6. Bryce
Bryce
The locker room smells like sweat, tape, and… is that tacos? “Who brought tacos to practice?” I call over the noise.
Laughter ripples through the room. “No one, man. I think you must be smelling your own breath,” someone shoots back from across the locker room.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, shaking my head as I make my way to my stall, tapping a couple guys on the shoulder as I pass. “Save it for the East.”
That earns a few approving nods and a couple of ‘finallys’ from the guys.
This… The chaos of the locker room, the joking around… This is home.
“Hey, did you guys hear about Taz?” Micah asks, halfway through lacing up his skates. “Apparently, someone put goat stickers all over his jersey this morning. He was not happy.”
Snickers erupt and I can’t help but grin. If anyone needs to be pranked, it’s the captain of the East team.
“Serves him right,” Tyson says, clearly still upset about the prank that was pulled yesterday on his ?jersey–rocket stickers with Taz’s face all over them. Those two went way back, and have been friends forever. Thick as thieves.
“Yeah,” Jake adds with a grin. “I’m glad you got him back, Ty.”
Tyson throws his hands up. “It wasn’t me,” he protests. “I’m the team captain. I’ve got responsibilities. I can’t be playing with stickers like some U8 kiddo.” He points across the room at Ted Powell and then me. “Besides, I’m too busy trying to keep you guys in line.”
I drop my bag and start pulling my gear out, not even looking up. “Worry about yourself, hot shot,” I call back. “I’ve got my end of the ice locked down.”
“Do you?” Stone Reilly calls from the far side of the room. “Because Jake’s dog could’ve blocked that puck you missed yesterday.”
“Hey, leave Peanut out of this,” Jake protested with a laugh.
A few ooohs and good ones are called out as guys pause, suddenly invested in the chatter.
I glance up and pin Stone with my most serious look. “One puck. Out of how many?”
A few guys cough, trying to cover their laughter.
“One missed puck can be the difference between winning and losing,” Xavier Schwann says with a grumble. He’d know about that. We lost a big playoff game when a shot slipped past him.
I smirk, grabbing my tape. “Good thing I don’t make the same mistake twice, then,” I say to my Denver teammate and defensive partner.
“Alright, fellas,” Coach Badaszek says. “Let’s get on the ice. We have work to do.”
We start with drills, then move on to plays.
I’m in a group with Xavier, Micah Lemon, Holden Prescott, and Luke Ryder.
The puck sails around the boards, coming right at me.
I catch it with my stick and cleanly pass it to Micah, who fires it at the goal.
Jason Dexter, another teammate from Denver, is our backup tendie and he catches it in his glove.
“Again,” Coach calls.
We reset and start again. This time, I’m too late. The puck sails past my stick and follows the boards right to Holden. He fires it toward Jason, who knocks it away with his blocker like he’s swatting a fly.
“Chambers!” Coach yells.
I exhale hard through my nose.
“I thought you didn’t make the same mistake twice,” Stone says as he skates past me.
“Nah,” Jake says. “He makes new ones.”
I grunt and reset to run the play again. I need to get my head in the game.
Of course, as soon as I think that, I find myself hoping Hadley’s having a better morning than I am.
An hour into practice, and I’m drenched in sweat. My thighs are burning since Coach has had us running the same play over and over again.
“Grab some water, and let’s run it again,” he calls. “I think you guys are finally getting a read on each other.”
I shake my head and squirt water into my mouth, swishing it around before I swallow. Adjusting to playing together isn’t easy. Players from all over the West are on this team, and it’s taking us longer than we’d like to find our groove. Coach is definitely putting us through our paces.
I push back out onto the ice and take my position.
“You good?” Colt asks under his breath.
“Yep,” I mutter. “Never been better.”
He shoots me a look that says he doesn’t believe me. “Then prove it,” he says, skating off as Coach approaches.
I nod, pushing off harder than necessary, digging into the ice. My frustration is clearly getting the better of me.
“Chambers, you’re slow. Fix it.”
“Yes, sir.”
By the time practice is over, my legs are burning like it’s training camp and I haven’t skated all summer. “That was brutal,” Colt says, passing me on our way into the locker room. “I’m definitely hitting the ice bath.”
“Same,” I say, stopping at my stall and stowing my gear.
I take a second to sit on the bench and catch my breath.
This wasn’t my best practice. And at this level, that’s an issue.
If I want to keep my place on the line, I’ve got to up my game.
We’ve got two defenders on the reserve squad just waiting to take one of our places. That can’t happen.
