Cross Check

Part 1 - Chapters 1 to 7

Part 1 - Chapters 1 to 7

The Tau Kappa Epsilon house is quiet tonight, and Grant Everett is grateful for it. He finds a seat next to James Phillips, captain of FSU's club hockey team and fraternity president. Grant is stressed about winter finals; James waves it off. Everyone knows Grant is going to the NHL, he insists. Grant argues no one will draft a club player who grew up in Florida. James bets him ten bucks he'll be on a pro team in five years.

The TV ticker catches their attention: the Orlando Falcons just fired their head coach in the middle of a six-game win streak. Then the broadcast shifts to a women's hockey game, Wisconsin versus Ohio State, and Grant's mouth drops open. He demands to know who the beautiful blonde coach behind Wisconsin's bench is. James identifies her as Amelia Green, an NCAA icon, undefeated for two years as Badgers captain, now an assistant at her alma mater. Grant is instantly smitten. James warns him off with the example of his own mother, a powerful attorney who married his dad, a scientist, to avoid dating within her field. The message is clear: someone like Amelia would never get involved with someone in the sport.

Grant doesn't care. He looks her up, follows her social media account, and tells James he's in love. James declares that the day Amelia Green looks twice at him, he has to call. Grant makes the deal.

Italian Restaurant, Seven Seasons Ago

Amelia Green is suffering through the worst date of all time. The man across the table chews with his mouth open, asks forward questions about her salary, and rants about how hockey has gotten soft. Hiring women as coaches? Pride tape? Amelia rebuts him with Manon Rhéaume and the fact that NHL teams with women in executive roles produce better records. He dismisses it as nepotism. She calls him a sexist pig, drops three twenties on the table, and excuses herself to the restroom.

She locks herself in a stall and sets a five-minute timer. This is why she doesn't date much. As the first female coach in the NHL, an assistant for the Denver Goldminers, she deals with men who want tickets or lineup advice, jokes about how many players she's slept with (zero, a vow she took when she signed her contract), and men who can't handle her success.

When the timer goes off, she returns to find the date gone. A hand on her arm stops her. The man at the table behind hers recognizes her. He's Grant Everett, rookie drafted by the DC Stars, third line right winger. He tells her her date was a fucking idiot. She has a no-fraternization policy with anyone in the league, so she declines his offer of a drink, but he's unfailingly polite, bashful, and confesses he's a big fan who has watched her Wisconsin highlights a thousand times. That gives her pause. She sits down. This is a work conversation, she tells herself.

Grant is twenty-one. He graduated high school early, played club hockey at FSU, somehow got drafted, and now he's waiting for someone to tell him it's all a mistake. He's humble, no ego. His weird superstition is spaghetti the night before a game, his mom's old recipe, plus garlic bread and ranch dressing for dipping. She teases that he's easily manipulated. She orders her key lime pie to go, tells him players who recognize they're in the hot seat perform better, and that she'd pick that kind of player every time. He asks whether to call her Amelia or Coach Green; she says Amelia. She wishes him luck and walks out. On the sidewalk, she glances over her shoulder and finds him watching her through the restaurant window, cheeks red.

Visitors' Locker Room, Denver

Grant is staring at his phone like he's mad at it. Ethan Richardson, the team's first line center, wants to know what's wrong. Grant admits he's debating whether to send a private message. Ethan assumes it's a dick pic and launches into a terrible tutorial. Captain Maverick Miller chimes in about not locking yourself down your first year. Hudson Hayes reminds Maverick of the time he accidentally sent a dick pic meant for someone else. Riley Mitchell asks how Ethan would even manage the photo with both hands occupied. Liam Sullivan, the goalie, is disgusted. The locker room descends into chaos until Coach Brody Saunders barks at Ethan to sit his ass down.

Coach's scouting report is sobering: the Goldminers won last year's Stanley Cup, they win the majority of their face-offs, and their rebounding and pressure at the crease are the best in the league. Grant should be paying attention, but his mind drifts to Amelia Green. Even prettier in person. He's going to see her again tonight. She mentioned her no-fraternization policy, and he wonders whether he's even allowed to look at her when he skates past Denver's bench.

Coach snaps his name. Grant gives a sheepish smile. The line combinations are announced: Sullivan, Miller, Hayes, Mitchell, Parker, and Bailey. The Stars have been one of the worst teams in the league for five years, and management believes this is the group that will finally turn the corner.

