Part of me wished she would slap the hell out of me, needing her to. Another part of me hoped she’d wrap her arms around me, thanking God she wasn’t falling for the same man who’d broken her heart years ago.

Either way, I wasn’t losing her.

My chest ached as fear settled in me. “Please don’t hate me after tonight, Harp.”

I got in uniform and lined up with my team to walk through the tunnel after a quick huddle Simon led.

It was going to be a great game. We had an amazing strategy. I was starting, then break second period and come back strong with some of our best for third.

“Rookie, let’s talk after the game, alright?” Simon said.

“I’m no Rookie.”

“You will be next season. Now let’s go fix what your brother broke.” He fist-bumped me but I didn’t appreciate the insult toward my brother. Troy was no saint, but he didn’t deserve the shit talk from his own team.

My face lit the moment I saw her in the stands. She noticed me instantly and smiled back with a small wave.

We’re working this out tonight, baby. Even if you walk out on me.

She shot me two thumbs up but looked about as nervous as I was. I lined up for the puck drop, determined to keep my focus. I had two goals tonight.

Win this game. Win the girl.

“What the hell was twenty-three doing out there?” I panted, as Ryan and I trodded down the tunnel toward the locker room, sweating.

“Hey, are you coming to Coach’s party tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve got too much going on at work, and if things go well tonight, I’ll have other plans.”

Simon punched my arm. “No time for dating, huh? See what being a pro player gets you?”

“She’s not like that.” Harper wasn’t superficial. She was sincere, honest, innocent. And I immediately kicked myself again for saying I didn’t know her well enough for her to have any effect on me.

I’m in love with her.

Most of the other players were playing in second period while the three of us walked to the lockers for a breather and talk strategy for third.

Ryan stopped short the second he walked in the room. Simon and I behind him.

Troy was sitting by my locker, sliding on a clean, spare uniform.

“Troy?”

“What’s the matter, you don’t recognize your double?” he glanced up.

Simon, a smidgeon bigger than me, stepped around, intimidatingly toward Troy. “You weren’t due back until practice this weekend.”

Troy finished tying up his laces and stood. “Last I checked, I was the real Troy Hartman, and if you’ll excuse me...”