Chapter 1 Ollie #2
I get a lump in my throat. I never felt welcome or like I was a part of the Sasquatch, even as their captain.
I didn’t get any goodbyes or well-wishes from the team chat when I said goodbye.
By contrast, the Devil Birds players have sent me a flurry of welcomes and offers of spare rooms until I find a place.
Totally different vibe than the ’Squatch.
We go to baggage claim, and I grab both of my bags, passing the second to Jake when he offers to take it. Leaving the terminal, we get in Jake’s luxury SUV.
As we start driving east, Jake asks, “Other than being here for games, have you been to Atlantic City before?”
Nodding, I rest my elbow on the window ledge. “Yeah, my brother Finn lives here. In Shifting Pines. He works at the wildlife refuge.”
Jake cocks his head. “Finn King?”
“Yeah.”
“I know him! He works with my dad.” Jake slaps the steering wheel and laughs. “It’s such a small world. I’ve met him a few times. Good guy.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” I suck at small talk. I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not chatty, and there’s no point getting close to these people when I’m going to be traded away again or not brought back next season.
They don’t need me; they have a strong team already.
It’s like Jake said, better to have me with them than against them.
“Then you know how to get around. Are you staying with them? We have you set up with a room at Devil’s Den. It’s right across from our rink, so you’ll be okay until your car gets here. You’re having it shipped?”
“Yeah, I’m having my SUV shipped with my other stuff. I have a room lined up with a friend in Shifting Pines, but being close to the rink is good until I have my Suburban.”
We’re entering Atlantic City, and I’m looking around my new hometown.
It’s on an island off the southern New Jersey coast. The world-famous Boardwalk is here, along with the glittery casinos.
The casinos are all that it has in common with Las Vegas.
Where everything is spread out in Vegas, it’s compact here.
The word “city” is amusing because the population is about the same as the neighboring townships, but it’s more compressed due to being on a small island with some other towns.
I won’t be making Atlantic City my long-term home.
Too much concrete and neon. I need to be able to be out in the woods and enjoy some peace and quiet.
That’s not possible with the clanging slot machines, honking horns, and the constant whooshing of the waves lapping the beach.
I can’t relax with all that stimulation.
But that’s something for future Ollie to deal with.
Present Ollie needs to get in his room and settle in before his first day of practice with his new team tomorrow.
“Here we are,” Jake says as he pulls into a marked spot in the Devil Den’s parking garage. He opens his door, and I follow suit. “Let’s get you settled in.”
We take an elevated walkway over the busy street below into the hotel portion of the casino.
Jake guides me to the front desk so I can officially register and get my key card, and then we take the elevator up to the eleventh floor.
My room is a small suite with a sitting area, kitchenette, and bedroom.
It overlooks the Boardwalk and has a stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean.
I recognize the arena where the Devil Birds play—it’s nicknamed the Nest, and there are stores and restaurants in the converted pier, along with the rink the Devil Birds call home.
“Order whatever you want from room service tonight. You can meet with Miranda, Coach Morgan’s assistant, to work out grocery delivery and anything else you may want delivered until your car gets here. We want to make sure you’re comfortable and happy.”
“Thanks, Jake, I appreciate that. I’m grateful for this opportunity.”
We shake hands, and he leaves me to settle in.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I stare out the window in the weak late-January sunshine at the ocean.
All my life, when I thought of the ocean, it was the Pacific Ocean.
Growing up in Oregon and then playing in Washington state, that was the ocean we visited on vacation.
It’s so different here. No dramatic cliffs, no rocky shores, just flat sandy beaches. I hope this change is a good one.
My phone dings. I can’t help but smile at Phoebe’s text.
Phoebe: Has our newest Devil Bird landed?
Me: Yeah. I’m staying at Devil’s Den tonight.
Phoebe: Going to video call you, okay?
Me: Yeah.
My phone lights up with Phoebe’s beautiful face.