Grant goes through his usual pregame ritual—a sports drink and a handful of Skittles—but something is off. His hands shake. His knee bounces. Two months as a professional hockey player and he's never felt this anxious. Hudson notices and puts a hand on his shoulder. Hudson offers steady reassurance: Grant is a good player, he should go out there and work hard, have fun. When Hudson shares his own perspective—that he reminds himself he gets to play when things feel overwhelming—Grant's smile comes more naturally.

Maverick calls for the circle, and they break with a shout of "Teamwork." By the time he hits the ice, he's grinning.

But he can't help sneaking a glance at the Goldminers' bench, where he spots Amelia standing with two men. She's too damn beautiful. She notices. Their eyes meet, and her lips twitch into a smile. He keeps both hands on his stick and gives her a nod—composed, mature, not breaking any of her rules.

Ethan asks if Grant sees someone cute in the stands. Grant deflects, letting Ethan assume it's a brunette three rows up. But Amelia noticed him for a second, and that feels important.

Two and a half hours later, after a scoreless game that Maverick takes over in the third period, the Stars sneak out a win. Grant lingers behind, watching Coach Saunders talk to Amelia near the home bench. When the conversation ends, Grant skates back onto the ice under the pretext of heading to the media coordinator. He makes a hard left and stops in front of the Goldminers' bench.

He says hi. She remembers his name. He tells her he follows her on social media. She won't return the favor—conflict of interest—but admits she's seen his pages. She calls him confusing: "You're nicer than I thought you'd be." He fires back that her Stanley Cup reign won't last more than a season, and she almost smiles. She steps onto the ice, and their back-and-forth continues. He explains he's generally an okay guy, though he'll turn into an asshole over things like people abandoning shopping carts in parking lots. She agrees on the cart thing.

As they walk toward the locker rooms, he respects her boundaries, offering to stop following her if it makes her uncomfortable. She lets him keep following. Their banter sharpens—she insists he call her "Coach Green" when they're on the ice; he counters that he'll save "Amelia" for the next Italian restaurant he finds her in, and she nearly trips. He takes off for the tunnel, whistling, already counting down the seconds to their next meeting. Three months. Six days. Seventeen hours. Amelia Green is under his skin now.

AMELIA · FEBRUARY, SEVEN SEASONS AGO

Amelia slides into a booth across from her two best friends, Sienna and Lainey, apologizing for her meeting running long. Sienna calls Amelia a trailblazer, and there are internet fan groups dedicated to her. Amelia's cheeks heat. She knew there would be a spotlight when she took the job in Denver—being a "first" attracts attention. Sometimes she feels a thousand things to do while a million people watch and hope she fails. But she reminds herself she's dreamed of this life, wants to make a difference for future generations of girls watching her journey.

Her team is in a slump. It's only February. A four-game road trip looms: DC, Detroit, Orlando, then Raleigh.

Lainey mentions that Maverick Miller is hot. The name is a reminder that Grant Everett will be in the same arena in two days. She hasn't heard a peep from him since their last matchup three months ago—no comments, no likes, no messages. The silence is good. Great, really. She doesn't know where a conversation with him would lead.

She's been around enough men in this sport to have them figured out: the arrogance, the pretty privilege, the bad boys who know how not to get caught. Grant fits none of those molds. Nothing about him screams hockey player. He's an enigma who will be in her periphery for the next ten to twelve years, and she

Part 2 - Chapters 8 to 14

Photo shoot with Emmy Hartwell

At a league photoshoot, Amelia Green and Emerson Hartwell pose for the final snapshot, both smiling through aching cheeks. Emmy declares there has to be at least one good photo, and Amelia jokes about customer service workers doing this all day. Emmy would rather kick someone's ass on the ice than find her good side; Amelia tells her it's her left. When Amelia mentions she played at Wisconsin, and that Wisco beat Ohio State all four years while she was there, Emmy laughs, thrilled to have found someone sarcastic and snarky. She asks a crew member to take a photo of them together, saying she needs to document the first of many times they'll hang out.

The mood turns candid when Emmy calls the league's diversity push performative bullshit. Amelia agrees. They both know they barely have a seat at the table, and plenty of people pretend to be their biggest fans to their faces while secretly hoping they fail. Emmy offers Amelia a chair next to her in the small space she has, and Amelia promises to tell anyone who complains to fuck off. With college rivalry set aside, Emmy declares Amelia her new favorite person in the name of taking down the patriarchy, then rushes off to a surprise weight training session.

