From their seats above the rink, Ally and Clarissa watched in awe as Reggie and another kid demonstrated passing techniques for the camera crew down on the ice, their slick moves culminating in a slapshot that had Ally on her feet so fast, she nearly spilled her mocha. Reggie zipped around the ice in a heart-attack-inducing blur, but she was so flawless, so in control that Ally didn’t have time to be nervous.

After making another impressive shot, Reggie skated over to the sidelines to answer a few questions for the reporter. Ally couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the kid was beaming.

“She’s amazing,” Ally said. “I wish I had that kind of courage on the ice.”

Clarissa, who’d had a front row seat to Ally’s one and only skating disaster in college, smirked. “If you want lessons, I’m sure Eva Bradshaw would be more than happy—”

“Don’t even joke about that. Pretty sure that fall scarred me for life.”

“Yet you lived to tell the tale.”

Ally returned her attention to Reggie. “God, she’s such a natural out there.”

“Surprising no one.” Clarissa said, swiping through her iPad. Ally wasn’t sure how all the technical stuff worked, but Clarissa was getting a direct feed from the cameras on the ice, and she’d spent most of the morning shouting orders down to the lighting crew. Sparing Ally a quick glance, she said, “I’m telling you, Al. I’ve caught a few of the practices, and these kids are really good. But Reggie? She was born for this sport.”

“Now you sound like Roscoe.” Ally laughed and settled back into her seat. “He’s always saying stuff like that.”

In the silence that followed, Ally realized how that must’ve sounded. “I mean,” she added quickly, “he did say that a few times, back when I was first considering whether or not to let her play. I have no idea what he always says. I mean, it’s not like I hang out in the locker room like a stalker or anything, but… Well, according to Reggie, he’s been very… supportive.” Ally took a a big gulp of her mocha, scalding her tongue in the process.

When she lowered her cup, Clarissa leveled her with a piercing stare. “What’s going on between you and Mr. LeGrand, exactly?”

“What? Nothing.” Ally looked back out across the ice, watching Reggie skate back into the group with Henny and some of the other kids. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Would you like a list? Because I have one.” Clarissa started counting off on her fingers. “One—when I got here for the shoot, you two seemed awful cozy down there.”

“We were just going over the details. I wanted to know what to expect from all this, make sure Reggie was prepared for it. She’s never been in the spotlight before, and I—”

“Two—you guys keep making swoony faces at each other whenever you think I’m not looking.”

“No we don’t. And swoony? Is that even a word?”

“It’s totally a word, and you’re totally doing it.”

Ally scoffed. “I’m watching Reggie. It’s not my fault her coach is always right there. I mean, that’s kind of his job, Clarissa.”

“Yes, he’s always right there, all the way down by the net at the complete opposite end of the rink from where Reggie’s hanging out. And three—”

“You exaggerator! That’s—”

“Three,” Clarissa said with a sly grin, “and perhaps most telling… When you say his name, your whole face starts glowing. I’m not kidding, Al. You’re, like, radioactive for this guy.”

“Now you’re just imagining things.”

“Really?” Clarissa narrowed her eyes, lowering her gaze to Ally’s neck. “Am I imagining that hickey?”

“What? I don’t—” Ally’s fingers flew to her throat, probing all of the spots where Roscoe’s lips had been last night. Jaw, neck, collarbone… God, just thinking about Roscoe’s commanding, insatiable mouth on her body made Ally tremble inside. But even after nearly three weeks of secret dates and stolen kisses, there were still a few places Roscoe’s lips hadn’t tasted, and thinking about those places had the potential to work Ally into a full-on frenzy.

So she plastered on a smile and forced her thoughts back to Clarissa, who was now rolling her eyes at Ally and shaking her head.

“Girl,” Clarissa said. “You totally walked into that trap. Hang on.” She glanced at her iPad again, then stood up and made a series of complicated hand signals to someone on the ice. “They need to stay together down there. They’re too spread out.”

“You set a trap for me?” Ally laughed. “What kind of best friend are you?”

“The kind that’s going to be sent into an early grave by these overgrown apes.” She waved down to the ice again. “Dunn! Get your group closer to the net. We need more action shots. Goalie too.” Without missing a beat, she turned back to Ally and said, “And the kind who knows you’re hiding something, and you hate keeping secrets, and this one is so juicy it’s probably killing you. So do us both a favor fess up.”

