Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
CHELSEY
I smirked as I took a photo of Brian Taylor entering the Minnesota Center and sent it to Layla.
Layla: Rawr.
I laughed. It was fun to tease her about him even though I knew she had absolutely no intention of pursuing him. Obviously. He was happily married.
Layla had, finally, gone on a date with Sam.
Very uncharacteristically, she hadn’t brought him back to the apartment and had refused to spill all the details.
I didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but given the way she had been giggling to herself recently, I was inclined to think it had gone well.
My phone vibrated and I checked it out. I had a notification from the dating app that Layla had installed, but I didn’t open it. I’d messaged a couple of people, but my heart hadn’t been in it, so I’d refused any offers to meet up.
I hated to admit it, but being around Matt was messing with my emotions.
Every time I saw him, I was either overwhelmed by an unpleasant cocktail of emotions—primarily inadequacy and rejection—or I remembered just how good we’d been together and how unlikely it was that anyone else would fit me as well as he did.
Either way, it wasn’t good for my dating prospects.
I sighed. I needed a distraction. Looking around, I took a few photographs of the audience. Most of them were decked out in green and gold—Minnesota colors—but there were several clusters of blue and silver amid the sea of green.
Personally, I’d been tempted not to wear the Chaos’s colors because it would remind me too much of how I’d supported Matt in the past, but as the team’s publicist, I knew the importance of showing a united front, so I’d sucked it up.
I’d gone for Harris’s name and number since he was the team captain.
Eventually, play started, and it moved quickly.
Both teams were in good form, but the Chaos were on the back foot from the instant the puck dropped.
Minnesota was just too skilled. If they’d been in poorer form, there was a possibility the Chaos might have beaten them, but as it was, they didn’t have a chance.
That said, I thought they could be proud of themselves after the final whistle blew, as they lined up to shake the opposition’s hands.
They’d kept their cool under pressure, which might not sound like a lot, but compared to the way the team used to crumble when things got difficult, they’d come a long way.
I’d gotten some excellent photographs too—particularly one of Davenport doing the splits to block a goal. His expression was pure concentration, and the easy athleticism of the moment was mind-boggling.
I waited for the crowd to disperse and made my way to hover outside the changing rooms. Max and Patrick had already disappeared inside with a camera, but Kim was leaning against a wall and I joined her, using my phone to compose a post for social media.
“You weren’t tempted to use the documentary as an excuse to try to get into the changing rooms?” Kim asked, not looking up from her phone.
I glanced at her. “They deserve their privacy.”
That sounded a whole lot more noble than the fact I was worried about how I might react if I saw Matt sans clothes. Very little was able to strip my common sense as fast as a glimpse of his sexy abs or those thick arms.
I looked around the stadium. It was laid out much like any other, except there was a lot of glass. A nearby hotdog stand had just sold out, and the disappointed people remaining in the line were scanning the area for other options while the vendors started to clean their equipment.
The reporters had gathered in a small media room, and to my right, there was movement as Coach Dunn and Austin left the changing rooms and made their way to the media room too.
I snuck in the back to watch the press conference.
The Minnesota coach and one of their wings were seated at the front already, so when Coach Dunn and Austin joined them, they got started.
After the Q&A was over, the team loaded onto a bus and returned to the hotel. I noted that Jesse was clutching Frankie the fox, and when I leaned over to ask Assistant Coach Willets about it, he grinned.
“We’re giving him to the player who was most sportsmanlike after each game to take home until the next one.”
I laughed. “Very peewee hockey.” Not a bad idea, though, under the circumstances. “Do you think you could let me know who gets him each time, and I’ll post a photo of them on social media with a short blurb about why he was awarded the fox?”
“Sure thing.”
At the hotel, the players retired to their rooms to prepare for dinner.
I was sharing a room with Kim, and she claimed the bathroom immediately, so I changed into a pale blue blouse and white jeans, which I’d have to be careful not to spill anything on, and used the small mirror inside the wardrobe to touch up my makeup.
I waited until Kim finished in the shower, and then we walked down to the private dining room together. She wasn’t much for small talk, but it was nice to have the company of another woman amongst all the testosterone.
A long table was set out end to end in the narrow room. I scanned the length, debating where I could sit that I’d have the smallest likelihood of having to interact with Matt. We’d come to something of a truce, but I still preferred to stay away from him as much as possible.
Honestly, I found him too attractive for my peace of mind. If I wasn’t looking at him, he couldn’t infiltrate my thoughts.
At least that was the theory.
Coach Dunn was sitting at one end of the table with Assistant Coach Willets opposite him. I wandered down and claimed the seat beside Coach Dunn, figuring most of the players probably preferred to sit away from the coaching staff.
Unfortunately, I was right, and for some reason, Matt was one of the last people to arrive. There were only two spaces left, one beside Delacrue and the other beside me. He glanced between them before sending me the tiniest of apologetic smiles and taking the chair beside me.
“Did the documentary team get the footage they needed?” he asked as a pair of waiters entered and started handing out menus.
“I think so,” I replied. “But honestly, I haven’t had a chance to speak to any of them much between the game and now.”
On my other side, Coach Dunn turned toward me. “I thought you were sharing a room with Kim Johns.”
I nodded. “I am, but she got in the shower as soon as we were back, then we came straight here. I feel like she’d have said something if they needed more, but I can’t say for certain.”
A waiter handed me a menu, and I skimmed it.
There were only three options for mains and desserts, likely to keep things simple for the people in the kitchen.
I chose the pork option, ordered a glass of lemon soda because it didn’t seem wise to drink alcohol while still in a work environment, and passed the menu back.
“Have you done any hikes recently?” Matt asked, fiddling with a napkin like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands.
“Oh, ah.” I was surprised by the topic. It was easy to forget that he used to be interested in things like that as well.
