Chapter 94 Training Camp

Chapter 94 Training Camp


The rookies always arrived like they had something to prove.

That was the first thing I noticed when training camp opened again. It was the way the younger guys came in with their heads high and their shoulders too loose, like confidence alone could earn them a spot on a championship roster.

Most of them learned fast.

One of them looked like he planned to make a problem out of it.

Mateo Cruz.

He was talented, no question. Quick feet, good hands, sharp first step, the kind of rookie who could make a play happen before anyone else in the building saw it coming. He also had the kind of grin that suggested he knew he was good and liked showing people he knew it. That part did not bother me by itself.

What bothered me was that he kept watching Cassian.

And not in the normal way younger players watched veterans.

Mateo watched like he wanted to steal the shape of him.

I noticed it during the first puck flow drill. Cassian cut through the neutral zone, took the pass clean, slipped the defender with that same half turn he used on game nights, and sent the puck across the ice in one motion, the drill moved on. The line shifted, then Mateo came through next and tried to repeat the exact same move, right down to the shoulder dip.

It was a little too deliberate.

Cassian noticed too. I saw the tiny pause in his expression before it smoothed out again.

He said nothing.

The rookie caught the puck again on the next rep and this time he added a little extra to the move, a little flourish at the end like he wanted everybody to know he had done it better than the man before him. A few of the younger guys on the sideline laughed under their breath.

I narrowed my eyes.

Cassian’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to laugh or ignore it completely.

Danton blew the whistle and called the line forward again. “Keep it clean, no showboating.”

Mateo gave a quick nod, but the grin never really left his face.

I stood near the boards with my stick under one arm and watched the next rep unfold. Cassian passed the puck, turned, and followed the play to the far side. Mateo cut in behind him and tried the same lane, just enough to make the message clear.

He was trying to impress Cassian.

That was what hit me first.

Mateo was trying to model himself after him in front of the whole team, and I could already tell the kid was doing it on purpose. Cassian was the kind of player every rookie studied, the kind of veteran young guys wanted to be when they grew into the league.

I understood that.

What I did not understand was why the rookie kept looking at him like he was trying to win something more than respect.

Cassian caught my eye across the ice after the drill and held it for a beat.

I knew exactly what he was asking without him saying a word.

You seeing this?

Yes, I was seeing it.

I lifted one brow just enough to let him know I had noticed.

His mouth curved slightly. 

The next drill was more physical, Mateo went out again and did the same thing. He took the puck low, protected it with his body, then spun off the wall with the exact kind of move Cassian would use when he wanted to create just enough room to make the defense lean the wrong way.

That time, he looked straight at Cassian after the rep.

Not me. 

Cassian.

And Cassian, to his credit, gave him the smallest nod.

That should have been the mature reaction. It was. Still, I could feel something in my chest tighten around it anyway.

I leaned on my stick and watched the rest of camp move around us. Rookies trying too hard. Veterans making the same jokes they always made when the season restarted. Coach barking, skates cutting, pucks snapping across the ice. Training camp always had a weird energy to it. Everyone was either trying to prove they belonged or pretending they did not care whether anyone noticed them.

Cassian belonged. 

Mateo looked like he wanted to be the one people noticed next.

By the end of the morning session, I had seen enough to know the kid had the skill to stick around if he learned how to listen. I also knew he had too much confidence for his own good, that was not unusual. Most rookies came in with that. What made this one different was that he kept testing how far he could push it.

Especially with Cassian.

The last drill ended and the guys started filtering off the ice. I stayed near the boards long enough to watch Cassian skate a slow lap around the zone, towel over one shoulder, helmet off, hair damp from the work. He looked good in that dangerous way he always did after skating hard. 

Mateo skated up beside him halfway through the changeover and said something I could not hear.

Cassian glanced at him, said something back, and kept moving.

Mateo laughed too loudly.

That was enough.

My eyes narrowed before I could stop them.

Cassian noticed the second it happened.

He looked my way again, and this time there was a glint of amusement in it, like he had seen my mood change and found it a little satisfying. 

I kept my face neutral.

He kept looking at me anyway.

After practice, the locker room was loud in the usual way.

Cassian came out of the showers with a towel around his neck and a grin I did not trust.

He had that look on his face.