Ally pressed her lips together, biting back another smile. Thank God Clarissa had started connecting the dots. She’d hated keeping this from her best friend.

“We’re kind of seeing each other,” Ally confessed. “A little bit.”

“I knew it! Oh my God!”

“I wanted to tell you sooner,” Ally said, “but I didn’t want you to get all weird about it. Roscoe said you guys have kind of a difficult relationship. We both thought we should hold off on saying anything. Plus it’s really new and I don’t even know what it is or what I’m even doing half the time and I was scared to say it out loud and I just…” Ally sighed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Clarissa blinked, probably trying to process Ally’s neurosis, which was no easy feat. “So he knew about our friendship, but I didn’t know about your… whatever-ship?”

“That’s what you’re focusing on here?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a fireable best friend offense, Al.”

“No, it isn’t. Besides, I didn’t tell him anything. Reggie mentioned it.”

“Oh, that little traitor!”

“She didn’t mean it, Clar. She didn’t even know this was… a thing.” A whole thing… A laugh bubbled up inside as Ally thought about Paulette and John at Wellshire. At this rate, Ally would land a starring role on that soap opera. “She’s suspicious, but neither of us have confirmed or denied. I’m hoping she just drops it.”

“Sure, just like she dropped the hockey thing. And the black paint thing, which she’s never going to give up on—she told me all about her plan to convince you to say yes.”

“You’re right. I can’t say no to her.” Ally smiled. She was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all, letting Reggie make more of her own choices. “Anyway, I was planning to tell you. And Reggie, too, when the time is right. I just… I wanted to wait until it was a little more serious.”

“How serious is it?”

“I’m not sure.” Ally shrugged. “We’ve been on some dates.”

“How many?”

“A few.”

“Define ‘a few.’”

“Like, eight dates,” Ally said, trying to count. “Nine? I mean, the first one doesn’t even count. That was just… hockey business.”

“Hockey business. Really.” Clarissa pushed her glasses on top of her head, the iPad and the scene below all but forgotten. “I can’t believe I actually have to press you for this information, but have you two—”

“No, we haven’t.” Ally rolled her eyes.

“Then what have you been doing on these eight or nine dates?”

“Well, let’s see… We’ve played bingo with old people, gone on a wine tour, seen a few movies, taken one of those historic homes tours downtown. There’s been a lot of Greek food, and Italian, and a couple walks in the park. Bowling twice.” Ally’s head spun just thinking about all the time they’d spent together these past few weeks; she could barely keep track of all the cute ways Roscoe continued to surprise her. “Oh, and he likes picnics—can you believe it? At sunset! During a meteor shower, which we couldn’t even see because it wasn’t dark enough, but he said that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. He even cooked the food himself. Some fancy lasagna thing that he wrapped in this special insulated bag to keep it hot.”

Clarissa snorted. “God, I really want to vomit for saying this about LeGrand, but that’s fucking romantic.”

“Right? He’s so cute, Clar. And thoughtful and patient. I’m completely insane most of the time, and he just… rolls with it. And like Savannah Hart says, you can’t hide out at home under the blankets waiting for your Hogwarts letter. You need go out there and make your own kickass magic.”

“That’s what she says?”

“Well I’m paraphrasing, but yes! And you’ve said it too! How many times have you told me to dip my toe in the dating pool again?”

“Yes, with normal guys. Like IT professionals or accountants or, I don’t know…” She held up her Starbucks cup. “Coffee house baristas. Not hockey stars.”

“That is so elitist! Or, like, the opposite of elitist. Either way, totally messed up.”

“It’s called smart thinking, Al. I know these guys are sexy, and charming, and rich—shoot. Hang on.” Something on her screen captured her attention, and she stood up again. “Marco!” she shouted. “Get another spotlight on center ice. There’s a weird glare coming in on camera two.” Then, back to Ally, “You can’t let yourself get caught up in all that.”

“I don’t care about his money,” Ally said.

“I’m not saying that. It’s just… They seem like the whole package, right? But if something seems too good to be true, it usually is.” Clarissa sat back down and flipped her iPad closed, which meant things were about to get real. “These guys know all the right things to say, all the ways to wine and dine women, all the exact perfect ways to smile and sparkle and make us feel like we’re the only woman on the planet. Why, because they truly care? Bzzzz. Wrong answer. It’s practice. Tons and tons of practice.” She gestured down to the ice, where Roscoe, Dunn, and Henny were demonstrating more passing drills. “It’s in their blood.”

