Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

10. Theo

I should have been concentrating on the earnest questions flying at me from defensemen Young and Lavoie, both sitting across the table from me. Riding high on Saturday night’s win, they were both keen to pick my brain.

I sipped my beer distractedly. They were trying to build a rapport. If I had been able to pay them proper attention, it would have probably been endearing. They’d taken the philosophy that defense/goalie relationships were essential to the team’s success to heart.

I appreciated a good hustle. They wanted to grind their way off the fourth line. I respected that. It paid to figure out that there was no way around putting in the hard work for the thing you wanted most.

Tonight was not the night for me to play mentor, though. I’d agreed to come out to an informal gathering at the team’s favorite post-game bar at our captain’s request. They’d been so welcoming to me, and I was trying to make the effort to get to know my teammates.

The problem was one of my teammates had chosen this bar for his hangout spot as well. So instead of listening to the two keen defensemen trying to hold my attention, my eyes were glued to the high-top table across the bar on Andrews and Indie.

I was sitting at the far end of the team’s table. On either side of me were Michaels and Campbell, team captain and alternate captain, respectively. It was a bit like being under the welcome wagon microscope or being held captive. I wasn’t sure which yet.

They were doing what good leaders should, trying to help me integrate into my new team, especially after a surprise trade like mine was.

It might have even been nice, except I couldn’t concentrate for shit. The only thing I saw was my sister’s best friend sitting with my teammate across the bar.

They might as well have been the only other people in the room, seeing as I had already cataloged every detail of their interaction.

Were they on a fucking date? Just the thought of it had the back of my neck heating with the effort of suppressing my shock and protective instincts.

The kid was twenty-one years old and about as wide-eyed innocent as they came.

Indie, on the other hand, was the definition of beauty and grace. Her espresso-colored hair fell like a sheet of water down her back. Her perfect facial features were mostly hidden from me as she focused her attention on Andrews.

And that was just what you could see from the outside. Did Andrews know that she was the smartest person I knew? I may or may not have created a LinkedIn profile just so I could see what she’d been up to over the past six years. My mom had been a brilliant woman and would have been so impressed with all that Indie had accomplished.

I was trying very hard not to think about where that landed me on the cringe scale .

She could have easily pursued a career in academics with her dual degrees: one in Business Administration and the other in Social Welfare. She’d been a Presidential Scholar recipient, for Christ’s sake.

So what in the hell could Andrews have to say that would hold her interest like that? Her eyebrows scrunched adorably as she listened carefully to whatever that little doofus was saying.

I mean, he had an inch of height on me, so he wasn’t that little, but he was just a baby. He wouldn’t know how to handle a woman like Indie.

Not the way I could.

Shit. Where had that thought come from?

My forearm tightened on the tabletop as I squeezed the beer bottle in my grip, watching him slide his hand across the table and cover hers. That sweet smile that she hid from everyone appeared on her face.

People had to work for that smile. Most people saw the snark Indie had developed in her mid-teens and took her at face value. I remembered her when it took me a year to coax a genuine smile from her face when Emery had first invited her over.

So what the fuck had Andrews done to be rewarded with it?

I forced my eyes back to my beer, and I spun the half-full bottle between my hands. I had to stop looking at them before someone misunderstood my instinct to look out for Indie as something else.

“Yao?”

I looked up and saw Michaels and Campbell staring at me with expectation on their faces.

“I’m sorry, what?” Clearly, they knew I hadn’t been paying attention.

They chuckled good-naturedly at my lapse in attention, probably chalking it up to post-practice fatigue. Coach Reyes did not pull punches, no matter how we performed in our last game. Win or lose, he kicked our asses in practice every time.

My muscles were certainly protesting all the contortions I’d put them through this morning. The throb in my right knee told me I’d gone too far in trying to prove myself to my new team. I needed to save that shit for game nights. My body took every opportunity to remind me that I wasn’t a young man by hockey standards anymore.

The deep ache had me reaching one hand down to press on my thigh under the table, seeking some sort of relief.

