Chapter 3

Alexandria

I pulled my hoodie tighter around me as Gabi and I settled into the stands, the chill of the rink creeping through the metal seats. Below, the ice was a clean, untouched sheet, waiting for the Sharks to tear it up. The team was filtering onto the ice, a mix of easy banter and sharp focus as they prepared for practice.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" Gabi asked, crossing her arms. She had her legs stretched out, sneakers propped up on the seat in front of her. "I could be at home, stress-watching Grey's Anatomy instead of voluntarily sitting in a freezer."

"Because Will guilt-tripped us," I said, pulling out my phone to check the time. "Something about 'moral support' and 'if you don't show up, you're a fake friend.' You know how he gets."

Gabi sighed dramatically. "That sounds like him."

Below, the team gathered around their coach, nodding as they got their instructions. Then, the warm-up started, laps around the rink. As the players passed by, Will, ever the showman, executed the most exaggerated, dramatic slow-motion skate in front of us, arms pumping like he was in some kind of Olympic montage.

I didn't even hesitate. Standing, I clapped slowly and called out, "Wow, Will. Such grace. Such power. The ice... it fears you."

Gabi joined in, putting a hand over her heart. "I think I just witnessed history."

Will skidded to a stop, grinning up at us. "I hate you both."

"We know," I shot back, dropping back into my seat with a satisfied smirk.

As the team continued their laps, another player skated by, one I immediately recognized, though I'd never seen him in person before. Macklin Celebrini. I'd seen photos, obviously, but photos didn't quite do justice to the way he carried himself on the ice. He moved effortlessly, blending power and precision like it was second nature.

Huh. He's cuter in person.

I blinked at my own thought and immediately shook it off. Nope. Not doing this. I am not here to develop a crush on some hockey player I don't even know. Nursing school is already wrecking my schedule—there is no room for distractions.

We watched the rest of practice, which mostly consisted of drills, passing sequences, and the occasional shove between teammates that was more playful than anything. By the time it wrapped up, the players started making their way off the ice, and Gabi and I headed down toward where we usually met Will.

As we reached the doors where the team would come out, I reached for the handle at the same time someone pushed it open from the other side.

The collision was instant. The door swung outward, knocking lightly against my arm, and a moment later, a very solid, very tall hockey player was directly in front of me.

A cold splash hit my sleeve—just a few drops, but enough to startle me. I looked up to see none other than Macklin Celebrini, his water bottle in one hand, a sheepish smile forming on his face.

"Oh—sorry," I said quickly, stepping back.

"Don't worry about it," Macklin said, completely unbothered, adjusting his grip on the bottle. "I should've looked first."

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Will's voice cut in from behind.

"Lex! You already causing problems?"

I turned to see Will approaching, grinning as he pulled off his gloves.

"Yes, Will, I woke up today and said, 'I think I'll commit minor inconveniences at the Shark Tank.'"

Will laughed, then gestured toward Macklin. "Lex, this is Macklin, Mack, this is Lex. She's my best friend, but basically my sister, so don't let her fool you. She's cool, but she'll roast you if you give her the chance."

I smirked. "No promises."

Macklin chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Gabi, who had been watching with amusement, nudged me. "I like this one. He can take a hit."

Macklin raised a brow. "Are you talking about the water spill or the sarcasm?"

"Both," Gabi answered without hesitation.

Will clapped Macklin on the shoulder. "Come on, we're getting food. And since we're the new guys in the area, the other guys have been showing us insanely good food spots. Lex and Gabi can judge our choices."

I pretended to consider. "Hmm. I do enjoy being a food critic."

"You really do," Will muttered. "When we were kids, I tried to make you cookies, and you tried to keep your composure, but it was so salty you gave in and gagged as a result."

Macklin grinned, chuckling at the story. "No pressure, then."

As we all walked out together, I stole another quick glance at Macklin.

First impressions? Not bad. Not bad at all.

——

"Alright, let's eat," Will announced, throwing the car into park.

The four of them climbed out, stretching from the ride. The place they'd ended up at was a popular Vietnamese spot—not one of those overly aesthetic, Instagram-obsessed places, but the kind where the food spoke for itself. The sign was a little faded, the windows slightly fogged from the steam rolling out of the kitchen, and the smell of fresh herbs, simmering broth, and grilled meats immediately hit them as they stepped inside.

"This place is legit," Gabi said, looking around approvingly.