“So what? You’ve… practiced. More than a few times, if I recall. If I hadn’t met Dan so young, I would’ve been practicing for the last twenty years, too.” She thought of Roscoe again, the way he held her in his arms, the way his kisses seemed to devour her and protect her all at once. Her face flushed, but that was nothing compared to the fire crackling inside. Just like Savannah had said, Ally was more than ready to make her own magic. “In fact, I’m kind of looking forward to practicing again. When it comes to that strong, capable, hot-as-hell man down there, I’m planning to practice every day, five times a day, until I’m absolutely perfect at it.”

Clarissa’s mouth hung open, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Are we talking about dating, or—”

“Sex, Clarissa! I’m talking about sex! S-E-X! And there’s nothing wrong with a woman who stands in her power and claims her own personal truth. And right now my personal truth is that I want hot, crazy, fierce, warrior-goddess sex with number fifty-six of the Buffalo Tempest, and I’m not going to apologize for it!”

“Preach, sister,” one of the hockey moms sitting behind them said, and a some others laughed, unleashing a few good-natured catcalls. “You and me both!”

It was at that precise moment Ally realized just how loudly she’d been proclaiming that personal truth of hers, and she immediately clamped her mouth shut and snuggled down in her chair, wondering if it was possible to spontaneously combust in an ice arena.

Clarissa was trying so hard not to laugh, her lips were turning white. When she finally composed herself, her eyes turned serious once again.

“Ally,” she said softly, “I’m telling you this for your own good, okay? You are not the only woman who feels that way about Mr. LeGrand or half the other single guys on the team. You need proof? Come to the games this season and see just how many women are lined up for them.”

“So you’re saying I can’t compete with that?”

“Give me a break. You’re amazing in every way, even if you do sound like a walking, talking, self-help book.” Clarissa sighed, offering a warm, genuine smile. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. And getting attached to a professional athlete is just… They’re on the road all the time, different cities, parties, money… There’s a lot to deal with. Lots of temptations. It goes to their heads. And if you ever got caught in the crossfire of something like that, it would destroy you. He would destroy you.”

Ally thought about bingo night at Wellshire, the way Roscoe had helped everyone with their bingo cards, how they all adored him for reasons that had nothing to do with his status as an athlete and everything to do with his kind, compassionate nature. She thought about the way he insisted on opening the car door for her, and how he brought her flowers—not big showy bouquets, but normal grocery store flowers wrapped in cellophane, the kind that said hey, I was just running an errand when I saw these and thought of you. And she thought of the way he looked at her every time they saw each other after a few days had passed—like he was the lucky one.

“Roscoe seems pretty down to earth,” Ally said. “He’s just a man, Clar. Not a stereotype. Quit being so judgy.”

“Roscoe? You’re calling him Roscoe now? I don’t even call him that, and I’ve been working with the team for months.”

“You didn’t go down on him in a field, though, that’s the thing.” The confession was out before Ally could stop herself. At least this time she wasn’t announcing it to the whole arena.

“Allison Jennifer Heinz!” Clarissa shout-whispered. “You went down on him in a field?”

“Among other things.” Ally sipped her mocha again, her tone much more casual than she actually felt. Heat bubbled up inside her as she remembered that night and every one after, a simmer quickly cranked up to boil. “He’s so sweet. And he kisses like it’s an Olympic level competition. And don’t even get me started on the abs. My God, Clar.” Ally shuddered. She literally shuddered, remembering how it had felt to run her hands over his abs, up his bare chest. She couldn’t even bring herself to tell Clarissa about the other parts of his body she’d explored. He was so incredible it almost made her weep, but some things you just kept private, no matter how badly you wanted to share.

“You are a filthy, filthy woman.” Clarissa let out a dreamy sigh. “And I am so jealous.”

“You spend practically every day with a team of world class hockey hotties. Seems to me you’d have your pick.”

Clarissa stared out across the ice, focusing her attention on a group of guys practicing in front of the net. Ally hadn’t met them yet, but she thought Reggie had told her they were the defensive players.

“Clar? You with me?”

Clarissa suddenly waved a hand in front of her face, as if the very idea of hooking up with a hockey player was something to be shooed away. “That would be completely unprofessional.”

