Hot Damn (Hot as Puck #3)

10. Beckett

Beckett

I t’s late when we get to the hotel. We’re all wired, pumped from another pre-season win, and I can tell a few of my teammates are going to hit the bar. As captain I should probably join them, but all I want to do is get to my room and call Whit.

I can’t believe I left my phone behind when we left for the arena. Granted I was a little distracted when I couldn’t find my lucky underwear but I’m never without my phone just in case Whit needs me. Especially when she’s not traveling with me, which she’s done less and less now that she’s in high school.

Before we left Toronto, I had full confidence in her staying with a teammate’s family overnight. Jenny Ruston was the perfect person to take care of Whit for me after Mama Dot passed. It helped that Whit attended the same school as the Rustons’ sons. The boys treated Whit like a little sister and even when I wasn’t away, we spent a good deal of time with them.

Cory Ruston is the closest thing to a best friend I’ve ever had and leaving him and his family behind when we moved to Baton Rouge is proving harder than I thought it would be.

“Hey, Bex, you getting a celebratory drink with us?”

I should. But I need to touch base with Whit. Glancing at my watch I see it’s later than her usual bedtime and if I called now I’d probably wake her…

“Yeah, I’ll have one but we’ve got an early flight out in the morning so we shouldn’t make it a late one.”

The need to talk to Whit and the promise I made Coach to connect with the members of the Rogues org compete but I have to remember my girl is almost an adult and if she needed me and I didn’t answer she’d have found another way to get hold of me.

Stepping into the hotel bar I see it’s packed with Rogues and I smile. Even if there were some fans that wanted to hang out with players, there’s no room for them to get in here.

I lift my chin at Coach Alcott and Oakley. They’re sitting at a two-seat high table near the entrance. The vantage spot gives them a view of everyone inside and anyone entering and I wonder if it’s so they can keep an eye on the players.

At the beginning of the season, when everyone rolled into Baton Rouge, our GM, Oakley, Coach Watts, and Coach Alcott, along with the rest of the coaching staff made their expectations clear. They don’t want any scandal outside of what the franchise already caused.

Their plan is to concentrate on winning and they want nothing to detract from that. The older, more experienced guys on the team, particularly the married ones, aren’t going to be a problem, but there are a few younger players. A couple of them mere boys, who might prove to be a problem.

Coach asked me to keep an eye on things, give some of the younger guys a guiding hand in navigating the sometimes treacherous waters of professional sportsmanship.

I’m sure he thinks because I’ve kept myself out of the spotlight other than on the ice, I know how to handle the attention, the sometimes over the top adoration hockey players receive, and by adoration I’m pretty sure he means puck bunnies.

I’ve never dealt with any of it. Even in my younger days I steered clear of the late-night partying because my sole focus was on playing well to keep my position on the team and raising Whit .

I’m not sure how much help I’ll be but I’ll put in the effort because the more I look at where I am in life, where Whit is, the more I realize this is my last team. I signed a three-year, no trade contract, and at that point I’ll be thirty-six. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play that long.

“Bex!” Tasman Culler calls me over. He’s our top defense player and he’s sitting with Cutter Jepson and Mike Ferro, two other defensemen.

“Great game, guys. We couldn’t have won it without you,” I say as I pull out a chair at their table. “Let me buy you a round.”

“No need. Our illustrious owner and her husband have opened a tab. We each get two drinks then they’re shutting down the bar,” Tas explains.

“Oh, I didn’t realize they were doing that.”

“She got the hotel to open the bar just for us. It’s normally closed this late on a weeknight,” Jep adds.

“Explains them perched on that table by the door.”

“Right?” Mike pours a beer from the pitcher in the middle of the table and hands me the glass. “And the win isn’t only because of us. You were smokin’ out there tonight, Bex.”