"We try to impress," Will said, shoving the door open.

The place was packed, but a couple of tables had opened up just as we arrived. We slid into a booth near the window, the laminated menus slightly worn from years of use.

"I already know I'm getting beef noodle soup," I said, flipping the menu over out of habit but not actually reading it. "It's cold, I need something that feels like a hug."

"Respect," Macklin nodded. "I think I'm going for a barbecue plate. Something hearty."

Will leaned back. "I'll have what Mack's having."

"Copycat," I teased.

Gabi sipped her drink. "I want an avocado smoothie. Trust me, it's life-changing."

"Never had one," Macklin admitted.

I gasped dramatically. "Oh, that's changing tonight. No choice. You're getting one."

"Wow, peer pressure at its finest," he said, shaking his head but grinning.

Once we put our orders in, the conversation naturally drifted toward music.

"So, Lex," Macklin started, leaning forward a bit, genuinely interested, "what kind of music do you listen to?"

I raised an eyebrow, a little surprised by how polite and attentive he was. "A lot of everything, actually. I'm a sucker for SZA, but I also listen to indie stuff like Peach Tree Rascals. There's even some 2000s pop in there."

"Peach Tree Rascals, huh?" he said, nodding thoughtfully. "That's cool. I can't say I know them, but I like that kind of laid-back sound."

"I'm telling you, they deserve more recognition," I said, defending my choice with a grin.

Macklin smiled warmly. "Nah, it's cool how you like a lot of different artists. I think that's what makes music interesting—it's all about the mood, right?"

"Exactly," I replied. "You can't trust people who only listen to one genre. Keeps things interesting."

Gabi, who had been quietly sipping her drink, chimed in, "Macklin's right. Music is all about the vibe."

Macklin grinned at Will's comment but didn't skip a beat. "So, I'm curious, you like a lot of hip-hop and rap, right, Will?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "I mean, yeah. A lot of classic stuff, but also some newer artists too."

Macklin nodded. "I'm into the same. I think the beats are what get me, but honestly, if it's got a good flow, I don't care what genre it is."

"You guys sound like you could start your own DJ group," I teased.

"Maybe we should try it," Macklin joked.

The conversation shifted as our food arrived, the table now filled with steaming bowls of soup, grilled meats, and crispy spring rolls. Everyone dug in, the rich flavors of the broth and grilled meats filling the air.

I took a bite of my beef noodle soup and immediately sighed with satisfaction. "This place is so good. Seriously, every bite is like a hug from the inside."

Macklin smiled, taking a bite of his barbecue plate. "Yeah, I can see why this place is popular."

Gabi, who had already demolished a spring roll, nodded enthusiastically. "Definitely. It's the perfect kind of comfort food."

As we ate, Macklin leaned in a little, clearly enjoying the relaxed vibe of the group. "Okay, so you guys have to hear this one story. A couple of weeks ago, we had an off day, right? And Will—"

"Here we go," Will groaned.

Macklin chuckled. "So, we're at the basketball court, just messing around. Will's feeling all confident, thinking he can actually shoot some hoops."

"I am good at basketball," Will interrupted, but Macklin just waved it off.

"Sure, sure," Macklin continued, still playful but not mean-spirited. "But I did let him win a game of 21. And by 'let,' I mean, I missed a shot on purpose."

"You didn't miss on purpose," Will said, shaking his head. "You just missed."

"Exactly," Macklin said, laughing. "But, honestly, Will's pretty good at everything else. I think basketball was just a one-off."

I grinned. "I'm honestly surprised. I thought you'd be better at basketball, Will."

"You and everyone else," Will muttered under his breath.

Macklin added, "I mean, you're still solid—just that day in particular... I had to give him a little encouragement though."

Gabi, who had been quietly listening, added, "Well, you guys clearly have a good time together. Do you guys hang out a lot?"

Macklin nodded. "We've been through a lot of training and off-days together. We're always hanging out outside of practice, honestly."

As we finished our meals, I couldn't help but notice how comfortable Macklin was in the group. He wasn't over-the-top or trying too hard. He was just himself, easy to talk to, and genuinely kind.

By the time the bill came, we were all joking and laughing, the food long gone but the conversation still flowing. And I realized that, yeah, Macklin Celebrini was just as cool as Will had promised. No drama, no pretension—just a good guy, enjoying life, and fitting in perfectly with our crew.