10. Late-Night Fantasy
Chapter Ten
LATE-NIGHT FANTASY
~~Inez~~
I pride myself on my composure in all situations, but for tonight, fuck composure.
I leap to my feet and scream at the top of my lungs with the rest of the twenty thousand in this arena. The entire Barlowe suite is celebrating. You’d have thought we’d won the Cup.
I hug my friends and everyone else unfortunate enough to be standing nearby, even staff, and I’m so not a hugger. Or I wasn’t until now.
“We won!” Everly dances around the room with Michella. I won’t go that far. I’ve already exceeded my emotional display limit by screaming and hugging everyone within reach. Dancing is out of the question. I learned in my childhood that displays of emotion brought punishment and ridicule. Deep down I’m still that scared little girl who refuses to show weakness via emotions.
Regardless, I stand back, laugh, and grin along with the rest. Camden played a great game, and I’m thrilled for him. I can’t wait to congratulate my waiver pick. I stare down at the ice as he vaults over the boards and joins the rest of the team who’re lined up to acknowledge Roman’s incredible saves.
“Your boy had two assists today,” Mr. B notes. I go cold inside, but I’m being paranoid. No one suspects anything regarding Camden and me because there’s nothing going on. My guilt is firmly based in my forbidden attraction to him but not any actual actions I’ve taken.
“My boy?” I pretend to be clueless.
“Yes, Camden Hale. He looked pretty damn good tonight.”
“He did.” I relax a little.
“This team prides itself on turning misfits and rejects into a cohesive team of unselfish players. It’s rewarding to see it come together.”
“It certainly is.” I haven’t had a chance to talk to him in a long while, and I take advantage of the current situation to ask him about something else. “How’s Shelby doing? I’ve been buried in work and haven’t had time to check in with her. I assume if she needs anything she’ll reach out.”
“She’s doing well, but she’s not you. Addison is helpful and encouraging, along with the other staff. We’re handling the transition without too many bumps in the road.”
“That’s a relief.” I don’t acknowledge his compliment. Mr. B and I had a very close working relationship, and Shelby doesn’t have the years of experience I have with the Barlowes, both personally and business-wise.
“And how are you doing?” He studies me pointedly. I know he wants nothing but the truth, so I give it to him, though not as bluntly as I normally would.
“I’m hanging in there. So much to learn. I feel like I’m running as fast as I can.”
“It’ll get better. I promise.”
“Has Brian mentioned anything about me?”
Mr. B turns away before answering my question. “He’s satisfied with your work.”
“But I’m not his first choice,” I finish for him.
“You aren’t, but Brian’s a fair man, and he’ll support you as best he can. The rest is on you.”
“I know, and I appreciate that about him.” I glance down at the now-empty rink. “I’d better get downstairs. Brian likes us to keep a finger on the pulse of the team.”
“They should be riding high tonight. We’re so close to a playoff spot, I can taste it. All that matters is we get in. Then it’s an entirely new season.”
A few minutes later, Everly, Michella, and I step out of the elevator on the player facilities level. I leave my friends waiting for their guys in the family room and make my way down the hall. The locker room is crowded and rowdy. Reporters, both familiar and ones I haven’t seen before, mill around the area. I guess when we win some of them crawl out of the woodwork.
I don’t bat an eye at the guys in various stages of undress. After all, I’m a professional, and I’ve seen half-naked and naked men before. No big deal, or it wasn’t until…I turn to survey the room and see Camden. My heart pounds in my chest, and desire hums in my gut. I lick my lips and rub my sweaty palms on my pants.
Holy freaking crap .
Camden towels off at his locker. He has his back to me and is stark naked. My greedy gaze takes in those broad shoulders before lingering on his muscular thighs and rounded ass. Every guy in here is a perfect specimen of toned body, but Camden is the only one who holds my attention. I can’t drag my eyes away. He doesn’t turn around until he’s pulled on his underwear. I take note of the bulge between his legs, and I feel my face burn. I’m behaving like a horny teenager, and I should be ashamed of my voyeurism. Luckily, he doesn’t notice my interest. The team is too busy celebrating to pay attention.
A ruckus erupts behind me and distracts me from this drool-worthy man. Composing myself, I turn toward the noise. A group of reporters gathers around Drakos with Aria right in the middle of them.
“No, I fucking wasn’t involved in that brawl.”
“I have it from a reliable source that you were and deserted your team as soon as the heat was on.” Aria holds her phone up to his mouth. I assume she’s recording his answers. Panic rises, and I glance around frantically for Brian. I don’t see him. Damage control is on me.
“Well, your source can eat shit for all I care. I left before any of that started. Maybe you should get your facts straight before accusing someone of things they didn’t do.”
“Testy, aren’t we? Feeling guilty about lying?”