“But also kind of fun.” Ally grinned.

“I’m too busy for fun. Especially fun with hockey hotties.” Clarissa huffed. “And Reggie? What are you going to tell her?”

Ally shrugged. “She insists she already knows. Keeps telling me I should just fess up, because she’s mature enough to handle her—wait, let me get this quote right—“uptight, annoying, yet superhot mother going out on dates like an actual human instead of hiding out with ice cream and Netflix like a creepy lady-hermit.”

“Oh, she has your number all right.”

“Maybe.” Ally gazed out across the rink again. Reggie and the kid she’d partnered up with earlier were showing some of the other kids a few moves, patiently repeating them in slow motion as the others tried to follow suit.

“So.” Ally nudged Clarissa’s knee with her own. “If Reggie’s mature enough to handle it, how about my best friend? You okay with me going on a few more dates, maybe getting in some… practice time?”

Clarissa sighed and met Ally’s gaze. Her eyes were shiny with emotion, and despite her earlier jokes, Ally felt her own eyes water in response.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Ally.” Clarissa reached for her hand, gave her a small squeeze. “Things are still so… so fresh. You know?”

The familiar lump lodged in Ally’s throat, but she swallowed it down. She didn’t need Clarissa to remind her how fresh things were. It’s not like she could go a whole day without thinking about everything she’d lost, without feeling that sharp stab of pain in her gut when she woke up in the morning and absently reached over to touch him on the other side of her bed, only to find it cold and remember all over again that he’d died.

Except… Hadn’t she done just that? Gone a whole day—maybe longer—without that crushing pain?

Of course Dan was never far from her thoughts—there were a thousand little things every day that reminded her of him: Reggie had his eyes. Dan had picked out their couch, which Ally had secretly hated from day one but never had the heart to tell him. She thought of him whenever she couldn’t reach something without standing on a chair, or when Reggie brought up a funny memory, or when she’d noticed the Hawaiian pizza on the Pasquale’s menu and wondered whether he’d give it the thumbs-up.

But, she realized suddenly, when she tried to remember the last time she’d woken up to that awful, endless ache, she couldn’t.

Ally rubbed her chest, blinking back fresh tears.

“Does he know about Dan?” Clarissa asked softly.

Ally shook her head. “It’s not the kind of thing that comes up in casual conversation. Oh, hey, thanks for dinner, by the way, my husband’s dead. Total freak accident. It was so messed up they didn’t even bother with a lawsuit—just offered me a ton of money and a really nice floral wreath at the funeral. Can you pass the pepper?”

Clarissa was silent. When Ally looked up, she noticed Clarissa’s cheeks were shiny with tears.

Ally sighed. In all her suffering over Dan’s death, it was easy to forget that Clarissa had lost a friend, too. They’d all met in college, and the three of them had been extremely close. Years before his death, Clarissa had already started trying to convince Dan and Ally to move to Buffalo. Dan had always joked that he couldn’t move to a city whose hockey team hadn’t won a Cup in five years.

She wondered what he’d say now about her and Reggie living here. About Reggie playing for the Tempest youth team. About Ally dating the captain.

A smile tugged at her lips. The Tempest had finally won the Cup. She was pretty sure Dan would have liked that much, at least.

Resting her head on Clarissa’s shoulder, Ally blew out a soft breath. “I’m sorry, Clar. I know it’s hard for you, too. But I really feel like I’m ready to move on. Not to forget Dan, not to rush into something and avoid dealing with my grief. But to start looking forward instead of behind me. Does that make sense?”

“If that’s how you feel, don’t you think you should tell him about Dan? Talk about it a little bit?”

“I don’t need to talk about it.” Ally sat up again, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I’ve been living it for three years. Roscoe doesn’t know anything about that part of my life, and I like it that way. He’s the first person in three years to look at me with something other than pity.”

Clarissa lowered her eyes, and Ally rushed to explain.

“I’m not talking about you. You’re my best friend, Clar. You’ve been there for me through all of it. For Reggie, too. We never would’ve survived without you.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“But it’s true. Things are different now. At least, they’re starting to be.”

“Ally, you’re right. I am your best friend. I know you, way deep down. So don’t try to put a gloss over all this and tell me everything’s okay.”

“It’s not. Good lord, I promise it’s not.” Ally laughed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “But this thing with Roscoe? This is okay. Good, even. Really good.”

