Chapter 4 Ollie
OLLIE
As much as playing hockey professionally was my dream, seeing Phoebe Albright wearing my name across her back, telling the world she’s here for me, was an even bigger dream come true.
I’ve considered myself a reasonable, modern man, but I wanted to indulge my Bigfoot shifter, scoop up the woman I want to be mine, and go live happily ever after with her deep in the forest. There’s no forest on the island Atlantic City’s on, but if we drive around half an hour or so, we’d be in the pinelands that cover a large portion of southern New Jersey.
I raked my bottom lip with my teeth and started to close my eyes to indulge in that fantasy, then I remembered where I am and what I’m here to do.
I need to focus on scoring in hockey, not scoring with Phoebe. After the game, in the privacy of my hotel room, I can indulge myself in my sexy thoughts of her. But not now.
Shaking my head, I try to smile normally and not grimace. But damn, my compression shorts are feeling tight.
I start stretching, and Alvarez and Stone Waller join me.
Stone is the brother of our goalie and plays defense.
I think he’s a moose shifter. Alvarez is a capybara shifter.
The Devil Birds have all sorts of shifters—polar bear, wolves, a wombat, Coach is a cougar shifter—which is unique in the league.
Most teams are full of wolves and other canine-type shifters, like coyotes and hyenas, bears, and large cat shifters.
From what I’ve seen from being on the opposing team, they have incredible chemistry.
I don’t know if it’s the mix of shifter types or because of their personalities.
Whatever it is, it works. I hope I’m able to fit in. Or at least that they leave me alone.
“How do you know Phoebe?” Alvarez asks.
“We’re friends,” I say, starting groin stretches.
“How did you meet?”
Sighing, I switch to hip stretches. I know it looks like I’m humping the ice and people are recording it, but I can’t care. It’s not worth risking injury so I can avoid embarrassment. At least now Phoebe knows I can handle the thrusting. Not that I think she’s wondered.
“Our older siblings are married to each other.”
“Oh, so she’s your sister-in-law. You’re family,” Stone says happily.
“No,” I say as calmly as I can when I want to throat-punch my teammate. “She’s my brother’s sister-in-law. She’s my friend.” For good measure, I add, “And we’ll be living together as soon as my stuff arrives.”
Stone’s whole demeanor changes. Good. I know I have no claim to Phoebe, but I want to, and if I must be an asshole and mark my territory, so be it. Just because I’m inexperienced doesn’t mean I’m stupid or uninterested.
Warm-ups end, and my line is on the ice for the national anthem.
Carter takes the face-off and flicks the puck to me.
I skate forward with the puck on my stick and use the bulk of my body and the length of my reach to keep it away from the opposing team.
I pass it to Mac, who passes it to Carter.
We skate toward the Aliens’ net as a trio, the two of us flanking Carter like we’re bodyguards.
Carter fakes like he’s going to shoot on goal, but at the last minute, lifts the blade of his stick so the puck is free for me to snag as I follow behind him.
The defenders for the Aliens weren’t expecting that.
They’d focused on Carter and were slow to react to me.
Taking advantage of their inattention, I fire the puck over the left shoulder of their goalie, scoring.
The goal horn sounds, and the crowd goes wild.
I’m not one for flashy celebrations, so I do a simple fist bump and accept the hugs from my teammates.
As I skate along the boards to get fist bumps from the guys on the bench, I glance up at Phoebe.
She has a huge smile on her face and is wiping tears from her eyes.
When she sees me looking, she waves and yells, “Yay, Ollie!” Somehow, over the din of the crowd, I hear her.
Maybe not with my ears, but with my heart.
* * *
“All right, folks!” Bedard, the team captain, says.
“Great game! Brick, you lived up to your name with that shutout. King and Mac, you’re now the Big Mac line.
We gotta have Daphne see if she can get free burgers for our fans.
” My teammates clap and yell, and it feels good.
In Spokane, there was plenty of yelling, but no clapping.
I could’ve gotten a hat trick every night and twice on Sunday, and there’d be no celebration—only grumbling about a goal that got through or that I was hogging the puck.
But this is only my first game with the Devil Birds, and it’s easy to be jolly when we have a win.
Let’s see how we do when there’s a loss and some pressure.
That’s the true test of a team’s character.
We shower and change. Phoebe works early in the morning, so no chance to see her tonight.
I can’t wait until my stuff arrives and I go home to her every night.