“F—”
I push past the reporters and step between the two combatants. Drakos is shirtless but still wearing his hockey pants. I point at Drakos, indicating enough is enough.
“Aria, let’s have a word.”
Aria hesitates, but my take-no-prisoners tone has her following me into the hallway.
I turn to face her once we’re away from any prying eyes. “I don’t appreciate you needling my players about alleged rumors you can’t back up.”
“I’m not needling Drakos, but as a reporter, it’s my job to dig for the truth. He’s lying, and you know it as well as I do.”
“No, I do not. Drakos was not involved in the altercation. The team has watched countless videos from that night, as has the league. If he’d been part of it, we’d know.”
“Or you’re covering for him as he’s one of the Icehawks’ premier players.”
“We don’t cover for players who behave badly. That’s not what this team is about. I respectfully request that you stop targeting Drakos.”
“Targeting? Is his ego so fragile that he can’t take a little criticism and negative press?” Aria levels me with a triumphant smirk.
“No, but your behavior borders on harassment.”
She laughs, not the least bit intimidated. Then she sobers and studies me with a calculated stare that raises my hackles. “In the interest of goodwill between All Hockey News and this team, why don’t you do an exclusive interview regarding your new position with the team?”
“Will you back off Drakos?” Against my better judgment. I sense a trap, but I have to distract this woman from further harassing my players.
“It’s my job to report on the facts from reliable sources.”
“It’s not your job to gossip about a player’s personal life.”
She snorts. “It is if he makes his personal life public. Besides, my readers love the dirt on a gorgeous guy like that, and he plays into it. He’s an attention whore.”
“Is that what you think? Do you really believe Drakos is enjoying your special form of provocation?”
“It’s not provocation. It’s news, and I give the people what they want.” Aria consults her phone. “When are you free? Tomorrow works best for me.”
This woman is pushy and getting on my nerves. I can see why Drakos is having a hard time ignoring her. I haven’t developed a plan for dealing with her yet, and that’ll take some time. I have to be super careful what I say in front of this woman. She’s famous for twisting words to create maximum drama. Perhaps an interview will build a rapport with her. I don’t have much to lose.
“My schedule is tight. I’m fully booked for the next few weeks.”
“I’m at your service whenever you’re available.”
“I have one more requirement before I agree to this interview.”
Aria cocks her head and waits.
“I get to approve the final draft.”
“Not happening.” She crosses her arms over her chest, and her chin juts out stubbornly.
We’re playing a power game, and I can’t back down, yet Drakos needs to be out of her crosshairs even if for a short while. “I have the power to limit your access to the team.”
She narrows her gaze and watches me closely, most likely looking for signs of weakness. I glare right back at her.
“So do I get to approve the final draft?” I call her bluff, but I’m bluffing too. I have no idea if Brian would support banning her from the locker room and practice facility. It’s highly likely he won’t.
“Fine. Have it your way. But I’m not changing everything. You can request up to five changes. That’s it.”
“Deal,” I say. We don’t shake on it. Instead, Aria leaves me without another word. I breathe out a long sigh and lean up against the wall. Disaster averted for now.
“You’re playing with fire with that one.”
I jump slightly and turn to face Camden. “I know.”
“The team’s going to the Portland Puck to celebrate the win. Are you coming?”
“I don’t know yet. I have things to finish up here first.” I can’t hang out with the team as I once did, but I don’t want to say no either. Once in a while wouldn’t hurt. I’m fully aware I’m now in this boss-employee relationship with the team, and I can’t be one of the crowd as I once was.
“Your friends will be there.” Camden’s pleading smile warms my insides and makes it difficult to say no.
“I’ll try.” Over his shoulder, I spot Brian standing at the end of the hall. He’s watching us with an unreadable expression. “I have to go now.”
“Sure.”
I hurry away from Camden and approach Brian. “Great game.”
“Thanks for intervening between Aria and Drakos. He was on the verge of losing it.”
“I know. I agreed to an interview in the hopes I can establish a friendly working relationship with her instead of an adversarial one.”
“Is that wise?”
“Probably not.”
“Be careful. She’s got a nose for sniffing out trouble or causing trouble where there wasn’t any.” He doesn’t wait for my response. Instead, he barrels down on Coach and leaves me alone to ponder his last words.
I’m fully aware he doesn’t approve of my friendships with the Barlowes, Michella, and some of the players, but they’re my friends. Mr. B doesn’t expect me to dump them because of this job. Surely Brian doesn’t either. I’ll be careful and only have one beer.
I wonder what he’d say if he knew how much I lusted after the player I claimed off waivers? If I don’t succumb to my cravings, he’ll never know. And neither will anyone else. And of course, I won’t do anything to endanger my job or the team.
Camden will be a late-night fantasy in the privacy of my bedroom and nothing else.