I lamented not taking some acetaminophen before leaving the locker room. Not that it did much for me, but some days, it could take the edge off the worst of the pain. I wouldn’t allow myself to take anything stronger.

“No worries, man. Campbell here just asked how you are settling in. Can’t be easy after so many years in Vancouver.” Michaels didn’t seem to mind filling me in.

“Can’t say that I expected a trade this late in my career. After a dozen years with the Frost , I thought I’d do the impossible and stay there until I had to think about the dreaded R-word.”

Not too many players wanted to even think about retiring. And I certainly didn’t either.

Pain, however, had a way of forcing a person to consider things they never wanted to. The sliding scale of discomfort to stabbing pain was my daily reminder that the choice to begin the next stage of my life might be taken out of my hands at any moment.

Even though I’d known for a year that I’d need knee surgery, I was no closer to figuring out what was next for me.

Money aside, I’d literally only ever been good at hockey. What if there wasn’t another dream for me to chase out there? What if I never found something I could be passionate about?

I’d tied my identity to hockey since my mid-teens. Who was I without it?

The thunk of an arm across my back jolted me out of my existential crisis. Campbell, the more tactile of the two, gripped my shoulder and gave me a hard pat on the bicep.

“You’da missed out on our sparkling personalities, then. What a loss that would have been.”

Michaels reached around my back to give his alternate captain an affectionate shove. Campbell let his arm drop.

“Man, way to ruin a moment. I’m trying to be all supportive and shit here. Can’t you pretend to be serious for a minute?”

Rubbing his arm as if Michaels had really hurt him, Campbell gave him an exaggerated pout.

“Aw, Cap, I was bein’ serious. Who would want to miss out on all this?” He gestured to all of himself.

The warmth of his slight Southern accent was contagious. A small smile formed on my lips before I could stop it. God knows it didn’t seem like Campbell needed any encouragement in the joker department.

“Nah, it’s all good, guys. I was too comfortable in Vancouver. It’s not a bad thing to shake things up. My game’s going to be better for it.” The words were ash on my tongue. I struggled to imagine successfully integrating myself with the Tempests.

“Shit, Yao. Your game gets much better and we’ll lose you to another trade before the end of the season. It was a stroke of lightning that management got you in the first place,” Campbell chuckled, knocking my arm gently with his elbow.

Nodding my thanks, I couldn’t lie. I didn’t mind his praise. Coming from a damn good player, it meant something, especially since a constant undercurrent of worry had plagued me all of last season.

Until I figured out what I wanted to happen next, I couldn’t bear the sense of purpose I’d found in hockey being ripped away from me.

“Yeah, also, Campbell doesn’t like anyone to take the attention off him. He’s a bit precious that way.” The captain’s shoulders shook with laughter at his friend’s expense.

It was clear that these two had a strong bond. It took a bit of the pressure off my chest to know that they could have this after only a few years. It boded well for the rest of the team being welcoming too.

“Alright. Enough of the support shit talk. Tell us, Yao, you got a girl back in Vancouver? Or San Jose—that’s where you’re from, right? Or a guy, maybe? Both? I’m definitely down for hearing about all the kinky shit you wanna share.” Campbell widened his eyes and put his chin on his fists as if I was going to spill all the information I’d never shared with the public.

“Knock it off, knucklehead.” Michaels shoved Campbell behind my back again. “Not everyone wants to share their private shit in public. Nor do they use a megaphone to declare their hookups like someone else at this table.”

“Yeah, Lavoie. Stop talking up your one-night stands in the locker room. Have some consideration.” Campbell poked the young defenseman, who had been caught up in conversation with some of the other players across the table.

“Huh, what?” Poor guy was confused. He was also a very reserved person. Campbell was being an idiot.

“Never mind, Lavoie. Ignore this joker, we’re cutting him off.” Michaels gave our young teammate a reassuring nod before turning back to his alternate captain. “You shit. Don’t drag innocent bystanders into your hijinks. You’ll give the rookies ulcers from trying to keep up with your nonsense.”

