Chapter 8
Eight
Eloise
Winnie is chatting my ear off, animatedly telling me about how they were so close to the Walter playoffs last year.
I know. I watched the game last year. Calgary was already out of contention when they were getting into their last few games.
I was watching the game as recon, not for enjoyment, but it was, and still is now that I’m on the team, always fun to watch them play.
A flutter of excitement settles in my stomach. That gets to be me this year. I get to play with them.
Say what you will about certain members of the team, but I feel way more comfortable here than I did on my last team. Don’t get me wrong; they were great. I love that team, but they had a very different way of connecting and felt much more family friendly compared to the Vortex.
A lot of the Vortex are single players; the Chill had families.
I was a gay woman who had just broken up with her long-term partner because we had fallen out of love.
It was no one’s fault, but the family friendly activities became a bit harder to bear the more I realized that she was the reason I was being invited to them.
And the reason I enjoyed them.
I wasn’t planning on leaving the Chill. I had expected to stay, but when they unsubtly hinted—urged, really—that I check out different teams, and Rose got moved to my position on the team, it seemed pretty obvious that they thought I didn’t mesh with the group well either.
I’ll be curious to see how Rose fits in with the team. She and I have very similar playing styles; she’s just a couple of years younger than me.
I saw Winnie wave to Brynn and Taylor when they came in, Brynn immediately integrating herself into the crowd and Taylor staying near the edges.
“El, did you hear me?” I turn back to Winnie. She’s got a bemused smile on her face, as if aware that I was looking for someone.
“Sorry, I was looking for Taylor. I just wanted to—” She raises an eyebrow at me when I say that, and I feel a burn creep onto my face. “I wanted to make sure she was okay.”
“Right.” The face she makes tells me she doesn’t believe me, and I feel like I have to whisper this so that it doesn’t get out to the surrounding people.
“I swear, I want us to start off on the right foot.”
“Then why are you blushing?”
“You said right weirdly.” I push her gently, and she chuckles.
“Come on, El, we’ve known each other since Uni. I know what your type is, and she is exactly that.”
“Winnie,” I hiss, “I would never have a crush on a straight woman. You know that’s a cardinal sin.” She snorts, pushing me lightly. She and this whole team are so much more hands on and comforting than the Chill.
I really like it.
Brynn takes this moment to join us and doesn’t comment on the conversation that we’re having. I don’t know if she’s heard us talking or elected to ignore us. Either way, I’d like to sink into my chair.
Winnie snorts. “Brynn, have you ever had a decade-long crush on a straight woman?”
Brynn gives her a confused look, and her cheeks colour, growing a dark red. “When I was younger. It’s a rite of passage, isn’t it?”
“But you moved past it, right?”
The droll look Brynn gives her makes me wonder how often Winnie says something like this. “Well, I did have several relationships since then. I am a practicing lesbian.”
“At least one of you is,” Winnie mutters. Brynn raises an eyebrow, and my cheeks are on fire.
“I need to go get a drink,” I say, coughing as I get up.
Winnie looks confused, and Brynn hits the back of her head as I make my way to the bar. I mean, I guess I should thank her for breaking the ice and letting Brynn know I’m gay. It’s unfortunate that she’s not my type. No. Instead I have to go for grumpy, green-eyed women who despise my guts.
And are straight.
Maybe I’m a masochist.
It’s probably the only reason that makes sense when I sidle up beside Taylor at the bar. She’s got two empty shots in front of her and a drained glass, and I can’t help but wonder if I was the reason. No, don’t be stupid. You’re not the centre of her universe.
“Club soda?” I ask the bartender, and she nods, getting that set up for me while I blatantly ignore Taylor beside me.
I can smell her. She smells like lavender and peppermint and something lighter, a floral smell, and the heat of her arm has me wanting to lean in for more. She takes a shuddering breath, and when I turn to her, drink in hand, her eyes are focused on something on the bar.
“You okay?”