Back in her hotel room, Amelia posts the photo with the caption "women in sports," tagging Emmy. She rarely shares personal moments, but this one merges both parts of her: coach of a men's professional team and a woman who roots for other women in her field. She falls asleep content, knowing she has a new friend to call when she needs help navigating the shit directed her way.

Then a notification catches her eye. GMoneyEverett18 liked the photo. It's the first real trace of Grant Everett on her social media, and her grip tightens on her phone. She taps over to his profile: a photo with a blonde woman who shares his smile, another with Ethan Richardson shirtless on a boat, Grant sunburnt and mid-laugh with freckles across the bridge of his nose, a picture with Riley Mitchell in matching glasses holding a Lego set, and a team shot with Grant sitting in Hudson's lap, his hand resting on Connor McKenzie's thigh.

Before she can second-guess herself, she types: "You're quick to dole out likes. Please tell me your life is more exciting than sitting around waiting for me to post on social media." The messages in her inbox from other players feel different from this. It's not the same. But she tells herself he can be a friend. A friend with a mutual interest in hockey and good sandwiches. That's allowed. She hits send.

His response comes back almost instantly. He jokes that he's going to say yes only so she doesn't think he's pathetic, then asks how it went with Emmy, calling the photo great. Their messages bounce back and forth: Amelia says she and Emmy are planning to take over the world; Grant says he's going to make Green/Hartwell pins and hand them out. When Amelia calls him the enemy, he says that's fair. The conversation goes on longer than she planned, until Grant points out the best part about social media: she's not a coach on here, so her rules about names don't apply. "Good night, Amelia."

Her heart pounds like a drum she swears the whole hotel can hear. She fumbles her phone, turns it off, and sets it on the nightstand, insisting to herself she won't give it any more attention tonight.

Puck Kings Book Club

At Maverick's place, the Puck Kings Book Club convenes in March for its second-to-last gathering of the season. Maverick knocks a plastic gavel against the coffee table and calls for order. Ethan teases him for thinking reading romance books will make Emmy want to sleep with him. Riley cracks that no one wants to sleep with Ethan either, and Ethan boasts about his social media followers, insisting he doesn't like being roped in with the virgins. Grant drops his book, blames sweaty palms, and tries to steer the conversation back to the book, praising the scene where the hero takes care of the heroine after she's thrown from a horse. Connor challenges him to read a dark romance, and Grant swears he's an equal opportunity reader who can handle anything, even though Riley reminds him he can't watch a scary movie without covering his eyes. Grant vows to search for the darkest dark romance book in existence to prove he can read anything.

Then his phone lights up on the table, and Ethan snatches it. Grant's heart stops. He's terrified a message from Amelia has surfaced. The guys have no idea they've spent time together, that he liked her photo, that he fell asleep smiling because of their messages. Ethan gasps and calls him a dog, and Grant's life flashes before his eyes.

It's not Amelia. It's Betsy Buchanan. A former UCLA volleyball player turned influencer has just followed Grant on Instagram, and she's sent him a message saying she saw a couple videos of him and wanted to say hi. The room erupts. Ethan explains how hot she is, and Maverick welcomes Grant to the good life, telling him he can have anyone he wants, whenever he wants, sometimes multiple people at the same time. Grant forces a smile and says he's made it.

The truth is he's the least experienced one on the team. He's twenty-two, a professional hockey player, and he's never had sex. He's tried the one-night stand thing, but it never works. He needs connection, an attachment, before things can move forward physically. His younger sister calls him a sensitive, sweet-souled anomaly of a man. Betsy Buchanan is attractive as hell, but these days Grant isn't interested in striking up a conversation with anyone. He hasn't been since he met Amelia. He knows he'll have to get over his pathetic crush eventually; she's made it abundantly clear they can never be anything more than friends. But she's so goddamn interesting, and he's going to be delusional a little while longer.

He lies to Ethan, saying he'll message Betsy back, and shoves his phone between the couch cushions. Ethan turns his attention to Maverick, pressing him about not having been seen with any women all year. Mav deflects, claiming his hobbies have changed. Ethan isn't buying it. The meeting derails further when Liam threatens to throw his phone into the ocean if he ever has to see photo evidence of Ethan's dick, and the room turns noisy before Maverick drags out a whiteboard and makes a list of the best terms of endearment in romance books. Princess, mama, sweetheart, and a well-timed baby at the top of the list, underlined twice. Book club is chaos as usual.

