Jayce skates up next to me. “Your shot, old man.”
I grunt at his dig at my age, which I find hilarious. I’m not the oldest player on the team. Plus, I’m only twenty-six, but I noticed Jayce grins when he says it. So I’m taking it as a sign that he’s accepting my leadership as captain.
Moving the puck back and forth, I skate toward the crease, do my signature turn to make a slapshot, and miss. Several of the guys snicker.
Ethan and Payton glide up alongside me as I circle behind the net.
Paytonhands me a water bottle. “Drink up. You need a boost.”
Hot and frustrated, I yank my helmet off and douse my head while I try to figure out how to get my figurative one back into the game. Losing focus now would be a definite setback.
Ethan narrows his eyes at me. “Anything you want to share with the rest of the class?”
I glare at him. They’ve thrown comments at me all day, trying to finagle details about what happened after the game last night because they know I drove Sophie home. By the time I got back to Gabe’s place, the string of texts waiting for me was nearing almost fifty. I ignored all of them and went to bed.
Derek blows his whistle, giving us the signal to transition from drills to scrimmages.
Wade skates over and pulls his helmet off as he stops. “Well?”
Ethan and Payton shake their heads in unison.
Wade’s thick brows dive together over his nose. “Ah, come on, man. Give us something to hang our hats on.”
Payton flatlines his mouth. “He’s an absolute vault.”
While taking a long slug from what’s left of my water, I catch a glimpse of movement up in the seats behind the net. Sophie’s perched on the back of a seat with her camera trained on us. The tightness in my chest loosens, allowing me to fill my lungs with air again.
I stare right at her, knowing she can see me way better with that telephoto lens than I can see her. She lowers her camera and smiles at me.
Unfortunately, I forgot I’m surrounded by a bunch of nitwits who have followed the direction of my attention and are now ribbing me with light shoves and comments.
Any concern I have over my teammates’ witnessing our flirtation flies away faster than a puck on an icing call, and I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. I’ve fought the distracting memory of her tracing my lips, calling themsculpted, and the way she felt in my arms all day. But now, I let them have free rein in my head.
One of the guys makes kissing sounds—real mature. Good thing I didn’t see which one because he’d be making out with the plexiglass right about now. Wade waves at Sophie, then points to me, shaking his head. Then he gestures to himself and gives her a thumbs-up. I smack him in the breadbasket with my mitt.
He smirks at me. “Someone’s testy today.”
Sometimes this guy has the rizz of a rhino. “Give it a rest, Wade,” I growl.
Ethan leans in and whispers, “Glad to see you quit fighting it.”
I appreciate his discretion, but that doesn’t stop me from giving him a hard shove, propelling him backward toward the center of the ice.
He laughs as he glides away. “You know I was right.”
When I glance up to where Sophie was taking pictures, only empty seats greet me. Now I’m paranoid she’s upset about the way the guys were ribbing me about her. I wouldn’t blame her either. They were being total goofballs.
Before I shove my helmet back on, Gabe waves me over to the players’ bench.
He doesn’t say anything at first. That’s when I realize he’s waiting for the rest of the guys to join Derek by the net, putting them out of earshot.
“What’s up, Coach?” That tightness is back in my chest. This feels way too similar to how things went down that night when my last coach waved me over during the game to tell me about my mother’s accident.
He grins, sending a wave of relief through me. “I’m going to tell the rest of the guys after practice that it’s official—we’re a farm team for Tampa Bay Lightning. I wanted you to know first.”
“Because I’m the captain?”
He shakes his head. “No, because they’re looking at you.”
