Chapter 7 #2
“Yeah, you have entirely new team dynamics to understand.”
“I do, but I’ve played with some of them before.” I sank into the couch. “How is Tex?”
“He’s great. His new trainer has been working him hard, so he’ll be ready for camp.” He sighed. “I don’t move until June. We should hang out sometime.” He chuckled. “Well, unless you guys make it to the Cup.”
“It’s a long shot, but who knows?” A grin curled my lips.
The Coyotes had never won a Cup, but there was always a first time.
Just like when I had a first time with…damn it.
I needed to stop obsessing over what happened with Ronan yesterday.
It invaded all my thoughts. “Hey, I’m supposed to be napping now, to be rested for the game.
” Shit, I hated to cut him off, but I sort of had to. “Can we catch up another time?”
“Yeah, sure. What are you doing on your day off? Maybe we could grab lunch.”
Fucking hell. Normally, I’d do it. But there were these plans with a rock star…“I have plans already. Maybe next time.”
“Oh? With who? Did you start seeing someone? A woman from The Coach House bar, maybe?” he asked. “Didn’t you tell me it was a good place to find hookups?”
I pinched my lips. Damn, it was a great place, but instead of finding a woman, I’d found Ronan Vale. I could tell him the partial truth. With a soft snicker, I said, “Yeah, tomorrow I’m seeing someone I met at The Coach House.” I wasn’t ready to out myself, even to friends who were living it.
“Damn, dude. Well, I can’t wait to meet her.” He paused. “If it works out.” He inhaled deeply. “Wait, do you like this woman? Because I can’t see you spending your time between playoff games with someone unless you really like them.”
Ronan’s gorgeous face appeared in my head and my heart fluttered. “Yeah, I do.” I had to leave it. “Now, I’ve got to go. I’ll catch up later.”
“Okay. Play well tonight. I’ll be watching with Tex. Love you, man.”
“Love you too.” I ended the call. This was turning into quite the shitshow. What would Colton, or even my teammates, think if they learned the truth? Hell, I’d keep it under wraps until the playoffs were over. I had enough pressure on me, and this thing with Ronan might be over by then.
I hit the ice with the team for warmups, and the crowd went wild. We were playing to a full house, and the energy was amazing. As I skated across the rink, I passed a few pucks back and forth with Laine, warming up my legs and honing my focus.
Once warm, I set my stick on the ice and dropped to my gloved hands and kneepads for some hip stretches with Laine by my side. While I made circles on the ice with my knees, Volkov skated by us, patting our helmets. “Let’s do this, boys. You are the new dynamic duo.”
“We’ll get it done, Cap.” Laine flashed a smug grin at me. “How are you feeling? I heard you spent some time at Ronan Vale’s house yesterday?”
Word had spread. I should have known it would. “I did. He’s a nice guy.” I wouldn’t go into details with him. “How about you?”
“I spent it resting at home and eating well.” His grin widened. “I was a good boy.”
And I’d been…bad. Very, very bad. I glanced at a camera mounted on a glass partition above the boards. Was Ronan watching me now? “Let’s monitor McKinnon, like Coach said. He’ll be gunning for us, knowing it’s my first playoff game.”
He pulled his legs together and leaned toward me to pat my shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. I’ve got your back.”
It was the middle of the second period, and I was on fire tonight. The score was one to one, but I’d done my part. The goal San Jose had scored had been when I was resting on the bench between shifts. I watched McKinnon shuffle the puck between his blades, skating right for me and the goal.
“Get ‘em, Crosby. Nail that bastard!” Ace made himself big at the net.
“Fuck yeah.” I barreled around the outside and then shifted toward McKinnon. When he turned, I hit him down low, sending him rolling across my back and landing on his ass. A perfect hit.
“Fuck you, Crosby.” He hopped onto his skates while I snatched the puck and then shot it at Laine. In my periphery, Big Hopkins skated full bore toward us.
Laine passed it to Big Hopkins, who yelled, “Fuck, yeah, way to go, boys.” He twisted and after a few passes to Jarvis, Hopkins dunked the puck behind the skate of the Sharks’ goalie just as he spread his legs.
The horn blew and everyone raced to Hopkins and Jarvis for group hugs, helmet taps and slaps on the back.
Jarvis grabbed the back of my helmet, pressing his face shield to mine. “You’ve got this, kid. That goal is part yours.”
Kid? Did he know I was twenty-five? “Thanks, man.” But my heart swelled with warmth. If I could keep this up, I might finally live my dream in the NHL.
We’d won the game in overtime, and the locker room was full of cheering, banter and laughter. As I undressed down to my workout gear, Coach Dupont stepped toward me.
Squeezing my shoulder, he said, “You played well out there tonight, Crosby. Looks like I made the right decision.”
Gaping, my gaze cut to his, and I said, “Thanks, Coach. It means a lot coming from you.” I had to continue playing this well. Hell, maybe my time with Ronan had been beneficial after all?
“Well, keep it going.” With a nod at me, he walked off toward Laine.
It was time for a cool-down and an ice bath. I’d taken a lot of hits tonight, and I’d be sore as hell tomorrow.
After the cooldown and walking through my front door, I slipped my phone from the breast pocket of my suit coat. There were messages from Colton, Dad, and…Ronan. Shit, who do I call first? I set my duffel on the floor by the kitchen island and strolled into my bedroom to change into sweats.
I’d get Dad’s call out of the way. Setting my phone on my dresser, I changed, hung up my suit, and then dialed Dad’s number, putting him on speaker.
It rang once and clicked. “Hey, Evan. Incredible game tonight. You were amazing, son.”