Grant, having nothing to add, yawns and heads out, saying he hasn't been sleeping well with the trade deadline coming up. Maverick assures him no one is going anywhere; the lineup works and Coach Saunders would be stupid to change anything this late in the season. Grant tells him not to jinx it. After a ten-minute round of goodbyes, he stands in the hallway, scrolls through Betsy Buchanan's profile, and waits for a flash of attraction. Nothing comes. He sighs and calls his sister instead.

Ice cream with Hannah

Hannah is waiting outside her apartment when Grant pulls up. She's eighteen months younger, a professional figure skater, and they could pass for twins if not for her blonde hair. She teases him for not calling in three weeks, even though they live eight minutes apart. She's spent the last four hours planning a new routine for a competition next year, probably in over her head, but what fun is life if you don't take risks. Grant asks if she'll come to a playoff game. She says she could be persuaded, then asks if he's going to give her number to any of his teammates. Absolutely not, he says; she deserves much better than those idiots. Stay far away from hockey guys. She turns the question on him: is there a new WAG in his life? Grant says the only wagging happening is the tails on Hudson's dogs. Hannah groans about spending the next ten years seeing details of her brother's sex life on TMZ because he won't settle down. He says he's a nobody in the league. She tells him people go wild for information about any athlete, and since he looks like her, he's not tragically inept in the appearance department.

At the ice cream shop, his phone buzzes. It's not the team group chat. It's Amelia, and Grant can't fight off his grin. Hannah swats him, asking if he's blushing. He insists it's warm in here. He hands her his card and asks for a scoop of cookies and cream in a cup, telling her to tip them well, then steals a glance at his phone while she's preoccupied.

Amelia asks whether the Stars are going to make any moves at the trade deadline. Grant responds that he's bored at home watching SportsCenter, listening to guys who don't know a thing about the sport weigh in on trades that make no sense. They said Maverick Miller should go to St. Louis. Amelia jokes that St. Louis has a very large arch. Grant says this is the best the team has looked since they won the Cup, and they're not touching a thing; it's just what the governor said in a press conference, not classified info. Amelia teases his lack of humility. He backpedals, insisting he's not even a top-seventy-five player

Part 3 - Chapters 15 to 19

The night before training camp

Grant's apartment, the last night of summer. Ethan groans about training camp starting tomorrow, and Grant insists he actually misses having his ass kicked. The guys tease him about his bare apartment, but Grant surveys his space with quiet awareness: his entry-level contract and single brand deal earn him high six figures, far less than his teammates, and he's afraid to spend money on nice things, as if the universe will snatch everything away. He's happy with his Ikea bookshelves and the thrift store couch he found with Hannah. One day he'll have a big table for everyone, but for now, it's enough.

Ethan reveals his new livestream side hustle, wearing a motorcycle helmet and teasing an audience of three thousand anonymous viewers. Grant is disgusted, lobbing pillows at his best friend, and the whole apartment suddenly feels contaminated. The group disperses. Riley stays behind to help clean up, and it quickly becomes clear he has an ulterior motive.

Riley asks, awkward and nervous, whether Grant has feelings for anyone who works for the team. Grant guesses Lexi, but no. The crush is gone, he says. There's someone else. He tells Riley about a person who has made it clear they're just friends, with zero hope of anything more, but whose presence triggers an annoying voice in the back of his head whispering what if. Two years of knowing Amelia and the crush has become unavoidable. He misses her. He keeps his distance and respects her boundaries, but agreeing to be her friend was the dumbest decision of his life. Riley, in turn, confesses his own hopeless crush on Lexi, insisting she's so far out of his league he'd rather suffer in silence than try. Grant promises on the bro code that he has no feelings for Lexi, and Riley heads home, brighter for having asked.

Grant lies on his bed, opens Instagram, and sends Amelia a painfully awkward message asking how coaches prepare for training camp. She replies warmly, joking about meetings and betting on how many players will puke. They banter about Halo versus Mario Party. Then Grant gets an idea. He finds the leather notebook Coach gave them for goal setting, its pages empty, and begins to write. Coffee order, croissants, meatball sub from Pete's Café, her birthday, her favorite color red, her nephew, Wisconsin, sweet tea, white wine, chocolate cake. Everything she's told him in passing. He closes the notebook, messages her good night, and promises to see her in November. If the only thing he can be is Amelia's friend, he's going to be the best damn friend in the world.

