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That’s what I was looking for” the occasional times she’d landed a jump in front of her trainer.
    She took a slow breath. “The thing that happened tonight … my cast mates kind of resent me for getting the lead. They think my name is all the audience cares about. My skates went missing right before the show. I had to use someone else’s, and they were new and too small. It wasn’t a coincidence.”
    “Are you serious? Can you tell someone about this?”
    “I don’t want to make it a bigger deal than it is. They already hate me. They think I took the job as another way to gain popularity, and that I took away their chance to make names for themselves. I’ll admit, it’s good for my career to keep my name out there, but I did it to cover expenses while I’m training for the next games. And because I have free use of the rink when I can squeeze the time in. I lost a few sponsors when I broke my ankle last year.”
    “Did you try telling them that?”
    “They don’t believe me. They think I’m too old to make another Olympic run. They also think I’m a glory hog.”
    “Okay, you’re not too old, and you’re not a glory hog. For one thing, you’re not shy about your contempt for the show.” His grin roused one from her too. “And I’m pretty good at reading people. I think you’re just doing what you have to do to reach your goal. I get that.”
    “You really do, don’t you?” She took a long drink of the still-delicious ice cream soup. “This is nice. Having someone to talk to.”
    “So you might go out with me again?”
    “I’d like that.” More than she’d like to admit.

Chapter Five
    Saturday, September 26th
    “You know, they’re all here for you.” Shane Reese, the Sinners’ starting goaltender lowered himself in full gear onto the bench next to Dylan.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Arena’s sold out. For a preseason game. Locals have finally realized they have the NHL’s number one superstar in their backyard.”
    “Whatever, man. Maybe it’s that we won two Stanley Cups in three years.”
    “And you don’t think you had anything to do with that? Cole, don’t you have a single proud bone in your body?”
    Cole grinned and opened his mouth, but Reese waved a big, gloved hand.
    “Don’t say it. Too easy. My point is the rest of us are glad you’re here, keeping us in Vegas.”
    “Dude, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to hide the chocolate-covered gummy bears during the first period break.” It was a serious threat. The goalie had adopted the superstition from his wife, who had played college soccer and gotten hooked on the mid-game sweets. She’d hooked him, too, and now it was their goalie’s most important ritual. Ben Collier had eaten them all once, and it had nearly come to blows.
    Reese laughed and pushed to his feet, apparently fulfilling his tormenting quotient for the night. He bopped Dylan on top of the head then waddled toward the tunnel leading to the ice.
    Dylan finished taping the blade of his stick then took his spot opposite Nealy, flanking the tunnel. His teammates passed by, and he clapped each one on the back and mumbled an encouragement like always, but he couldn’t shake Reese’s comments. For the better part of his career, he’d loved the spotlight, the chance to show what he could do, what he’d always been able to do. He’d raked in trophies at the NHL awards season after season. Had two Cups to his name at age twenty-three. It was one thing to have fans who admired his skill. It was something else if your team thought you were the only reason they won games and had a packed arena.
    “Cole. You okay, kid?” Nealy snapped tiny fingers in front of his face.
    He blinked and nodded. “Fine, Coach.” There was no other answer, ever. No other option.
    “Good. Get out there and show ’em your stuff.”
    Not her, too. He trailed Simkins, the backup goalie, and was the last to hit the ice. The screams were almost deafening. A fan reaction like