“You ask that a lot,” she says, sighing. “I thought I told you—”
“Yeah. I know.” I feel the side of my mouth pull up in a small smile. “But I’m stubborn.”
Her eyes drag from my hands to my face, and something tingles inside me. This is the first time we’ve had more than a few words without her shouting.
Positive.
We’re also in a public space, and she seemingly has had a few drinks, so maybe it’s a bit easier for me to get to know her without her making a scene.
“How frustrating.” It’s a monotone statement that has me snorting.
“My sister would agree with you.” She looks up, shocked at the thought, and I wonder what crosses her mind when she thinks about me. “Do you have any siblings?” I add.
She flashes a sheepish smile. “A twin sister- she puts up with a lot from me.”
“Did she steal your hockey sticks?”
She rolls her eyes. “Worse… my dresses for school dances.”
I try not to scare her off with a bright grin. “And the hair straightener?”
She sighs, “You know my plight.”
“Sisters do that to you.”
She raises her glass to mine, and clinks it. “To sisters who drive us crazy.”
I sip, enjoying the carbonated drink, the static taste that settles onto my tongue.
She looks like she’s in heaven with the drink in her mouth, her eyes closed and head tilted back slightly.
“Maybe I can like you,” she says, opening up a bright green eye, and I can’t suppress the smile that pulls at my cheeks.
“I just want to be able to talk strategy, if that’s possible.”
She sighs, “I could do that too.”
I clink our drinks together again. “To reluctant teamwork. We’ve got at least two years together.”
“Goodie,” she mutters into the drink. “Brynn’s looking at you, and Winnie is too.”
“Winnie just outed me to Brynn,” I say dryly, turning back to the two of them and waving. “They’re probably figuring out how to make it up to me.”
“Outed?” she echoes.
“Well, yeah, it’s not a secret; my girlfriend was in a lot of posts on the Chill’s socials last year before—”
“You moved.”
My heart thuds against my ribcage, as if wanting to escape. “I broke up with her.”
When I turn back to Taylor, I can see every fleck of brown in the emerald green of her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It was a long time coming. We were very different people from when we started dating.”
“My-fiancé-cheated-on-me,” she says in a rush. It’s my turn to blink away the flurries of thought. Anger courses through me, and I start to understand why she is being a bit prickly. Justifiably so.
She lets out a soft breath and a curse that I ignore, and downs the rest of her drink. “Sorry, I’m tipsier than I thought I was. I shouldn’t have… especially not…” She clams up, and whatever headway I thought I made is suddenly gone.
“No, it’s alright–”
“I think I’m just gonna,” she points to the door, “Can you let Brynn know I went home?”
“I-I … yeah, I can do that.”
She doesn’t wave as she walks away, and I’m tempted to get another drink as I watch her walk around the oak and steel interior of the bar and leave. I look back at Brynn and Winnie, who are watching the two of us curiously.
I make my way back to the table and place my hands on Winnie’s shoulders. She looks up with a smile. “Green eyes?”
“She had to leave—said she was heading home,” I say to Brynn, pointedly ignoring Winnie’s question. Winnie smirks, blue eyes bright with mischief.
“Was she nice?” Brynn asks, and I nod.
“She always is.”
She doesn’t call me out on my bullshit. “You know, I think I’m going to have to go home and start looking at some apartments.
I haven’t—” I cut myself off, not wanting to tell them how much I didn’t believe I was going to be here, with a contract.
As much as I wanted it, my imposter syndrome was impossible to ignore.
“Yeah, I got you,” Brynn says, hugging me tightly. I wrap my arms around her, enjoying the comforting feeling. She seems really good at this whole captain thing. “Let me know if you need anything: roommate, a shoulder, a supper, whatever.“
I pull back, thanking her and ducking away from the rest of the team, thanking the few who pat my back and congratulate me as I leave.
It’s not until I step foot into my hotel room that the emotions of the day overwhelm me, and I gasp for breath. Fuck, it’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and tears are flooding down my cheeks as I regulate my breathing.
I did it.
I have a home.