Women in Sports Day

Amelia is in Washington DC for a Women in Sports event organized by the Sea Crabs, recruited by her friend Emmy. Backstage, Emmy confides that her team is great but she has a gut feeling about her coach, an instinct that tells her to be careful. Amelia suggests making an anonymous report to the NHLPA. Emmy is relieved at the idea. Then it's time for Amelia to take the stage.

She stands in her lucky red blazer and black heels, nervous in front of the crowd, and delivers a speech about her career, the role models who paved the way, the frustrating falsehoods said about her, and the fear of being seen as an emotional wreck if she corrects anyone. She talks about working harder than her male counterparts, about the good men in the sport who speak up when women aren't in the room, and about the need for women to uplift each other. "There's room for all of us at the table," she tells them, "and I will always keep a place set for you." The applause is warm and genuine. Emmy invites her to dinner that night with Piper and Lexi.

Amelia hesitates. New people, an unfamiliar apartment, the anxiety of early-stage friendship. But she brings wine and knocks. Emmy welcomes her in, and Amelia meets Piper Mitchell, rinkside reporter for the DC Stars, and Lexi Armstrong, the Stars' athletic trainer. Lexi is still mad Grant never introduced them. Emmy jokes that Grant can't even rent a car yet. The conversation moves to life in the league: Emmy's engagement to Maverick Miller and how they keep their professional and personal lives separate, Piper's divorce and her cautious step back into dating, Lexi's preference for physical relationships without strings. Piper teasingly mentions that Riley and Grant try so hard to be seen by Lexi, and Amelia's stomach twists at the thought of Grant with Lexi. She washes the feeling away by chugging her wine.

The night settles into something warm and easy. Lexi invites Amelia to Pilates when she's back in town, Piper talks about learning sign language to make broadcasts accessible to Deaf viewers. Amelia feels content in a way she's only ever felt with Sienna and Lainey. She leaves with hugs all around, promising not to be a stranger.

Walking to her hotel in the warm September evening, her phone vibrates with an Instagram message from Grant. He saw a clip of her speech and tells her she was so good. She smiles, full and genuine, and replies that it was a success. He asks when she heads home. She tells him she'll see him in November. His reply: "Counting down the minutes as always, Coach Green."

Amelia Green messages Grant Everett asking if he will be in town in November, and he replies that he is counting down the minutes as always, Coach Green. A whisper of delight stirs inside her, sharp and unmistakable, and she hates how easily it appears. She tells herself she is not excited to see him. She cannot wait to kick his ass. By the time she reaches her hotel, she has almost convinced herself that is true.

The Team Chat

It is November, five seasons ago. Grant’s team chat, once called Puck Kings, has been renamed RIP Dave’s Dogs, and Sully complains about the long name. Easy E is mourning the loss of the arena hot dog stand and announces he has talked to workers about staging a protest outside the food and beverage offices. Mitchy wishes he cared about anything that much, and Huddy assures him he does not. Mavvy reminds everyone about team dinner tomorrow and warns the guys not to give away any secrets because Emmy will be there. Easy E jokes that Grant probably tells Emmy all the plays while in bed with her. Grant warns Easy E that Cap is going to kick his ass. Sully leaves the chat, Mitchy adds him back, and the argument keeps going.

Grant also reaches out to Amelia directly on social media. He has something to tell her, but he asks her to promise not to judge him. She confesses she cannot wait to land in DC tomorrow night and go to Pete’s Café the second it opens for lunch on Wednesday, and she blames him for the addiction. Grant says he will never apologize for bringing goodness into her life and offers his company. She says yes, because she is going to make him pay. He says his credit card is ready. Then he brings up a football player whose social media was hacked, with all his private DMs and conversations leaked, and suggests they move to texting for an extra layer of security. Amelia agrees, insisting it is just for peace of mind. Grant says he will text her when he is ready to go on Wednesday.

Team Dinner

Grant shows up to team dinner at Maverick and Emmy’s apartment with steamed broccoli because his restaurant order got messed up and he hates confrontation. Hudson teases him, and Grant admits he would probably stare at a hostess and growl “broccoli” instead of complaining. Then Grant spots Liam sitting at the dining room table and smiling. He panics, sure Liam is dying. Piper assures him it is the garlic bread Riley brought, because Liam loves carbs. Grant relaxes and works the room, high-fiving teammates and ignoring Ethan’s handmade protest poster about the arena hot dog stand.