Clarissa held her gaze a moment, then looked back out onto the rink. “But are you having fun, too? Like real, actual fun?”

“So much.” And she was—Roscoe made her laugh, made her swoon. But what she didn’t tell Clarissa was that since she’d started dating Roscoe, Ally felt herself expanding, opening up to life and love and passion in ways she’d never before experienced, not even with Dan. She adored her husband—he’d been kind and loving, an incredible father, and he took care of Ally and Reggie as though it had been his life’s dream to do just that.

But holy hell, Roscoe was unlocking something inside her she hadn’t even known existed. Something that had her—okay, maybe not jumping out of bed, but at least getting out of it with a smile on her face, looking forward to the day ahead.

And they hadn’t even slept together yet.

“I just want this one thing,” Ally continued. “One thing that’s all mine, new and shiny, no old ghosts getting in the way.”

Clarissa returned her smile, but her eyes were full of unwavering concern. “That’s the thing about ghosts, though. Eventually, they do get in the way. And you don’t always get to decide how and when they show up to ruin the party.”

* * *

“I knew it! I so knew it!” Fresh from the locker room, Reggie clomped into the seating area with a bag of gear, a triumphant grin on her face. “You are dating my hockey coach.”

“Reggie, what are you—”

“Jordan Pulaski, right winger? His mom was sitting by you guys and she totally heard you talking about Roscoe! She said she even saw him kissing you when they first got here and you guys were near the box and didn’t know they could see you. And then she told Jordan, and he told Nick, and Nick told me. Busted!”

“Who is Jordan Pulaski’s—oh.” Ally glanced behind her. The hockey moms who were sitting there during Ally’s warrior goddess sex rant were noticeably absent now. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip.”

Next to her, Clarissa snorted into her fist. Ally elbowed her in the ribs.

“Well,” Reggie said, grinning like she’d just figured out the physics of time travel, “since you’re dating the coach, I was hoping you’d be okay with me maybe going out on Saturday with my… Well, he’s kind of my partner on the ice. Roscoe paired us up to work with the other kids since we’re kind of at the same level.”

“Wait. Going out? Out where? Who is this boy?”

Reggie shrugged like it was no big deal, even though this was obviously a very big deal. To Ally, anyway. “Nick Harper,” she said breezily. “He’s really good, mom. And super nice. And it’s mostly hockey business anyway.”

At this, Clarissa let out a full-blown snort.

“Hockey business?” Ally asked. Panic rose in her throat.

“Just dinner and a movie with a few other guys from the team and their girlfriends. And I can totally walk from our house, so you don’t even have to worry about me getting in a car with a bunch of kids, and I would definitely be back by curfew.”

“You’ve got this all figured out, huh?” Ally asked.

“Just… A bunch of them were talking about getting together, and I thought it sounded fun. We never really get to hang out outside of practice.”

Ally considered it. There was a local movie theater a few blocks away from the house, and lots of little restaurants and cafes nearby. It wasn’t an entirely ridiculous request.

“Please, Mom? I won’t even be the only girl there. There’s like, ten of us altogether.”

Ally nodded. Maybe she felt guilty about lying to her daughter for so long about Roscoe. Maybe it was just Roscoe’s big-hearted influence on her. Or maybe she was starting to shed some of her fear, just a little bit.

Either way, Ally suddenly found herself smiling. “Alright, Reg. I guess that would be okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Ally laughed. “But he needs to meet you up at the house first so I can meet him properly—not in his hockey uniform. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal!” Reggie practically through herself at Ally, wrapping her into a tight hug. “Thank you thank you thank you, you are the best mom ever!”

“I’ll remember you said so the next time I ask you to clean up your room or do the dishes.” Ally dug her keys out of her purse and handed them over. “Go put your stuff in the car. I’ll take you home on my way back to the office.”

“Cool! Bye Aunt Clarissa!” She hugged Clarissa, hefted her bag over her shoulder, and scooted out toward the exit.

As soon as Reggie was gone, Clarissa said, “Who are you, and what have you done with Ally?”

“Stop. I’m not that bad.”

Clarissa huffed. “You’re really okay with this?”

“Not… exactly.” Ally wrapped her hands around her mocha, unable to hide her devious smile as she scanned the ice for another glimpse of her man. “But don’t worry. I have a plan.”