I know I’m probably only here until the end of the season, and then I’ll move to wherever I find a job in computer engineering.
I can’t imagine the Devil Birds extending my contract—they don’t really need me.
Yeah, I got a hat trick, but the Aliens didn’t score any goals.
That’s a testament to Brick Waller’s goaltending.
We would’ve won with only one goal. They didn’t need three of mine.
It's lonely back in my room. Phoebe should be home asleep. My brother’s on vacation with his wife.
My sister is a senior in her final semester of college.
If she’s not out being social, she’s painting to prepare for her graduate gallery exhibition.
I don’t really have other friends, since I’ve always been a loner.
My phone chimes, and I scoop it up in hopes it’s Phoebe after all. It’s not.
Devil Birds Group Chat
Stone: Hey, King. There’s an adult arcade downstairs with pool tables. A few of us are there. You’re welcome to join us if you want to hang out and unwind.
That’s unexpected. What should I do? This would solve my loneliness for tonight. I should try to be more outgoing for these few weeks. Or at least tonight.
Me: Yeah. Sounds good. Be down in a few.
The arcade is a floor above the main casino floor.
Stone, Brick, Alvarez, Nathan Crosby, and Sven Lindholm are all there.
I know everyone from playing against them, but I haven’t spoken to Crosby and Lindholm since joining the team.
Crosby is a wombat shifter, and Lindy is the youngest player on the team and one of the few Europeans in the PHL. I think he’s a brown bear shifter.
Stone waves me over. He’s the friendliest player on the team. If I didn’t know he was a moose shifter, I’d swear he was a golden retriever. Everyone says hi, and several point me to a pitcher of beer and glasses sitting nearby, so I pour myself one.
“Thanks for the invite,” I say. “Do you do this after every home game?”
Brick laughs. This is the first time I’ve seen her out of her goalie gear. She reminds me of my sister, Violet, with her chestnut-colored hair, but she has green eyes, while Violet has brown eyes like me and Finn. They’re of a similar height and build, neither as tall and curvy as Phoebe.
“No. But all of us hang out here a lot.” Brick gestures to the group. “We’re about the only single ones left on the team. Everyone else is falling in love and coupling up.”
“The teammates are coupling up?” I ask.
Alvarez quirks an eyebrow. “Would it matter?”
I respect the direct question.
“No,” I answer, shaking my head. “I’m not homophobic, I don’t care if my teammates are gay, so long as they play well. But I am nosy, and I want to know things. The entire country knows my situation—it’s only fair.”
That makes everyone laugh.
“We need the whiteboard back at the Nest to draw this all out for you,” Brick says.
“But you’ll have to pay close attention instead.
Bedard is dating Coach’s younger sister, Kendall.
Coach is engaged to Carter’s older sister Mallory.
Carter is dancing on Celebrity Dance Dare with Mac’s sister Sophie, and they’re hooking up.
Mac and Randi are in love.” She takes a deep breath.
“Me, Stone, Bedard, Carter, Mac, and Randi all live together on the Carter family homestead. We’re in apartments above a converted barn.
Coach and Mallory live in the main house. Sophie is staying in the pool house.”
Stone looks at the ceiling, tapping his chin.
“Oh! Also, Daphne and Mallory are close friends because they worked for the company owned by Logan and Coach’s family.
Daphne’s husband Logan is Coach’s cousin and the team photographer.
Oh, and Kendall, Carter, and Randi went to college together and are best friends, and Sophie and Randi were best friends as little girls, and Mac has loved Randi since they were kids.
” Stone inhales deeply as if he’s run out of breath.
I can only blink and picture the meme with the hyper looking dude in front of a bulletin board filled with papers and red string. “Wow. Okay. That’s a lot. There won’t be a quiz, will there?”
“There is,” Lindy says. “I had to take it three times. They took away my cup until I passed.”
I start to laugh but realize he’s completely serious. I shoot a glance at our other teammates, and Alvarez raises an eyebrow and gives the slightest of shrugs.
“Good to know,” I say as seriously as I’m able to. “I’ll be sure to study.”
I end up playing pool with Stone while the others play darts.
Stone breaks and gets solids.
“There isn’t really a quiz, you know,” he says.
I smirk as I line up my shot. “I didn’t think so. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Lindy seems very young.”
“He is,” Stone confirms. “He has a crush on Phoebe. But he has crushes on everyone. How about you?”