When he settles beside Connor, he checks his phone. A message from an unknown number waits for him: turbulence makes her want to cry, and she identifies herself as Amelia Green. Grant saves her contact as AG. They text about her scary flight, and then Grant pulls out his notebook and writes down that she does not like turbulence but is otherwise okay with flying. Connor asks what he is doing, and Grant lies, saying he is tracking personal data, food, and sleep because he really wants to make the first line. Connor believes in him.

Amelia texts again: she is in DC, does 11 work for tomorrow, and she needs to head to the arena around 3:30. Grant realizes Pete’s is about three miles from her hotel, which is a cold walk, so he offers to give her a ride. She accepts. He says he will text when he is around the corner.

During a game of Halo, Amelia’s next message makes him hide in the cave to read it. She has reached pathetic status and cannot think about anything but that sandwich. He promises to make it worth her while. She tells him not to be late, she has waited months. He promises to be right on time. Then she says she is not afraid to use her coaching influence on him if he is late. Desire rips through him at the thought of her bossing him around. He rejoins his friends, but his mind is not on the game. His crush on Amelia is about to reach a breaking point, and he decides he might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Pete’s Café

The next day, Grant texts Amelia that there is

Part 4 - Chapters 20 to 25

Part 4 - Chapters 20 to 25

On a crowded Las Vegas sidewalk, a very drunk Grant Emerson shouts that he loves his life: Maverick and Emmy are eloping, Liam just broke the record for most saves in a game, and the night is theirs. Riley pries the fruity drink from Grant's hand and drops it in the trash. Ethan slurs something about one of his favorite positions in bed and asks if Grant has tried it. Grant, already planning to watch The Muppet's Christmas Carol with Riley back at the hotel, is simply happy. Maverick points to the wedding chapel ahead. Liam grumbles that he still doesn't understand why the whole team had to come along; Maverick, as captain, says what he says goes, and reminds Liam they're also celebrating him. Piper declares Liam is staying. Grant, probably too drunk, photographs Piper trying to pick Liam up, wanting to document this exact feeling: being with his best friends when life is good.

His phone holds a text from Amelia, a video of a puppy that reminded her of him. Ethan jumps on his back, demanding to know who AG is, and Grant deflects, calling her a friend. When Ethan teases him for having friends outside the team, Grant turns away from the group and writes back. Amelia immediately clocks that he's drunk and wants to know what shit-faced Grant is like. Their easy teasing shifts into something more serious when she tells him she isn't sure she believes in marriage for herself. Not because she doesn't believe in it, but because she's "too selfish." Her career is her priority, she says; she's afraid that if she found someone she wanted to spend her life with, she'd have to compromise, and she doesn't want to. Grant slurs that she's the least selfish person he's ever met. She calls him a feminist, blames toxic hockey culture, and says he's funny when he's drunk.

Hudson finds Grant in the affectionate stage of intoxication and asks if he's okay. Grant pulls him aside and confesses a secret: he doesn't understand why blond guys get such a bad rap, and he thinks Hudson is great. Then he asks the real question, whether Hudson has ever had a crush on someone he's not supposed to. Hudson hasn't had a crush on anyone in a while. Grant admits he has one, a big one: she's perfect, and she will always see him as just a friend. Hudson tells him that always is a long time, and you never know what could happen. Grant sends Hudson off for another beer, pulls out the leather notebook he now carries everywhere, and writes a messy, drunken note: "Not sure abt marige :( Says she's slfish, but shz not!!! Independent = hot!!!"

Instead of texting her back, he FaceTimes Amelia. She answers on the second ring; he grins at her face, blonde hair braided, no makeup, a big sweatshirt, and thinks she's so pretty. She laughs at how wasted he is. He tells her it's a good drunk, for good things. She mentions she hasn't been that drunk since winning the Frozen Four her senior year of college; he offers to get drunk with her sometime and keep her safe, because that's what friends do. She agrees. She asks if he's playing a role in the wedding; he's only a witness, and they'll have a second ceremony later so Emmy's dad and Maverick's friends in DC can be there. When she asks if he wants to get married, he says yes, he wants ten kids and a big backyard with swing sets, but not for a while: he has Stanley Cups to win first. Liam summons him for a human pyramid, and Grant has to go. "Bye, Lia," he slurs, "Miss you already." She ends the call with a smile he holds on to for the rest of the night.

