Hot on Ice: A Hockey Romance Anthology

by Avery Flynn

  “So she’s happy? Things are finally working out with her mom?”

  “Seems so. They’re friendly to each other in public, it seems.”

  Coop should be happy for her. After all this time, and after all the sacrifices made for that very end, he couldn’t help but feel worse. The better it went for them, the worse his chances were of getting her back.

  Josh clapped him on the shoulder, frowning. “Maybe… Maybe it’s time to think about moving on.”

  “You forget I’ve tried that once. Look how well that turned out.”

  The final notes resonated between West’s keyboard and Savannah’s guitar, his smile widening. His eyes glimmered across her living room to where she sat. “These new songs are fantastic.”

  “I’ve been inspired.”

  Savannah hadn’t felt emotion that raw for three years. Instead of directing everything toward Cooper and her broken heart, she turned inside herself. Found the words to help any girl listening to realize they’re strong enough all on their own.

  “Momma loves them,” she added with a grin and shrug.

  “And your dad?”

  “Daddy… He hasn’t been speaking with me, really. Too angry about Momma.”

  “He blames you for the divorce.”

  She gave a noncommittal nod to his statement, though she knew it to be true as much as he. That was why she was meeting her daddy for supper later. To air out their issues, and hopefully move past them. Right, wrong, or indifferent, he’d been the one she’d counted on her whole life. It mattered that he cared enough to arrange dates with ridiculous men. It mattered that he was a thorn in her professional life. It mattered to her that they could be father and daughter again.

  West let her wallow in her thoughts for all of sixty seconds. "Moving on. This is not the time for depressing conversations." He dug into his bag and pulled out a large envelope. He came around to sit on the coffee table in front of her, dark eyes alight for a new reason she couldn't fathom. "I have something to tell you. It's huge, and I've been sitting on it while waiting for everything to settle down. And now with these new songs…"

  She was getting an excitement high just being near him. “Spit it out.”

  “We have an agent.”

  Four words were all it took to drop kick her into an alternate reality. And they spoke a different language there, apparently. One where all dreams were reality and mundane jobs were a thing of the past.

  “Well, we will,” he continued. “Once you sign this contract.”

  “How?” she gushed. “This is huge!”

  West went on to explain how he'd taken her break to put together a few of their songs and shopped them around. The response was positive all around, but one, in particular, stood out to them.

  “Remember that song you finished the day before you left?”

  She remembered. She'd written it the day before Cooper took the Cup to the cemetery. A love song that took on a life of its own when she put all she'd been feeling into the lyrics.

  “That’s the one that got us in the door,” he said. “She’s going to shop it first.”

  Savannah flew across the space and hugged West, her mind spinning. “This can’t be real.”

  “It’s real.” He showed her the contract, which a lawyer had told him was pretty standard. “All you have to do is sign.”

  She fumbled around, patting her pockets, searching the table and even the couch beside her. She wanted a pen and was half aware of the fact that she didn't have one close by, but couldn't break out of her excitement.

  West held out a pen. “Need this?”

  While he waited for her to sign, he said, “It’s a great song. Very romantic.”

  Innocent as the sentence was, she sensed him probing.

  Savannah quit signing and sat up to look at her best friend. “Something you want to ask me?”

  “It’s about Cooper, isn’t it?”

  She bit her lower lip and lowered her gaze. “So? Does it matter?”

  “You miss him?”

  She stared down at the partially signed contract. “Every day. But I’ll get over it, right?”

  They met each other's eyes, and West sank toward her. Wrapped her clasped hands in his large, hot palms. "I can't believe I'm going to ask this because I still don't think he deserves you, but… Will you get over him? Honestly?"

  Her first thought: no. Her second thought: she hoped so. And finally: she had to, right? "It doesn't matter. I made the right choice. Momma's getting better every day. Our relationship is the strongest it's ever been. I'm truly happy."

  “At the expense of a romantic future with Cooper Banks. He’s an idiot, but for some reason I can’t fathom, he’s gotten so far under your skin he’s beginning to rot. The man is a splinter in need of surgical removal.”

  No amount of surgery would ever work in this case. The best she could do at this point was move on. Sign that contract, and sell her music. Other than that, she needed to focus her efforts on mending the relationship with her parents.

  But try as she might, she still found herself at her daddy’s doorstep that evening in a funk. Instead of feeling hopeful and excited for her future, and prepared to set things right with her father, Cooper sat heavily on her mind. West was right; Cooper Banks was a sliver in her life making everything much too hard.

  Savannah pushed the doorbell on automatic, and it wasn’t until William answered the door himself that the nerves over their dinner stuck. A line of prickling heat erupted near her hairline.

  “Hi Daddy. Where’s Kirk?”

  “I gave him the night off.”

  That wasn't like him. Not when there were plans for a meal. "Well, I hope you didn't decide to cook too. Otherwise, we're in a heap of trouble."

  He gave her a wry smile as he moved aside to allow her in. “I’m capable of managing take-out.”