“Thanks, Dad.” As I ambled through the hallway and to my kitchen, I puffed out my chest. I’d been damn good tonight. “Laine and I were prepared for McKinnon, so it worked out.”
“I’d say. You hit him pretty hard in the second period. Are you okay? No injuries?” he asked.
“Besides the typical bruising? Nope.” I grabbed a Gatorade from the refrigerator and set the phone on the counter while I unscrewed the cap. “Coach Dupont gave me some kudos after the game.”
“Did he say anything about next season?”
“Dad, it’s only the first game. Don’t jinx it for me.” Damn it, of course he’d take it there. I brought the phone and Gatorade to the couch and dropped in, resting my bare feet on the coffee table.
“Hey, your mother wants to congratulate you,” Dad said.
“Oh.” I sipped my drink. Dad must have forced her to watch the game.
“Evan? How are you? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” she asked. “It looked like you hit your head in that fall—”
“No, Mom. I’m great.” She always worried about brain injuries. With a soft chuckle, I said, “I can still count to ten. Want to hear me?”
“No.” She scoffed. “Are you joining the Coyotes permanently?”
Dad’s voice came through. “Claire, it’s only his first game. Don’t jinx it for him.”
Shaking my head, I rubbed my eyes, a smile sweeping across my lips. My father was something else. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll show them I can play at this level in a few more games and then I’ll hear something.”
“Oh, okay,” Mom said.
“Son, I know you’re tired, so we’ll let you go.” Dad breathed in deeply. “We’re proud of you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” The corners of my eyes pricked. Achieving this would fulfill my dreams, and I’d finally have Dad’s approval. “Love you both, and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye, love you,” they said in unison.
I ended the call, setting my phone on my chest. Who should I call next? Colton. I’d get him out of the way since I’d probably want to chat with Ronan longer. God, I was in trouble. I did like him. A lot.
After calling Colton, I set the phone back on speaker and listened to it ring. Hell, was he in bed already? It wasn’t too late.
Colton answered the call. “Hey, Evan. How are you feeling? You looked fantastic out there. Even Tex said so.”
“You were on it, man.” Tex’s voice came through the phone.
“I, uh, have you on speaker.” He chuckled.
“Thanks, guys. It feels great. I got a lot of supportive comments from the guys on the team, even our defensive coach,” I said, and then sipped my Gatorade.
I wanted to make this quick. I was itching to talk to Ronan.
“Hey, just wanted to check in. I need to ice some spots and get to bed.” Tex would understand. I tucked my drink between my thighs.
“Sure. You want to be well-rested for your lunch date tomorrow, huh? Does she know much about hockey?” Colton asked.
My stomach tensed. Damn it. I hated lying to him, but I had to right now. “She knows a little about hockey.”
“Okay, well, have fun on your date, and we’ll talk to you soon,” Colton said.
“Congratulations, Evan. Keep that focus going for the next game. We’ll be watching and cheering you on from the couch.” Tex sniggered.
“Thanks, guys. I’ll talk with you soon. Love you.” I could call Ronan now. I glanced at my refrigerator behind me. I really should ice my thigh where the puck had hit me. The bruise hadn’t been too bad yet, but tomorrow it might look nasty.
“Love you too, bro. Bye.” Colton ended the call.
I hopped off the couch and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and then returned for my call with Ronan. What was he doing right now? Working on music? How messy had his studio been that he didn’t want me to see it?
After calling his number, I waited through a few rings. Maybe he was busy and wouldn’t answer.
The phone clicked. “Hello? Evan?” He panted.
“Hey…what were you doing? You sound out of breath.” I positioned the ice pack on my thigh with a throw pillow to hold it in place. Would Drew still be there?
“Sorry, I was in the backyard with Drew and didn’t realize I left my phone in the kitchen,” he huffed a chuckle. “I didn’t want to miss your call.”
“Oh.” Then why did he leave his phone in the kitchen? With a grin, I shook my head. It didn’t matter.
“According to the announcers on the television, you played well tonight.” His breathing slowed.
“Yeah, I did. I felt great out there. I clicked with Laine, and everything fell into place. Playing with these guys is amazing. They’re all so damn good.” I sighed. Shit, I missed some of my AHL team, but maybe next year I’d play with a few of them again.
“You got hit a lot. Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Getting hit is part of the game.” I glanced at my ice pack. “I’m icing a nice bruise on my thigh from the puck, but I’ll be ready for the next game.”
“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” he said. “What time do you want to come over?”
“What time do you want me?” My pulse stuttered. Yeah, I wasn’t cancelling on him. Seeing him might have helped my game.
He huffed an exhale. “Drew and I started working on some songs, so it might be a late night. Once we get started…well, it’s hard to stop. We have to take inspiration when it strikes, you know?”
Shit, maybe I shouldn’t see him tomorrow. My heart skipped a beat. “Okay, so, rain check?”
“No, no, I want to see you. It’s just…would four be too late?” He drew a breath. “The exercise equipment should arrive by then.”
“Sure, four works.” We might only have a few hours together, but what the hell. I took a sip of my drink. I wasn’t sure what else to talk about. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. And say hello to Drew for me.”
“I will. See you. Bye.”
“Bye.” I ended the call and tipped my head back with a soft sigh.
I was getting myself in deep here, and fast. I shouldn’t want to see him so badly.
It reminded me of my involvement with Hazel in Juniors.
Fuck, was Dad right? Had I let that relationship distract me from hockey enough to hurt my draft prospects?
I couldn’t repeat that mistake, especially now. But fuck, Ronan was different.