I didn’t know if he still was or if ice hockey consumed his life.
“Layla and I went up to the waterfall reserve for sunrise a while ago, but I haven’t been out since then. Have you?”
He shook his head. “Not since the season started. I did spend a week camping at the Indiana Dunes National Park after the end of last season with one of my cousins, but nothing since then.”
Silence fell between us. On the other side, the coaches both seemed happy talking to each other.
I’d have tried to insert myself into the conversation if I thought I had a chance of it, but they were midway through something that sounded quite technical, and I doubted I’d be able to catch the thread of it at this point.
“How’s your cat?” I asked because it was the only thing I could think of to break the awkward tension between us.
To my surprise, he grinned. “Wasabi is great. I love how much of an attitude he has. You know how Dad always loved animals and Mom isn’t so keen on them?”
“Yeah?”
He rubbed his hands together. “Well, Wasabi hates Dad for some reason. None of us can figure out why. But he loves Mom and thinks she’s the best thing ever. Whenever they visit, he sits on her feet and then acts all offended when she tries to move. It’s hilarious.”
“He’s settling in well then?”
He grabbed his phone and swiped the screen. “Hold on, let me show you a photo.”
I smiled, charmed despite myself. It was obvious he doted on the cat, and even if it hadn’t been, the photo of the cat with its claws sunk into a six-foot-tall cat tree would have made it clear. Although…this might be more of a cat palace than a tree. It was over the top and completely adorable.
“Very cute,” I said.
Coaches Dunn and Willets finished their conversation just in time to catch the tail end of ours and both pulled their phones from their pockets to show me their pets.
“Oh, by the way,” I said as a thought occurred to me. “You should know that all of the animals involved in our photo shoot have been adopted and the shelter received an additional twenty thousand dollars in donations after our posts went live.”
Matt beamed. “That’s amazing!”
Coach Dunn cleared his throat. “I’m glad to hear it, not least because the last thing I want is for my wife to get it into her head that we need another pet.”
The food came and it was excellent. I polished off my plate and sat back, full and more comfortable than I’d expected, considering who was sitting beside me. Apparently, my body’s natural tendency to tense up around Matt was slowly waning.
Down the table, Brown’s voice rose above the others, although I couldn’t quite tell what he was saying, but when Delacrue spoke, he was clear as a bell.
“I’m not raising money for that.”
“You’ve got to, or the commissioner might punish us,” Brown growled back. “Your personal opinion doesn’t matter.”
Delacrue snorted. “We’re meant to be fixing our reputation, not making everyone think we’re—”
“Shut up,” Drew interrupted.
Fortunately, they did.
I raised an eyebrow at Matt. “I wonder what that’s about.”
He looked uncomfortable and murmured quietly enough for the cameras not to pick him up, “I think Delacrue is a closet homophobe. He isn’t happy about the fundraiser.”
My lip curled. Didn’t it just make sense that an asshole like him would be a bigot as well? “Has anyone talked to him about that?”
Matt’s lips thinned. “Who’d want to?”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Matt had always been conflict-averse and that it had contributed to our breakup.
He sighed. “I’ll try, but I doubt he’ll listen.”
By the time dessert arrived, I was ready for bed and not quite sure I had room for it. The trouble was, it looked so good. Lemon sorbet with plump strawberries and some kind of fruity sauce.
I stared down at it, debating whether to take a bite. I loved good food, but I was also aware that when someone like me ate dessert, people noticed—and they had opinions about it. Especially when those people were all super-ripped professional athletes.
“Don’t you want it?” Matt asked, nudging me playfully, obviously hoping to ease the strained silence between us.
I bit my lip. “I might be too full.”
He winked. “A mouthful won’t hurt.”
He was right, but I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious.
I was happy with my body for the most part, but every now and then, the memory of what that asshole Cory had said came back to me, along with the echoes of my ex and countless high school bullies, and made me doubt things.
Cory was hardly the first person to have made a crack about my weight, but I think the fact that he’d said it to Matt, who hadn’t defended me—as far as I’d heard—made it hit harder.
I’d been used to people failing to stand up for me, but I’d expected better of Matt, and he’d let me down.
Suddenly determined not to let Cory take up any more space in my brain, I scooped a nice-sized portion of sorbet and sauce into my mouth. It was cold on my tongue and had a pleasant zing that contrasted with the sweetness. I allowed it to melt before swallowing and then helped myself to more.
Matt was eating too, so I tuned in to a conversation farther down the table. Max had a camera pointed at Jesse while Patrick asked him who he was closest to on the team. Jesse looked around with a shit-eating grin, as if expecting his teammates to start clambering for him to name them his favorite.
Then, with a particularly mischievous twinkle in his eye, Jesse wrapped his arm around Drew’s shoulders. “McKinley is my BFF. I know he comes across as a grouch, but on the inside, he’s just a big, squishy marshmallow.”
Drew glared and tried to push him off.
Jesse held on like a monkey and laughed. “Secretly, he loves it.” He turned to Drew and ruffled his hair. “You belong with me.”
Drew smacked his hand. “Never do that again.”
If I looked closely, it didn’t look like Drew hated Jesse’s attention. The slightest smile hitched one side of his mouth despite the scowl he tried to keep in place.
I laughed and leaned closer to Matt. “I think Jesse’s onto something.”
His gaze caught mine and held. “So do I.”
Something fluttered in my tummy and my heart warmed. Then, all of a sudden, my stomach plummeted.
No, no, no.
I couldn’t have warm, fuzzy feelings about Matt. I couldn’t look deep into his eyes and feel things. That wasn’t okay.
I pushed my chair back and stood. “I’ve got to go.”
His eyes widened and he put down his spoon and started to follow me as I bolted from the room. “Chelsey, wait!”