Not A Chance (Heartstrings #2)

15. Indie

My role on the communications team had been wholly based in Toronto, leaving the more senior members of the team to travel with the players.

That suited me fine. I’d had enough business trips with my parents as a child to never want to stay in some random hotel for a night just to pack up again without ever seeing the city where I’d landed.

But here I was. With some awful flu virus making the rounds in the office, I was the last one standing this week. And that meant I’d been ordered to fill in for one of the team members who usually traveled with the team.

I felt horrible about leaving Gizmo, but Jermaine’s wife, Amy, had offered to stay at my place with their Morkie, whom Giz adored. She’d argued that I was doing her the favor by letting her dog-sit. Since, as she put it, she’d had enough of Jermaine’s “man cold.”

Dog mom guilt aside, I’d boarded the bus for the ride back to the hotel where the team was staying, I kept my head bent down toward the iPad in my lap. The last thing I wanted to do was make eye contact with Theo in a confined space. I let my hair fall over my shoulders, completing my little bubble of isolation.

The overall mood of the night was subdued as the team had lost 3-2 against Montreal.

My heart clenched a little at the thought of Theo losing for the first time this season. I wondered how being a goalie factored into his sense of responsibility for game losses. People could talk all day about hockey being a team sport, but Theo seemed to give all of himself to his game. I couldn’t help but think he might burden himself more than was necessary.

My throat tightened at how hard that must be.

I didn’t know why I cared so much. I felt my forehead to see if I was coming down with something. Maybe that could explain the tightness in my muscles and my breathing becoming a little more difficult.

Theo was not my concern. We’d done an admirable job of being professional so far.

Professional meant that I avoided him at every possible opportunity, pre- and post-games.

Luckily, on the regular-season game nights, the media seemed to want to talk to the captain the most in terms of players, as if he had some magical insight into their current standing in the league. Then, when they wanted fodder for their social media highlights, they asked for Campbell, and he usually left them with something gossip-worthy.

And if Theo sometimes looked like he wanted to say something to me in the hallways of the arena, I’d buried my head in my tablet, pretending not to notice.

Maybe it was immature. Okay, it definitely was. But we weren’t friends. I couldn’t be friends with him.

So, really, it wasn’t as if I was letting my personal issues with Theo overshadow the job I was here to do. It was just convenient to be able to avoid him as much as I had.

The problem with Theo was that he was just so goddamn good . It made him irresistible. He had the terrible habit of being kind, thoughtful, loyal, and caring.

Because he would cast his spell over me again before I’d even know what was happening, I couldn’t risk it.

Movement in the seat beside me surprised me back into the present. I’d been thinking so intensely about Theo that I feared I’d conjured him into my orbit through thought alone.

I cast my eyes to my left, the air whooshing from my lungs in relief.

His eyes sparkling with mischief, Connor grinned his magazine cover smile at me.

“You’re pretty upbeat for a guy who just lost a game, sir.” I poked his rock-hard shoulder with my finger, hoping my voice sounded normal.

Ouch . Note to self. Don’t risk injury. Keep hands off hockey players. They were dangerous to my health, in more ways than one.

With the inner resilience and positivity that I was learning was just a part of who he was, Connor shrugged good-naturedly.

“Ah well. Can’t win ’em all, as they say.” He settled back into the coach seat, resting his head against the cushion, and unsuccessfully stifled a yawn.

“Really? Just like that?” I was skeptical.

He shrugged. “No, not really. But it won’t do my game any good if I’m obsessed with the last loss. Coach will torture us with endless reels of game tape and kick our asses in practice anyway. No point in borrowing trouble.”

What an amazing attitude to have. I’d always had a healthy respect for all athletes, but I was learning professional athletes were just so beyond anything I could have imagined.

Between multiple games, practices, dryland training, and pre-skate conditioning, it was a wonder to me that they were even awake in their off hours.

“That’s a pretty laid-back attitude for a first-year professional hockey player on a team looking to win the Cup this year.”