  It was so informal. So unlike him. Sure there were times he’d settled for dinner out of the house, but take-out? For a moment she wondered if this was a sign of how little their evening mattered to him. In the past, he’d have the cook make her favorite dish; at least the dish he assumed to be her favorite: brown sugar ham with an apple jus.

  William showed her into the dining room, then proceeded to lead them into the kitchen itself. He’d set up plates and barstools at the stainless steel island. “You’ve mentioned that Italian place around the corner from your apartment a few times. Thought it was time I gave it a try.”

  Savannah stopped and stared at everything. “Daddy, what’s going on? You never eat in here. And take-out? You hate take-out. It’ll be cold.”

  He sighed. “I’m trying here, Savannah.”

  She suddenly realized what was going on. He’d made concessions for her. She was right in thinking he was putting a value on their night, except it wasn’t in the way she’d thought.

  “Daddy.”

  Looking mildly uncomfortable, he gave a half-smile and moved toward a set of empty wine glasses. “Chianti?”

  Nodding, she went through the motions of warming the oven and unpacking the plastic sacks with a familiar logo. In the years since discovering the small family-owned restaurant, she’d become pretty adept at this part. Once two plates were arranged, she carefully set them on the oven rack to heat.

  William watched her with interest. “Why is it that I never realized how self-sufficient you are?”

  “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  He didn’t, and neither did she. The truth would only hurt him, and the talk they needed to have would be hard enough.

  Savannah took the glass he offered and sat. “I got some amazing news today.” She waited for him to sit and give her his full attention. “West and I signed with an agent. And she thinks she might have a home for one of our songs already.”

  To his credit, he didn’t once show an ounce of doubt or fear. He listened intently to everything she said, interrupting only after trying the Pollo Rosa Maria, which consisted of a genuine compliment
to the dish.

  Once she completed the retelling and answered all his questions to the best of her knowledge, he kissed her on the cheek.

  “I’m so proud of you,” he said.

  She drooped a little, relieved and thrilled, but also expecting a shoe to drop. “Are you?”

  His smile was sad. “I’ve always been proud of you, Savannah. Immensely so. I’m most especially proud of what you did for your mother.”

  Savannah popped upright, speechless.

  William poked at the remains of his chicken with a fork, beginning to frown for the first time. “I had to do a lot of soul searching after I got the divorce papers, and I admit I was angry at you, but I now realize my error.” He looked into her eyes. “If you hold too tightly to something, it’ll slip through your fingers. So I’m finished interfering in your life. I can’t lose you too.”

  Tears pricked hot at her eyes as she rose to hug him. His arms tightened around her to the point she felt his heart drumming as much as hers.

  “I love you so much, Daddy.”

  “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  She laughed. “I forgave you an hour ago at the sight of Italian take-out.”

  12

  Watching Saul buzz around the studio warmed Cooper’s heart. It seemed that Coop’s agreement to do the in-depth hour long interview was everything his agent had dreamed. The national sports network planned to air it during week one of the regular season.

  Saul moved forward and back robotically as the makeup artist added the powder to Coop's skin, going over the questions while she silently circled the chair.

  “Opening is light,” he said. “Talk about Homes for our Troops, how much you enjoy working with them, etcetera etcetera…”

  “I could use the whole hour on that.”

  Saul barely glanced up. “You’re not funny. You get ten minutes. Tops. For that and the Dove Harbor ice rink. Then move on to childhood anecdotes. Talk about that surly brother of yours, then lead into how your mom left you boys with your dad. What it was like being raised by a single father. How much he supported your dream. College…his death coinciding with the beginning of your career…”

  “What about Savannah?”

  The agent gave a silent wince. "No one's interested in the failed romance anymore. Stick to the family drama that kept you away from home for three years."

  “You mean the decision that had everything to do with Savannah?”

  The men stared at each other so long and hard that the makeup artist excused herself in order to escape.

  “What is it about this girl?” Saul asked. Hissed, actually.

  Cooper tore the tissue away from his collar and stood. “She’s the love of my life.”

  “So?”

  “So there’s no talking about my past without mentioning her in it. There’s some stuff about Josh rolling around my memory, and moments with Dad that I love, but when I think about my life in broad terms…it’s Savannah Jane. She’s always there. She was the one supporting me from day one.”

  “You know she declined the interview for this.”

  He refused to read into that. He knew how she felt about him. “Doesn’t matter.”

  Saul went from red to pink to his normal shade over the course of the next thirty seconds. “Fine. Light mentions. Focus on the dad.”

  The dad. As if Andrew Banks had been a cardboard cutout in his life.

  Someone near the set called out the time that gave Saul two more minutes to prepare Cooper. He didn't need any further prepping. He knew the story he wanted to tell. And he knew Saul well enough to know that if all went according to plan, he'd just simply shift gears and ride the wave.

  Try as she might, Savannah couldn’t ignore the date. That and the entire town had been buzzing over Cooper’s interview airing. He’d managed to change a lot of opinions with the new ice rink and scholarship fund. She was so proud of him she could burst.

  Savannah thought going to her mother’s would distract her, but the moment Helena disappeared into the kitchen of her little cottage with a goal of preparing a meal for them, Savannah found herself powering on the television. Entering the numbers for the network she wanted without need of a channel guide.

