Page 64 of In His Skates

Iroll over, half asleep, stretching my arm to pull Leigh closer to my body. Her side of the bed is empty. I lift my head, opening my eyes, but a curtain of hair blocks the view. My heart leaps to my throat. Fuck. I jerk to a sitting position, touching my face—Leigh’s face.

“No!” I jump out of bed and run out of the room. “Leigh!”

I don’t see any signs of her. I wince from the burning in my eyes. Once again, I went to bed wearing contact lenses. I don’t remove them this time. I have to find out where Leigh went. Her phone is gone, but I see mine on the kitchen counter, right where I ate her pussy last night. Did I fucking dream that we returned to our bodies and that we fucked our brains out in celebration?

There’s a message waiting for me. It’s from Leigh. She went for a drive. I don’t need to imagine what she’s feeling right now because I’m there with her. This beyond sucks. I don’t fucking understand. Why didn’t the switch stick? What are we doing wrong?

I look at my emails real quick to check the practice schedule. I usually have that memorized, but with everything that’s been going on, it’s like I’m stuck in a bad dream.

Son of a bitch. There’s one happening right now.

I run back to Leigh’s room to change, then book out of her house like a bat from hell. My destination? Merchant Arena. I have no idea what I plan to do once I get there, though. It isn’t like I can tell Coach Edwards that I’m stuck in Leigh’s body. Maybe I can come up with an excuse for my absence.

I drive like a maniac, and it’s a miracle that I don’t get pulled over. I’m glad Leigh drove her own car because my team ID is in mine. Without it, I wouldn’t be granted access to the building.

I manage to get through a few areas that are unmanned, and I only need to scan my card. But when I try to sneak into the team’s section, a security guard stops me. “Sorry, miss. This area is restricted.”

I turn to him and flash a bright smile. “Oh, Keanu said I could watch his practice.”

His eyes bug out. “You’re Leigh Matthews.”

“Yes, I am. And Coach Edwards and I are old friends,” I lie, hoping to convince the man to let me through. “If you want, I can take a selfie with you.”

The man blushes, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Come on. He’s in his sixties. “Oh no. Selfies are for the young. You can go ahead.”

“Thank you. I really appreciate it!”

Man, I wonder what else I could get away with in Leigh’s body if I just smiled sweetly at people.

I find the dressing room empty, which means everyone is already on the ice. Shit. The thought freezes me on the spot. I’m too late, and no one called me to yell at me. There aren’t any text messages from Simon either. That doesn’t make any sense. I look inside the dressing room again, more specifically, my bench. My duffel bag is there, and my shoes as well.

Fuck a duck. Leigh came for practice.

My pulse goes from zero to the speed of light in two seconds. I rush out of the dressing room and straight for the tunnel as a force of habit. But when I see Coach Edwards shouting instructions to players on the ice, I stop in my tracks. He can’t see me here. I’m not a hockey player on his team.

I retrace my steps and head to the sitting area. But I don’t want anyone to see me—technically, this is a closed practice—so I pick a seat in the last row and sit low, trying to hide behind the chair in front of me.

Leigh is on the ice, and she’s running a play with Simon. I expect disaster to strike at any second, but she actually manages to keep possession of the puck. Coach yells at her to move her feet faster, and surprisingly, she does.

Kit, one of our defensemen, sneaks behind her and knocks the puck off her stick. It was a simple move that I’d be able to prevent. Jack taunts Leigh, making me see red. He’s going after Leigh, thinking she’s me, because he’s still mad that I “stole” her from him. He’s such a douche.

I expect Leigh to return to the bench, but instead, she goes after him. Coach yells at her, but she ignores him. I sit straighter in the chair, forgetting that I’m supposed to stay hidden. She skates superfast and catches up with Jack, cross-checking his back and knocking him down. I almost shout in celebration.

Take that, sucker.

Jack gets back on his feet, his body language telling me he’s ready for a fight. “What the hell, Keanu!”

“Don’t ‘what the hell’ me. It’s not my fault you went down easily.”

Simon gets in between them. “Guys, remember we’re on the same team.”

“Santori! Get on the bench now!” Coach Edwards shouts.

I wince, feeling the blow of that order as if it was directed at me. But Leigh doesn’t seem to care that she’s about to get chewed out by Coach. I’m surprised that he doesn’t say anything else as Leigh sits on the bench. Simon joins her after a moment, and they have a conversation. I wonder what they’re talking about.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to read the message and see it’s Dad’s assistant with the details of tomorrow’s dinner. Fuck. I completely forgot about that. I can’t let Leigh have dinner with my father alone. She doesn’t know what kind of asshole he is. I reply saying I’m bringing my girlfriend and that she should update the reservation.

I have a smile on my lips when I put my phone back into my pocket. It can’t be because I’m happy about the prospect of spending time with the man. My good mood has everything to do with referring to Leigh as my girlfriend. I know we’re only pretending to date, but what if we made it real after we fix this mess?