“I did have a good game. But it’s not just on me either. I think we’re meshing as a team and as much as on paper we don’t look like we’d play as good as we have been, I think it’s because we all want to play well. We’re making more effort to learn each other’s tells and to be honest, I think the way the org treats us, and I’m including the coaches, has a lot to do with our success so far. Not that we should get complacent at all.”

“Definitely not!” Tas slams his glass on the table. “Complacency loses games.”

Jep and Mike lift their glasses up over the middle of our table and I quickly do the same.

“To the Rogues,” Jep offers as a toast.

Tas joins in and as we each take a sip the sound of clapping fills the room. All our heads turn in the direction of the noise and see Oakley James standing on a chair, her hand on Coach’s shoulder for support.

“Now that I have your attention I’d like to say a few things.” Her eyes scan the room, making sure everyone is looking her direction before she continues. “We’re kicking pre-season butt but we can’t sit on our butts because we’ve won a few games.”

The fact her words echo our sentiments doesn’t surprise me. After my conversation with Whit the other night, I did some research into the four women who make up KAW.

They’re remarkable. Each of them comes from money, none of them have to work a day in their life, and yet they went balls to the wall on their Rogue sportswear brand and are still doing it with innovative production facilities and materials.

And now they’ve turned that drive to succeed to their NHL team.

“I want to thank everyone for their efforts. I know you’ve all given everything you have to this team so far and I hope you continue to do that going forward. If you have any concerns or need help with anything, professionally or personally, my door is always open to you. Same goes for any member of staff, from your coaches to management to arena staff to front office staff. We’re all in this together!”

A round of cheers goes up and most of us raise a glass when Oakley raises hers.

“I know this is not a new phrase, I know it’s been the motto of a business that has been around for a few years but as you’ve seen, that business is tightly woven with this one, so…” She holds her glass higher. “Go Rogue!”

The chant of Go Rogue is loud enough to raise the roof and the smiles on the faces around me bring one to my own. I feel a connection to this team I haven’t with any other. Maybe it’s the underdog vibe or the dirty stepchild in the corner attitude some have had toward the new franchise.

Whatever it is, I want to get to know these people.

I know a few from playing with them or against them over the years, but some of the younger guys are new faces and I understand why Coach would ask me to be a guiding influence.

And standing here, surrounded by them, I want to do that. I’m no longer resigned to doing it. I want to do it.

I want to build close relationships with these men

I want to build us into a team—a force to be reckoned with.

I want to build this team into a Cup winner.

I know we can do it. Whether we do it this season or next doesn’t matter. We will hold that Cup.

Oakley, Blake, Natalie, and Cami will hold that Cup.

And they’ll do it with their heads high.

“All right, all right. Quiet down.” Oakley smiles out at us and even from this distance I can see her eyes are wet. “Win or lose, you’re all the best players I could ask for and I’m honored you agreed to join us on this journey. I know it hasn’t been easy, and there have been some not-nice things said about us as a team, and individually, but , we are a team, we’ll stick together, you always have someone at your back, and we’ll keep winning games. Now drink up and get to bed. Our plane leaves at seven, I want everyone out of their room and on the bus by six.”

A round of cheers and groans echoes off the ceiling and I have to grin. I’ve never played for a team that felt this close. It’s strange, a little uncomfortable, and yet it feels right.

I walk toward the door as I finish my beer. I make sure to acknowledge each player as they leave, some with a chin lift, some a few words, but when I’m the last one besides the coaches and management, I step forward and offer my hand to Oakley.

“I want to thank you for everything you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing more than any other owner,” she says as she shakes my hand.

“You’re wrong. I’ve played for three teams over my career, so I know what owners do and don’t do. You’re a cut above what I’m used to, what I’ve observed in others. Thank you. Some of these guys know different, some haven’t a clue that this org isn’t the normal. As the captain of these men, I want you to know we appreciate what you’re doing and you have our support, our loyalty, our gratitude.”

“All I ask is you give me your best on the ice and embrace the Rogues as an extension of your family.”

“You can count on it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an early wake up and I’d hate to be late and disappoint my boss.”

