Sophie’s POV
The taxi crawls through downtown traffic.
I scroll through hockey news on my phone. Habit now. Something I never cared about before Blaze re-entered my life. Now I check the sports apps daily.
Know the game. Know the players. Know what matters to him.
The city blurs past the window. Glass towers reflecting afternoon sun. Pedestrians rushing through crosswalks. The usual chaos of urban life that I've learned to tune out.
One headline catches my eye. Makes me pause mid-scroll.
"The Beast is Back: Asher Carpenter Returns to Form."
I tap the article. Skim through the analysis while the taxi inches forward.
Part interview. Part sports commentary. The kind of deep-dive piece that hardcore fans devour. Quotes from Asher himself scattered throughout the text.
"I'm feeling better than I have in months. Refocused entirely on hockey. That's what matters now. That's all that matters."
The author gushes about his recent transformation. Ruthless on the ice. Relentless in pursuit of victory. Ready to crush anyone who stands in his path.
"Carpenter seems reborn," the article concludes. "Whatever demons haunted him earlier this season, he's channeled them into something terrifying. Opposing teams should be very, very worried."
I lock my phone. Let the screen go dark. Stare out the window at nothing.
Asher Carpenter. The name used to mean nothing to me. Just another hockey player in a league full of them.
Now it means everything. And nothing. All at once.
Of course I knew about him long before I saw him on screen. Long before that awkward hospital visit with Blaze.
Blaze had mentioned the name years ago. In our rare text exchanges. Fleeting references buried in longer messages about other things.
"Rough game against Boston today."
"Carpenter's team is looking strong this season."
"Can't believe we lost to him again."
Small mentions. Casual on the surface. But loaded with something I couldn't quite name. Something heavy. Something complicated. Something that made my instincts prickle with curiosity.
I'm smart. Always have been. It's my best quality and my worst flaw. The ability to read between lines. To piece together puzzles from scattered fragments.
Their history is complicated. That much is obvious. The tension at the hospital wasn't professional rivalry. Wasn't the usual competitive animosity between opposing captains.
It was personal. Deeply, painfully personal. The kind of charged energy that only exists between people who've hurt each other. Who've loved each other.
I don't have proof. Just intuition. Just the way Blaze's jaw tightens when Asher's name comes up. The way his eyes go distant. Haunted.
The way he kissed me that night after we left the bar. Desperate. Almost angry. Like he was trying to erase something.
Someone.
I don't push him for details. That's not how this works. Pushing makes people defensive. Makes them build walls higher.
Patience gets better results. Wait long enough, and people tell you everything. They can't help themselves. Secrets want to be shared.
He'll tell me when he's ready. I'll make sure of it. But I intend to get those answers. Sooner rather than later. Before this situation spirals beyond my control.
Know your enemy. The thought surfaces unbidden. Their weaknesses. Their strengths.
Is Asher my enemy? Maybe. Maybe not. But he's certainly an obstacle. A ghost that haunts the edges of everything Blaze and I are building.
I need to understand the ghost before I can exorcise it.
The taxi finally breaks free from traffic. Speeds toward the café where I'm meeting friends. The word feels strange even in my own head.
Friends. Such a generous term for women I've known for three months. Who only reached out after Blaze's mother posted that photo.
Amazing how visibility works. How proximity to fame transforms you in people's eyes.
The taxi stops. I pay with my phone. Step onto the sidewalk into afternoon sunshine.
They're already there. Three women at a corner table on the café patio. Waving enthusiastically when they spot me.
"Sophie!" Madison squeals before I even reach the table. "We saw the Instagram post!"
"Your boyfriend is absolutely gorgeous!" Tiffany adds. Eyes wide with impressed excitement. "How long have you been dating? Why didn't you tell us?"
The word boyfriend sits strangely on my tongue. Heavy with implications. Wrong in ways I can't articulate.
I want to correct them. Explain that Blaze and I aren't really official. That we're old friends reconnecting. That nothing's been defined or declared.
But the idea suits me. Boyfriend. Something permanent. Something real. Something that makes me matter.
"Recently," I smile instead. Settle into the empty chair they saved. "It's still new. We're taking things slow."
"Taking things slow with that?" Madison fans herself dramatically. "Girl, I would not have the self-control."
They laugh. Coo over photos I show them. Gush about how perfect we look together. Ask questions about how we met, what he's like, whether the rumors about hockey players are true.
I answer every question carefully. Reveal just enough to satisfy curiosity. Keep the important things locked away where they belong.
"What's he like though?" The third one, Jessica, finally speaks up. "Like, as a person? Athletes can be such dicks sometimes."
"He's sweet." The word comes easily. "Gentle. Not what you'd expect from someone who fights on ice for a living."
"And the other rumors?" Madison waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "About hockey players being... gifted?"
They dissolve into giggles. I laugh along. Play the blushing almost-girlfriend perfectly.
"A lady never tells." I wink. "But I'm not complaining."
More squeals. More laughter. They eat it up like candy.
Sophie basking in attention. That's what they see. A woman enjoying her moment in the spotlight.
They don't see the calculation underneath. The careful construction of every answer. The way I'm cataloging their reactions for future use.
I've never been popular. Not really. Not the way some women are born with charisma dripping from their pores.
In high school, I was invisible. The quiet girl in the back of class. Good grades but no presence. No one remembered me at reunions.
College was better. Blaze was there. My only real friend in a sea of acquaintances. He saw me when no one else bothered to look.
But then he transferred. Found Asher. Found whatever complicated thing they built together. And I faded back into obscurity.
Now I'm visible again. Admirable. Someone.
And these women who never would have noticed me six months ago are fighting for my attention. Hanging on my words. Wanting to be close to my glow.
I intend to keep it that way. Blaze makes me someone. His light reflects onto me. His name opens doors that would otherwise stay locked.
I'll be patient. Attentive. Everything he needs me to be. And eventually, Blaze’ll forget there was ever anyone else.
"So," Madison leans forward conspiratorially. "When do we get to meet him properly?"
I smile. Warm and gracious and completely calculated.
"Soon," I promise. "Very soon."
The afternoon stretches ahead. Full of gossip and laughter and women who think they're my friends.
I play my part perfectly. Just like always.