Five in the morning

Amelia isn't surprised when her phone rings again, and she's already smiling when she picks up. It's five in the morning. Grant is in an elevator at his hotel, trying to stay quiet: Coach is on the same floor and can't know he's coming in hours after curfew. "Love is keeping me going," he says. He's drunk, and he launches into a rant about how professional sports leagues suck. He was raised to believe there's no crying in hockey, that men can't show emotion, but tonight he was with his best friends and he was so happy. So what if he cried a little? So what if he told them he loved them? Life is short. "I'm sensitive and soft, and this world sucks a lot of the time," he declares. Amelia tells him that's a gift, that men should be allowed to tell their friends they love them. "I knew you'd understand." She'd lain awake after their first call, afraid he'd pass out or choke or fall off a curb and end his season; now, hearing his voice, she finally relaxes.

He stumbles down the hall, slips into his room, and keeps her on the line. He has his own room tonight. When he asks if she has a lot of friends, she tells him she keeps her circle small, that she's protective and intense and competitive, and it gets mistaken for bitchiness, so she keeps walls up. Grant pushes back hard: she's hardworking, beautiful, smart, definitely not bitchy; fuck anyone who thinks that. Her heart flutters. She hasn't been called something so kind in years. He warns her he's taking off his pants and positions the phone so he won't flash her. She hears the zipper, the denim hitting the floor, water running, the low hum of him singing. When he returns, he's in a white T-shirt, athletic shorts, and glasses, proud that he remembered to take out his contacts. They talk about her family: two older sisters, one a middle school science teacher with two kids, one a cancer researcher. Amelia jokes that she's the underachiever who chose Communications and college hockey. Grant tells her knowing her strengths isn't underachieving. She admits she wasn't part of her parents' plan, that she lived in her sisters' shadows and tries so hard because she wants to make a name for herself, like she wasn't good enough on her own. He frowns; he doesn't like her talking that way. "You definitely are [important]. To me, at least." She whispers that he's too nice to her and she isn't sure she deserves it. He says maybe that's why they ran into each other at that Italian restaurant three years ago, so he could be the one to remind her. She says yes, that would be okay. He's exhausted, and they say goodnight. When she hangs up, she realizes she really is looking forward to his text.

By mid-afternoon, she needs a break from game film and texts him first. He answers immediately: like someone is taking a baseball bat to his head, stomach, and back. He thanks her for the room service she sent, apologizes for bothering her all night, and worries he acted like an idiot. She assures him he didn't. He says he knows he can be a lot, too goofy, too talkative. She tells him she appreciates him. After a long pause, his final message comes through: "I remember everything with you, and I meant everything I said." Her skin burns hot. She sets the phone down and scoots it away, a live wire she doesn't want to touch. When Jude appears in her office door to ask about line switches, she follows him, telling herself that her job, the career she's sacrificed for, is the most important part of her life. Nice words from hockey players come and go; her legacy is forever. Being vulnerable with Grant was a mistake, and she won't make it again.

Text messages

The texts between them keep coming. Liam lost the wedding ring he keeps tied to his skate, and the team had to help find it. Grant learns, and passes on to Amelia, that on the same wild Vegas night Maverick and Emmy eloped, Liam and Piper also got married, fueled by too much alcohol but clearly in love: Liam is smiling nonstop, which is rare for him. Grant's money is on Hudson being the next romantic, because Hudson is the biggest romantic Grant has ever met. Grant mentions he's going back to the Italian place where they first met the next week; they have the best ranch for dipping spaghetti. When Amelia teases him, he explains the long West Coast swing has worn everyone down. By the end of the exchange, they've landed on a plan to meet at the Italian place, with Amelia offering to keep him company.

Denver

By March, Grant is on the team plane to Denver, annoyingly chipper. Ethan is miserable after nine days on the road, the hot dogs have all been average, and the hotels have been too small for livestreams. Ethan immediately suspects Grant is meeting someone in Denver. Maverick wants in on the gossip, but Grant deflects by turning on Liam, who is smiling all the time; Liam mumbles "Piper." Grant texts Amelia: "On the plane to Denver. Can't wait to kick your ass tomorrow." She reminds him their team has the better record. He asks if she still wants dinner; she says she'll see him at seven. He pumps his fist, glad his teammates are asleep. He knows this isn't nothing: their hangouts have shifted from accidental run-ins to planned meet