The one that meant he knew something I had not said yet.

I was at my stall taping my ankle when he stopped beside me.

“You looked like you wanted to bite somebody today,” he said.

I kept my eyes on the tape. “Maybe I did.”

He leaned one hand on the stall behind me. “Was it me?”

I looked up at him slowly. “Do you really want to know?”

His mouth twitched. “Probably not.”

“Smart.”

He laughed quietly, then let his gaze drift towards the room where the rookies were still gathering their things. Mateo was over near the far end of the bench, still talking too much and laughing too easily, one of the other kids hanging on every word. Even from here I could tell he was still riding the high of trying to impress people.

Cassian noticed where I was looking.

“Mateo?” he asked.

I gave him a flat look. “You know his name already.”

“That was a yes.”

I kept taping.

Cassian lowered his voice. “He is good.”

I glanced at him. “I did not say he was not.”
“No.” He studied my face for a second longer than necessary. “You just look like you want to set him on fire.”

That almost got a laugh out of me.

“Not him specifically,” I said.

Cassian’s brows lifted. “That sounded almost unfair.”

“It was.”

He leaned a little closer, enough that I could feel the heat of him at my side. “You are jealous.”

I looked at him. “I am not jealous.”

“You are definitely jealous.”

“I am not.”

“Torin.”

I dropped the tape roll onto the bench and turned toward him fully. “The kid keeps trying to copy you.”

Cassian blinked once, then laughed. “That is what this is about?”

“Do not laugh.”

“I am not laughing at you.”

“You are absolutely laughing at me.”

He looked far too pleased with himself. “He is a rookie, he is allowed to be impressed.”

“That is not what he is doing.”

Cassian’s expression changed slightly. “What do you think he is doing?”

I stared at him. “Trying too hard.”

Cassian’s mouth curved again, softer this time. “You do not like that?”

“I do not like it when he does it to you.”

That got him.

The amusement faded just enough for the heat underneath it to show through. 

Cassian leaned in a little more. “You think he is trying to impress me.”

“I know he is.”

“And that bothers you.”

“It is distracting.”

He gave me a slow look that was almost too knowing. “Right.”

I glared at him.

He did not move away.

Instead he smiled, brief and low and entirely unfair in the way it made the room feel smaller. “You should have seen your face out there.”

“My face is fine.”

“Your face was narrowed.”

I gave him a flat look. “That is not a thing.”

“It is absolutely a thing.”

He looked far too entertained for a man who knew exactly what he was doing to me. One hand still braced on the stall, he tilted his head and lowered his voice enough that I had to pay attention.

“You were watching him watch me.”

I held his gaze.

He went on, quieter now. “And then you looked like you wanted to pull me out of practice for it.”

My jaw tightened.

That only made his smile deepen. “You are adorable when you are trying to pretend you are not territorial.”

I stared at him.

He was enjoying this too much. 

And worse, he was right.

I stood up before I could stop myself, which put me closer to him than I meant to be. Too close for a locker room full of people, not close enough for what I wanted to do next.

His expression shifted immediately. The teasing was still there, but it had gone under something hotter. The kind of tension that always appeared when we were standing too near each other after a long day and the whole room around us stopped mattering.

I looked at him hard. “Do not encourage him.”

His eyes flicked over my face. “You are serious.”

“Yes.”

He held that for a beat, then nodded once like he understood more than I had actually said. “All right.”

That should have been enough to calm me. It did not, not entirely.

Because then he smiled again, slower this time, and let his hand brush briefly against my lower back as he passed me to grab his bag. The contact was light enough that no one else would have noticed.

He paused just before moving away and looked over his shoulder at me.

“You are allowed to be jealous,” he said.

I gave him a look that could have been a warning if my pulse had not already given me away.

He only smiled wider and turned toward the showers again.

I watched him go and felt the rest of the room blur around the edges.

Mateo’s voice carried from across the locker room a second later, too loud and too eager, asking somebody whether Cassian had really always skated that way or if he had just made it up as he went along.

I narrowed my eyes again.

Cassian, from the shower doorway, heard it and looked back at me like this was now officially my problem and also a little bit his favorite thing.

I should have rolled my eyes.

Instead I kept watching both of them and thought, not for the first time, that training camp was already going to be a mess.