My Hockey Captain Proposed After Cheating

The failed proposal turned Tyler into the world's most attentive boyfriend.

He brought me iced lattes before my eight a.m. class. He texted good-morning hearts. On Wednesday, he showed up at my dorm with two tickets to a Boston Harbormen game.

"Pro hockey," he said, waving them like a magic trick. "You and me. Date night."

I raised an eyebrow. "You hate it when I watch other players."

"That's not true."

"Sophomore year, you sulked for two days because I clapped for a Harbormen goal."

"Because you clapped for *Carter*." His mouth twisted, just for a second. Then he smoothed it out. "But that's old news, babe. I'm a bigger man now."

Ryan Carter. Westbridge's captain before Tyler, one year ahead of him. The guy whose jersey every freshman girl owned. My first semester, a stick had snapped during a practice I was filming, and a jagged piece had come flying at my face. Ryan had stepped in front of it without blinking. Then he'd handed me back my camera and asked if I was okay.

Tyler had never forgiven him for that.

"He just got lucky," Tyler used to say. "Scouts found him a few years early. That's it."

Back then, I'd thought it was normal guy competition.

Now I knew. Tyler didn't respect anyone. He just measured them.

"Sounds fun," I said, and took the tickets.

---

Friday at six, he canceled.

**Tyler:** Coach called extra practice. So sorry baby. Make it up to you ❤️

Two minutes later, Sophie sent a photo. Tyler's black Jeep at a gas station. Madison in the passenger seat, her bare feet on his dashboard.

**Sophie:** Heading north. Pretty sure it's that private rink in Lynnfield.

**Sophie:** Extra practice my ass.

**Avery:** Let them skate.

I'd already promised WBU Sports I'd film the Harbormen's charity exhibition downtown anyway. So I grabbed my camera bag and went alone.

---

Halfway through the second period, a perfume I knew drifted over my shoulder.

"Avery! What a coincidence!"

Madison dropped into the seat beside me. Her cheeks were pink from the cold. Her lip gloss was smudged at one corner.

"Thought you'd be busy tonight," I said, eyes on my viewfinder.

"I was." She giggled. "Then I came here. Look what I got."

She held up a glossy black card with a gold Harbormen logo. **Scout Exchange — Private Reception. Admit One.**

"Someone *special* gave it to me." She tapped it against her chin. "He said I deserved to meet important people."

I knew that card.

I'd sat at my father's kitchen table in March while he made four phone calls to get it. *For Tyler,* I'd begged. *It'd mean everything to him.*

The last bit of warmth in my chest went out like a match in the rain.

"Wow," I said. "He must really like you."

Madison's smile wobbled. She'd wanted tears. She didn't know what to do with calm.

---

When the final horn sounded, I packed my gear and headed for the staff corridor.

Footsteps pattered behind me.

"Avery, wait! I need to explain something."

"No, you don't."

"Please, it's not what it looks like—"

I kept walking. A hand clamped around my wrist and yanked me around.

Her face had changed. The sweetness was gone.

"You know what your problem is?" she hissed. "You're jealous. I'm younger. I'm prettier. And he's *bored* of you."

I stared at her fingers on my skin.

Then I laughed.

"Madison. Take your hand off me."

I twisted free. Not hard. Barely a flick.

She dropped straight to the floor like someone had cut her strings.

"Ow! *Avery pushed me!*"

Heads turned all down the hallway. A security guard. Two volunteers in orange vests. A dad holding a kid's hand.

And from around the corner, Tyler.

He didn't look at me. Not once. He ran right past and knelt beside her.

"Maddie, are you hurt? Talk to me."

"She shoved me," Madison sobbed into his jacket. "I was just trying to be nice."

Tyler stood up, his face hard. "What the hell is wrong with you, Avery? Why are you bullying her?"

Something cold settled in my stomach. I almost smiled.

"Tyler," I said. "You know this hallway has cameras, right?"

His eyes jumped to the ceiling. The color drained from his cheeks.

Then he squared his shoulders anyway. "Just apologize to her."

"Excuse me?"

"Everyone's watching. Say sorry and we'll talk later."

"I'm not apologizing for something she did to herself."

"Avery—"

Madison lunged up and grabbed my arm again, nails digging in. "Just say it!"

I jerked back.

My heel hit something slick.

The floor sloped down toward the rink's maintenance bay, and the ramp was wet with melted ice. My foot shot out. My camera bag swung wide. The world tilted sideways.

Somewhere close, a heavy engine growled. The ice resurfacer was rolling out of its bay.

"Watch out!" a worker shouted.

The back of my head cracked against a metal railing.

Everything went black at the edges. White sparks. A roar in my ears.

Through the blur, I saw Tyler. His arms were wrapped around Madison, pulling her away from the ramp.

He hadn't even turned around.

The engine noise grew louder. Closer. I tried to move my legs. They wouldn't listen.

Then a loud clunk, and the growl died.

Someone had hit the emergency stop.

Arms slid under my back and knees. I was lifted off the wet concrete like I weighed nothing.

I forced my eyes open.

Dark hair, damp with sweat, falling over his forehead. A navy Harbormen training shirt. A jaw so tight it looked carved out of stone.

Ryan Carter.

"Avery? Hey. Look at me." His voice was rough. "Stay with me."

"I'm fine," I tried to say. It came out as a mumble. The hallway spun.

He started running.

As we passed Tyler, my boyfriend finally looked up. His eyes went wide. He stuck an arm out.

"Wait—she's my girlfriend!"

Ryan stopped.

He glanced down at me, at whatever my face looked like right then. Then he raised his eyes to Tyler.

"Then why the hell," he said, ice in every word, "was I the one who saved her?"

Tyler's arm dropped. He didn't say a thing.

Ryan didn't wait for him to. He turned and kept moving, his chest pounding against my cheek. He bent his head close to my ear.

"Don't close your eyes, sweetheart. I've got you."

I fisted my hand in his collar. It was the only thing holding still.

The lights above us smeared into long gold lines. Doors banged open. Voices overlapped.

"Call an ambulance," Ryan snapped. "Now."

My eyelids were so heavy.

The last thing I felt before the dark swallowed me was his hand closing around mine.

Big. Warm. Calloused.

And shaking.