“Aw, you wound me, Captain. This is just soda. It’s cheat night.” He held up his glass. “Furthermore, are you referring to moi? I am the paragon of virtue on this team.”

“You are the poster child of too many in-game concussions, is what you are.” Michaels laughed.

“But seriously.” Campbell was not deterred by our captain’s interference. “You missin’ someone, Yao?”

Though it took a convoluted route to get back to me, I had no problem with his original question. I taped my stick in pride colors for anyone I’d grown up with who hadn’t felt welcome in a locker. And as an adult in a position of influence, I proudly wore anything related to pride for all the other kids and teens who deserved to know there were people in this league that supported them.

Thankfully, the league had allowed us to continue using Pride Tape on our sticks, having backtracked on a previous ban. Not that it would have stopped me, regardless. I’d pay a fucking fine every time.

It was nobody’s business but my own. And it sure as shit wouldn’t hurt to have more 2LGTBQIA+ representation in any environment, but especially ours.

I stepped down off my mental soapbox.

“Nah. I’m not seeing anyone. My life’s been all about hockey for so long. It hasn’t been on my radar.”

They both nodded as they understood the sacrifices we all had to make. Though it certainly didn’t sound like Campbell was hurting for company.

As if on cue, Campbell stood. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I will be on my way to find a lovely lady to offer the pleasure of my company tonight.”

Just as he made to leave the table, Michaels called out to him. “That’s a pretty big call to make if you’re calling anything ‘pleasure’ in relation to yourself. Are you sure you can put your money where your mouth is? ”

Campbell, not missing a beat, whacked him upside the head in a marginally friendly manner.

“Watch me. See ya, fuckers.” He gave us a backward wave as he headed over to the bar.

The captain gave me his full attention, catching me as I took a quick glance over at Indie and Andrews again. Their heads bent toward each other across the table, the conversation looking more intimate by the second.

My neck burned at being caught.

“You got something going on with Indie Layne? Because the way you’re looking at her, you might start beating your chest any minute now.” He eyed me carefully.

“No, man. Nothing going on with her. She’s my baby sister’s best friend. We kinda grew up together. She’s new to the city too, and I’m just looking out for her the way I would for Emery.”

His gaze lingered on the couple across the bar for a moment, as if analyzing the dynamic between them.

“Like a sister, huh? Con, I mean, Andrews is a good guy, dude. You don’t have to worry there. He’s as loyal as they come, with a good heart. She’s in good hands with him.”

He radiated skepticism at my claim of brotherly concern.

“He’s just a kid, though,” I growled. “I can’t imagine what she sees in him.”

That was a lie. Andrews was a good-looking guy, objectively, as well as from the daggers in the gazes of some of the patrons of the bar directed at Indie. He’d shown himself to be a great teammate from our interactions so far. Didn’t mean I had to like him for Indie.

I didn’t allow myself to admit that I would hate anyone looking at Indie that way.

Michaels’s voice was low when he replied, “He’s twenty-one, Yao. Plenty old enough to know what he wants.”

I forced a sip of beer down my throat. Keeping my eyes off her was becoming torture. I had to get out of here before I did something stupid like warn Andrews off her.

I had no right to interfere with her dating life. Indie wouldn’t tolerate it, and Emery would seethe at my nerve. I’d just started repairing things with Emery after the trade shitshow. I couldn’t risk it.

It was physically painful to turn my body in the opposite direction from them and back to the two defensemen. I asked an inane question to start them going again and let their chatter wash over me, though I couldn’t help but notice the extra bit of scrutiny from the captain for the remainder of the night.

I forbade myself from looking at her anymore. Even when I saw them get up from their table in my peripheral, I kept my eyes on my teammates.

This fixation on Indie was getting out of hand.

With my future up in the air after this season, I couldn’t afford to add more complications by adding Indie Layne to the mix.

I needed to keep my head—and dick—between the pipes on the ice and not on a gorgeous distraction from my past.