“Say hi to Whit for me and tell her to join us in the owner’s box next home game.”

“I’ll tell her but now that she’s not keeping a low profile, she’s talking about sitting by the glass.”

“Well, if she wants to sit there, I’ll join her. She’s a remarkable young woman. You should be proud of her.”

“You’re not the only person to point that out recently. I am proud of her. She’s the best thing in my life, no offense.”

“None taken. Now go. I’ve got to close out the tab in this place.”

“Already done,” our GM says as she moves beside her. “I’m heading up. See you all tomorrow.”

“You still heading to Atlanta?” Oakley asks before the GM can leave.

“Yes. I’ll be back in Baton Rouge by tomorrow night, morning after at the latest.”

“Okay. Call if you need anything.”

“I will.” She shoots a smile my way. “Good game, Beckett.”

I’m surprised enough to stumble over my words. “T-th-thanks.”

A hand claps my shoulder and I turn to see Coach Alcott. “I’ll echo her words. Good game. And thanks for doing as I asked.”

“I’m not sure how good I’ll be at guiding some of these guys, but I’ll do my best with that the same as I’ll do my best on the ice.”

“Good man. Now go talk to your daughter. I know you would have preferred to do that than come in here.”

I smile. “Yeah, but I need to remember Whit isn’t a kid anymore. She’s almost at the point of making decisions without discussing them with me, never mind letting me weigh in on them.”

“I’m told they grow up fast and if I hadn’t had the last eighteen months with Micky I wouldn’t believe it, but man, that kid is growing like a weed.”

“And eating like a horse!” Oakley adds.

“Enjoy this time. Before you know it, you’ll be going over college choices with him.”

Coach frowns and Oakley shivers before saying, “I’m not ready for that.”

I laugh. “Ready or not, they take life at their own pace.”

“I’m sure they do. And maybe we can convince Micky to stick close to home when the time comes.”

“I’m trying to do that with Whit but then I want her to have everything I never did and that includes going to the college of her choice.”

“I don’t envy you your situation but you can bet I’ll be taking notes.” Coach glances at Oakley. “Hopefully Micky isn’t our only child to navigate that time with.”

“On that note, I’m out of here. See you in the morning.”

Following words with action, I head out of the bar and across the lobby. The place is quiet compared to earlier and I’m the only one on the elevator when it’s rising to my floor.

The corridor is quiet and when I slip into my room and switch on the light, I’m glad I have the room to myself. I offered to room with one of the younger players but Coach told me I’d be on my own this first away trip. Come regular season and he’ll be switching me between players—all of us will—to help build the connections between us.

It’s not something I’ve done before, but then like I told Oakley, this team isn’t run like any other I’ve played for. Or heard about. She’s building camaraderie more like a family unit and I have to admit it’s working so far. This team is closer than any I’ve played with or against and I have to conclude it has a lot to do with our undefeated standing .

Not that I expect that winning streak to continue all season but I think we’re looking good to be at the top of our conference this year. And I cross my fingers that means we make the playoffs.

Spotting my phone on the floor by my bag I walk over and scoop it up. As soon as the screen lights up, the band I wasn’t aware of around my chest loosens.

There’s a text from Whit.

W: Congrats on another win! You had a great game! Love you!

Smiling, I reply knowing she’s probably asleep.

Love you too, Whitbee. See you soon!

Besides Whit’s message I’ve got a missed call and a voicemail. I don’t recognize the number and in spite of being tired and ready to call it a night, I dial in to my voicemail and retrieve the message.

“Hi, Beckett, it’s Cami. I tried to call but you’re obviously playing. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m at your house with Whitney”—my heart jerks into my throat—“She’s okay, fine. Nothing wrong with her. I promise. But there was an incident I’d like to talk to you about it. Can you call me on this number when you get the chance? Doesn’t matter how late. Okay, thanks. Bye.”

With palms sweating and my heart in my throat, I hit the unknown number from the missed call.