“Yes, yes. All of that.” He waved his hand in the air in general agreement with my statement. “But damn, buddy. These back-to-back away games are kicking my ass. What I wouldn’t give for a night in front of the TV at my overpriced waterfront condo.”

Lovely. I’d been upgraded (or downgraded—who knew?) in the Connor nickname department. We really were on our way to becoming proper friends.

“Well, old pal. Emphasizing the ‘old’ part. What happened to that fresh-faced young man I just proofed a magazine article about?”

He rolled his head to the side and looked at me through slitted eyes.

“You wanna go there, Diaper Sniper ? You’re the one rounding the corner on twenty-six between us. You were the one who asked me out in the first place.” His tired smile turned slightly mischievous.

“ Diaper Sniper ?” I laughed. I refrained from poking him again. “You certainly rewrite history well. If you recall, you invited yourself on my afternoon escapade. Not the other way around.”

“Yeah. I heard it from a teammate I had a couple years ago. He was older than you even, if you can believe it. He’d dated a fifth-year victory lapper or something while he was a first year. Er, I mean, a senior while he was a freshman in American college terminology. I thought it was a keeper.” His eyes closed on another yawn. “We’ll agree to disagree. Either way, it worked out great for you.”

“Thank you so much for the clarification. I don’t know how I would have managed without you to translate for me. ”

My words fell on deaf ears as the smallest snore sounded beside me. He really was exhausted.

I was worried about Giz, despite having texted Amy no less than four times in the last eighteen hours. Even though she’d provided proof-of-life photos of her curled up on the couch, sleeping happily.

Besides imagining all the new abandonment issues I was concocting on behalf of my obviously-better-adjusted-than-her-owner dog, I dreaded the idea of running into Theo at the hotel.

He hadn’t been on tonight’s media interview roster, having been able to glide off the ice and bypass the media while Michaels and one of the other defensemen had presented a united front against the media over tonight’s loss.

The bus slowed to a stop outside the hotel, I wasn’t proud of my speedy exit from my seat. I absolutely did not climb over a dozing Connor and book it into the lobby while the majority of the team paced themselves after a long night.

Of course I did. I just chose not to think about what I looked like while doing it. Luckily, Connor was a sound sleeper.

I did not have the control over my actions where Theo was concerned. I was out of my element yet again.

A quick stop at reception had my room card in my hand and into the elevator before the team made it into the lobby.

After taking a quick shower to wash off the ick of a plane ride and the adrenaline sweat from a night of media chaos at the arena, I found a text from Connor on my phone.

MVP-C

Hey buddy. You’ve been training extra hours I don’t know about? That was some quick exit off the bus.

When had I left my phone open in his presence that he’d changed his contact name?

Indie

MVP-C, huh?

MVP-C

You know, buddy. It even rhymes so it’s meant to be.

Anyways, I’m bored and so tired I can’t sleep. Stupid to catch that nap on the bus. Want to come to mine and watch a movie and raid the mini bar?

The choice between sitting in this hotel room stewing over Theo versus the guaranteed good-natured distraction that was Connor Andrews was an easy one. He made it easy to come out of my natural state of isolation. Connor was just such a safe space. I hadn’t realized how much I missed that with Abbie and Emery until I had it again with him.

Indie

You’re on. But that doesn’t sound very team nutritionist approved?

MVP-C

After all the hits I took tonight, I earned my recovery M&Ms. Room 405.

I’d changed into my pajamas after my shower. I looked down at my modal black tank and loose pants and decided the odds of seeing anyone in the hallway were slim. Unlike Connor, most of the team crashed immediately after getting into the hotel for the night. I shrugged a thin cardigan over my shoulders, just in case.

Peeking out into the hall, I made my way to Connor’s room.

I definitely wasn’t giving him enough time to pick the movie, or I’d probably end up watching The Mighty Ducks because he considered it “a classic.”