I sink my ball and line up the next. “How about me, what?”
“Do you have a crush on Phoebe?”
I consider my answer as I draw back my cue.
What I feel for Phoebe is so much deeper than a crush, but if I say I don’t have a crush on her, it’ll be interpreted as not being interested, and I don’t want anyone to think there’s a clean sheet of ice to her.
I’m on that ice in full gear and will body check anyone who tries to keep me from her.
“More than a crush?” Stone presses. I hit the cue ball and watch the next ball sink in the side pocket.
I line up my next shot and sigh when I miss.
“It’s complicated,” I say.
His laugh is a combination of compassionate and cynical. “Everything is complicated. It’s the human condition.”
Now I know who the team philosopher is.
We finish our game—I win—and then play a few rounds of darts. Lindy is surprisingly good at them and beats us all. I make a note not to bet against him.
It’s pushing midnight when we part ways.
Turns out the team will provide rooms to players if they’re hanging out at Devil’s Den after games or drinking, so everyone has rooms and isn’t driving home.
That’s a relief. No one’s drunk—we’re all shifters and metabolize a couple of glasses of beer quickly.
But it’s another sign of the care and respect the team has for the players.
They’re so functional, it makes me suspicious, but I’m enjoying it while it lasts.
The last game of the regular season is tomorrow night—I guess tonight now—against the Sasquatch.
We’ve secured our place in the first round of the playoffs.
We’re playing against the New York team in a best-of-five wild-card game series.
The winner of that series advances to the next round of the playoffs and so on to the Dickinson Cup Finals.
The Sasquatch are on the bubble, so with a win, we’d end their season. I’m totally okay with that.
* * *
Revenge is sweet. So is scoring a hat trick against the team that threw me away.
Add in the fact I set a PHL record by being the first player to have hat tricks in back-to-back games, and life is good.
The only thing that would’ve made it better was if Phoebe was in the stands again, but she works early in the morning, and two late nights in a row isn’t great for her.
I accept the back slaps and the fact that I need to face the media.
I hate this part. No longer being captain of the Sasquatch should’ve gotten me out of dealing with the media, but I had to show off and be awesome.
I’m such a dumbass sometimes. I’m named first star of the game and am tapped to give a postgame interview.
At least it’s with a single reporter and from the bench right after the game, so I don’t have to face a gaggle of phones in my face, recording every word I say while my teammates are coming and going from the showers and in various states of undress.
“Welcome to the Devil Birds, Ollie,” Chuck Branson, the middle-aged commentator for the team says. “Looks like you’ve been part of the team forever with the way everything is gelling. What’s the secret?”
Taking a deep breath to calm my racing heart, I try to give a natural-looking smile.
“Thanks, Chuck, it’s great to be here. No secret. Obviously, the team is a cohesive unit, and I’m familiar with their style from playing against them through the season. Our styles mesh. Everyone has been extremely welcoming.”
Chuck nods. “The win tonight sealed the Sasquatch’s fate, and they aren’t making the playoffs. How do you feel about that?”
Shrugging and hoping I can walk that fine line between being honest and being an absolute asshole, I say, “I’m a Devil Bird now. I’m concerned with their standing, not any other team’s.”
The stands erupt in applause at that. With a slight smirk, I lift my chin in acknowledgment. Our interview wraps up after that, and I go back to the locker room to shower and change. I grab my phone and wallet and see that Phoebe texted me.
Phoebe: Helloooooo, Mr. Hat Trick! OMG! I saw the goals on social media. You’re incredible! :star eyes emoji:
Me: Hey! I figured you’d be sound asleep. Maybe you are. Thank you! I hope you sleep well. :kissy face emoji:
Oh, fucking fat fingers. I meant to hit the zzz face and hit the kiss face and sent without realizing.
“You okay, King?” Alvarez asks, and that’s when I realize I groaned aloud, not only in my head.
Looking up from my phone, I roll my eyes. “Typo in a text. Nothing major.”
He wiggles his dark eyebrows. “To Phoebe?”
No reason to respond—the flush flooding my face says it all.
We have an optional practice tomorrow to start preparing for our upcoming series. The first game will be here in Atlantic City, and then the second game will be in New York City. My stuff should arrive this week. Things will be busy for me.
I order some sandwiches from room service as I walk back to my room. As nice as it is to have housekeeping and room service, I can’t wait to be in a space with my stuff. And Phoebe.