn.”
One of the assistant coaches muttered, “He’s in a mood today.”
Ava frowned.
Liam wasn’t a dirty player.
Aggressive?
Always.
Reckless?
Never.
Something was off.
⸻
Practice ended an hour later.
Players headed toward the locker room.
Ava finished interviewing Coach Daniels before making her way down the hallway.
She rounded a corner—
—and nearly walked straight into Liam.
He caught her elbow before she lost her balance.
Warm fingers.
Strong grip.
For one suspended moment…
Neither of them moved.
“You okay?”
His voice was low.
Concerned.
“I’m fine.”
He let go immediately.
Like touching her had burned him.
Then—
“You and Brooks.”
Ava blinked.
“What about him?”
“You seem… comfortable.”
She folded her arms.
“We’re colleagues.”
“So are we.”
“Not exactly.”
His jaw tightened.
“No.”
A humorless laugh escaped him.
“I suppose we’re not.”
She should have walked away.
Instead…
She asked, “Why do you care?”
His eyes met hers.
Because—
For one heartbeat…
She thought he might actually say it.
That he’d missed her.
That he still loved her.
That watching another man make her smile had driven him insane.
Instead—
“I don’t.”
One sentence.
Four letters.
A lie so obvious it almost made her laugh.
She stepped closer.
Close enough to lower her voice.
“You’ve never been good at pretending.”
His gaze darkened.
“And you’ve always pushed too far.”
“Maybe.”
She tilted her head.
“Are you jealous?”
A dangerous question.
The hallway suddenly felt much smaller.
Players walked past them, but neither noticed.
Liam leaned in slightly.
Not enough to touch.
Just enough that she could smell his familiar cedar-and-mint cologne.
“I don’t get jealous.”
“No?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Then why did you nearly knock Jason into next week after Ethan talked to me?”
His jaw flexed.
She’d noticed.
“I was practicing.”
“You almost broke his shoulder.”
“He’ll live.”
She laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound caught him completely off guard.
For the first time in days…
He saw the woman he’d fallen in love with.
Not the guarded journalist.
Not the ex who kept him at arm’s length.
Just…
Ava.
Beautiful.
Laughing.
Alive.
God, he’d missed that laugh.
She caught herself and quickly looked away.
“I should go.”
He nodded once.
Probably the smartest idea either of them had had all week.
She took two steps.
Then his voice stopped her.
“Ava.”
She didn’t turn around.
“What?”
His next words were almost lost beneath the noise of the arena.
“I hated every interview where someone asked if I was single.”
Her breath caught.
Slowly…
She looked back.
His expression remained unreadable.
“I never knew what answer I wanted to give.”
Before she could respond, his phone vibrated.
The screen lit up with a call from his general manager.
Duty.
Again.
He looked at the screen.
Then at her.
For a split second, it looked like he wanted to ignore it.
Instead…
He answered.
“Hayes.”
Just like that, Captain Liam Hayes returned.
Ava watched him walk away.
Her chest ached with a familiar pain.
Because she suddenly realized something she hadn’t wanted to admit.
She wasn’t the only one pretending to be over the past.
Liam was pretending, too.
And judging by the look in his eyes…
He was just as bad at pretending as she was.
- Writer