With sparkling brown eyes and hair like the richest chocolate, she looks like one of the sweet confections she bakes as a pastry chef.
I’d love nothing more than to nibble on her.
If only she weren’t my sister-in-law’s younger sister…
Phoebe thinks of me as a brother figure or a friend. Not someone she’s attracted to.
The truth is, I couldn’t kiss the bachelorette because the only woman I want to kiss is Phoebe Albright.
And she has no idea.
When we first met at our siblings’ wedding two years ago, I was instantly smitten.
Even though we were in school thousands of miles away from each other, I would’ve made a move romantically, but she had a boyfriend in Paris.
I overheard her and her sister Shelby talking last summer about how Phoebe was now single.
I figured it was finally my time. But then Shelby mentioned how cute a couple we’d make, and Phoebe laughed and said I was her best friend.
That was all I needed to hear. I’m not going to risk our friendship plus the harmony of our family by telling Phoebe I’m in love with her when she doesn’t feel the same way and making things uncomfortable.
There would be a lot of awkward Thanksgivings over the next fifty years.
Passing the cranberry sauce to the guy with the unrequited crush on you… I can’t torture her like that.
“Hey, Phoebs,” I say when I answer the call. “I’m here. They have me in a swanky room. Wanna see the view?”
She nods, and I turn my phone so she can see out the window to the pier across the Boardwalk and the ocean beyond.
“Ooh, jealous! No wonder you aren’t at my place! Not that I’m there either.” She laughs.
Ugh. I’d much rather be with her in her cozy condo. “Where are you?”
“At Finn and Shelby’s, cat-sitting Marsha while they’re on a babymoon in Key West.”
That’s news to me. “Trust me, I’d rather be with you, Phoebe, wherever you are. But without a car, it’s more practical for me to be close to the rink. Once my stuff arrives, you’re stuck with me.”
“I can come over if you want,” she offers.
Oh, I want. “I’d love that, but I’m going to be studying plays and watching games to get ready. That won’t be any fun for you. Don’t you work early tomorrow?”
“Ollie, I work early every morning. That’s the life of a baker. I can’t let that stop me from hanging out with one of my favorite people!”
One of her favorites. Not the favorite.
“I’ll know my schedule better after meeting the team tomorrow. I want to see you, but we’ll be living together soon enough. You’ll see me so often, you’ll look forward to me being gone.”
“Not true.”
There’s a knock on my door. “I think room service is here. Hold on, Phoebe.”
Pulling open the door, I’m greeted by an older man with a cart.
“Good evening, Mr. King. Miss Penhall sent up a tray of sandwiches and snacks. There are drinks and other treats in the mini fridge, and the room service menu is on the counter. My name is Frederick, and I’m happy to get you anything you need.
Breakfast is served at the rink prior to practice, and of course, there’s room service. ”
I step back so he can enter. “Thank you, Frederick. On the counter is fine.” I pull my wallet out to grab a tip.
He shakes his head. “Thank you, sir, no gratuity, it’s covered.”
“No, I can’t do that. Please, Frederick, take it.” I hold out a ten-dollar bill.
Frederick inclines his head and takes the bill.
“Thank you, sir. You can leave the tray in the hall when you’re done. Have a good evening.”
“Thank you. You too.”
Frederick leaves, and I lift the cover off the tray.
“What’d you get?” Phoebe asks.
I turn the phone so she can see. “Looks like turkey and ham sandwiches, sub sandwiches, chips. Nice spread.”
“Yeah,” she says. “Looks good.”
She looks better.
“Enjoy your sandwiches and your studying,” she says. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I’m so glad you’re here, Ollie. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too. Goodnight.”
We hang up, and I grab a couple of sandwiches and settle in to watch game footage and study plays in preparation for practice tomorrow.
I’d much rather be with Phoebe, but I can’t let her distract me from the reason I’m here—to play hockey and be good enough to not get cast aside again.
Maybe I can be the team’s choice…even though I’m never going to be Phoebe’s.