I grab a towel from my bag and wipe my face.
Focus, Chambers. Hockey. Your career.
The plan.
Too bad that plan might’ve been blown out of the water by a sweet librarian with a sense of humor and a heart of gold.
I grab a bottle of water and head over to an empty stationary bike. Micah takes up the spot next to me. “Rough practice,” he says, taking a gulp of water.
“Yep,” I say, focusing on the repetition of the bike.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” he says, glancing over at me. “Everyone has an off day.”
He’s right. I know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. “Can I ask you something?” I ask, glancing around and seeing that we’re basically alone over here.
“Sure,” Micah says. “Shoot.”
“How did you handle it when you met Meg? How did you keep your focus?”
Micah grins. “Ah, so it’s a girl.” He laughs. “I figured your head was on something, but I didn’t think it was a girl.”
“Shh!” I hiss back. “I don’t need everyone giving me a hard time over it.”
Micah brings his voice down. “Sorry. I’ll be real. It was hard in the beginning. It seemed like every other play I was off my game. It nearly cost me my spot on the team.”
I nod. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“You won’t. You’re too good—even with your head in the clouds right now,” Micah says.
“Don’t think that cutting things off will make it better.
I tried that. It backfired. Badly. I started really messing up then.
That’s when the coach pulled me aside and gave me the ultimatum.
See the team counselor or lose my spot on the team. ”
“I’m guessing you saw the counselor,” I say, chuckling a little.
“I did, and honestly, it helped.” Micah says, stopping the cycle now. “I was able to figure out how to stay focused during the game and give all my attention to Meg off the ice. It was a win all around.”
“Thanks, man.” I say, hopping off the bike and heading to the showers. “I appreciate it.”
I’m ten minutes early when I walk into the Coffee Loft down the road from the Capitol City Public Library. The line is nearly out the door, so I go ahead and get behind a woman with a small dog in her purse and pull out my phone.
Bryce: I got here a little early. The line is a bit long, so I jumped in. What can I order for you?
A few seconds later, her response comes through.
Hadley: A lofty-size vanilla latte with caramel drizzle, please!
Bryce: You got it. See you soon.
Hadley: Thank you! *happy face emoji*
The line moves forward slowly, and my mind wanders back to the conversation I had with Micah after practice yesterday. I’ll be honest. I considered texting Hadley and calling off our coffee date, but I found myself scrolling through our text messages grinning like a fool instead.
That’s when I knew it was too late. I’ve already started falling for her.
I laugh. Of all the places in the world to find someone like her, I didn’t expect it to be in Washington DC.
And now I’m not sure what to do about it. We’re still getting to know one another, and eventually, I’m going to have to tell her what I do. It’s not the type of job where I can work remotely, so that could be an issue.
I should tell her.
Right now. Before this turns into something more. Before a hockey fan recognizes me.
But the second I do, everything changes.
I like this… getting to know the real her and letting her see the real me.
It’s so rare to meet someone who doesn’t already have an agenda. I find I’m not ready to let that part of my life in yet.
The problem is, even with all the clear reasons why a relationship between us wouldn’t work… I still can’t walk away.
“Hey,” Hadley says, stepping in line beside me just as I reach the counter. “Thanks for getting in line.”
For a moment, I’m stunned silent. I knew she was beautiful that day at the bookstore. That didn’t prepare me for this.
Today she’s radiant. Her auburn hair falls in waves around her shoulders, and her cheeks are a bit pink from the walk over, giving her a glowy complexion. Her smile is genuine and her eyes are deep pools of green that I can’t look away from.
I cannot believe someone as beautiful as Hadley agreed to have coffee with me.
“Sir,” someone says, but I can barely hear them. “Sir, it’s your turn.”
Hadley giggles and steps in front of me. “I’ll have a lofty vanilla latte with caramel drizzle, please. Oh, and a blueberry muffin. Those look good. What about you?” She turns to me and I realize I haven’t said a word since she walked in.
“Hi,” I say, or try to, but the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my mouth. Smooth, Chambers. Real smooth. I clear my throat and try again. “Hi, I’m glad you’re here.”
The man behind me coughs and mutters a curse word under his breath.
“Right. Sorry, I’ll have a small coffee, cream and sugar, and I’ll take a banana nut muffin if you have one.” I pull out my wallet and pay with cash. “Keep the change,” I tell the woman behind the counter. Hadley and I take our coffee and muffins to a table by the window and sit.