  She was immediately swept into the montage in-progress, recognizing overhead shots of their town. She’d missed a lot of the beginning—I shouldn’t be watching this—and the interview was well into Cooper’s life growing up in Georgia.

  The voiceover, a woman with a strong journalistic flare, retold parts of his childhood as if she'd had firsthand knowledge, with old photos shuffling as a backdrop. She paused only for brief interviews with people she saw almost every day. His early coaches. Teachers. A couple of friends they hadn't had much contact with after sixth grade, then a couple more who'd only been around during high school. All acting as if they still held some importance in Cooper's life.

  It annoyed her, and for the first time, she kicked herself for declining the interview. She was the only person in this town who could honestly say they'd been Cooper's friend from start to finish. Her history was more than anecdotal nonsense to fill an hour's worth of space.

  Her mood quickly turned around when Josh appeared, proudly recounting some of Cooper's earliest mishaps on the ice. Breaking bones—his and teammates—or practicing in the house.

  The focus then turned serious. Scouts. College. Pictures of Cooper having in-your-face talks with coaches. Still and live footage of game highlights. Wins he’d been credited for. All leading to Andrew’s cancer announcement.

  “Dad sat on the news for a couple of weeks,” Josh told the camera. “I remember he walked around with his phone for hours before collapsing into a chair to call Cooper. Hardest conversation of his life.”

  Savannah recalled Cooper’s call to her following that one. She’d never heard him cry like that. In fact, he’d very nearly quit everything he’d been working for that very night. By then he’d already gotten an agent who had already had inquiries from a small handful of professional teams. But Andrew’s pancreatic cancer would move swiftly, and Cooper had wanted to spend all the time there was left at home.

  In the end, it had been Andrew who talked Cooper into seeing his obligations through.

  Coming out of the memories, she realized the show had moved on as if following her very own thoughts. And suddenly, unexpectedly, Cooper appeared. Dark navy suit, white shirt, no tie. Collar spread to show a hint of what she knew to be an impeccably chiseled chest. Hair in an artful disarray. More handsome than she was prepared for.

  Cooper reclined into the corner of a high-backed chair, elbow on the rest. “It was the worst four months of my life. So many good things were happening, things I had worked my whole life toward, but back home, my world was crashing. I’m not sure I’d have gotten through it without Savannah Jane.”

  She blinked rapidly as a new montage began with the woman giving further backstory to her past with Cooper, complete with pictures that were both funny and serious. They'd always looked so damn good together, hadn't they? Like a complete set from the very beginning.

  "During the week before his death," Cooper said, frown deepening, "to the weeks after, it was just misunderstanding after misunderstanding. No one was talking to each other, and those that were talked too much. I was in this devastating fog, just trying to prepare myself for the loss of my dad as well as my first professional game. One he begged me to play. And during all this, I somehow managed to give up the love of my life."

  Cooper opened his palm to a diamond ring. The camera panned in on a what must have been three carats. “I never proposed, even though I’d been planning it for over a year. I wanted to do it after my first game. But it was all too much. I walked away from everything that had anything to do with Dove Harbor.”

  Savannah had been holding her breath, waiting for him to spill everything about her parents and his. The affair. Helena's drug and alcohol abuse. She had even grown angry in anticipation, waiting for him to undo all the w
ork she'd done.

  But he never betrayed her. Never gave up the entire truth.

  “Winning this last series opened my eyes.” Cooper’s frown began to turn into his patented smile. “I was faced with finally fulfilling Dad’s last wish. Faced with going home for the first time. Taking responsibility for all the hurt I caused by disappearing.”

  He stopped suddenly to stare at the ring pinched between his fingers. Sucked in a deep breath. “Turns out some hurts were too deep.” His eyes rose to the camera. “I lost literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  “He really does love you,” Helena said from the curved opening to the morning room. She swept her gaze over to Savannah, the beginnings of tears layering her eyes. “And look at you,” she added in a tone sounding very much like one she hadn’t used in months. Reproachful. Maybe angry too.

  Savannah hurriedly shut off the television and stood, heart hammering. “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d watch the game while you were”—she swallowed a lump in her throat—“preparing dinner. I should have asked.”

  Helena crossed over to her daughter and cupped her cheeks. She spoke in a softer, kinder tone. “Look at how broken hearted you are.”

  She blinked in surprise. “What?”

  "I'm the one who's sorry. I should never have allowed things to get this far. I have to stop being so selfish, and you have to stop tiptoeing around me." Her mother straightened and lifted her chin. "Dinner is canceled. Are you capable of making flight arrangements, or do I have to do everything for you?"

  Cooper ignored the small aches and pains from the previous night's game, blindly making his way through the facility to the locker room. A year ago, he'd have spent that walk appreciating the smells and constant air-conditioned chill in the air. He'd have felt that draw of the rink through every wall.

  This season would be different. He’d stupidly expected Savannah Jane would be there for every game. The home ones, at least. After the first game alone—if he didn’t count Josh’s presence—he was acutely aware of how badly he’d screwed things up with her.