6. Luke
CHAPTER 6
LUKE
P ractice is nearly over, and, once again, Jayce takes the puck down the ice toward the goal like a dart headed for a bullseye. Except this isn’t a pub filled with a bunch of half-drunk hockey players burning off steam with a friendly game of cricket. Our first game is in two days, and this team still functions more like an autonomous group of testosterone sticks.
I’m on the opposing team for this scrimmage. So is Ethan, who gives me a knowing look. I lift my chin in agreement. We attempt to close in on Jayce, but he’s skating hard and gaining momentum. If hockey doesn’t work out for the guy, he could easily train to be a speed skater for the Olympics.
On my other side, Elias is wide open and has a clear shot to the net.
Does Jayce make the pass? No, he does not. It’s like he’s completely oblivious to anyone on the ice but himself. The kid may have the potential to be a great hockey player—hell, he’s already one of our best players—but he’s a lousy teammate.
Jayce pivots to the left, skating backward, then spins around and makes a slap shot, sending the puck into the air and over Wade’s shoulder into the net .
Jayce pumps his fists as he skates an arc behind the goal, escalating my simmering anger into a bomb about to ignite. One, the kid totally stole my move, and two, he’s still not getting the message about passing the puck to an open player for a sure shot.
When he reaches the other side of the net, I shove him against the glass, pinning him with my forearm.
His eyes go wide at first, then narrow as he spits out his mouth guard. “What the?—?”
“Next time, make the pass.”
“Why? I made the goal.” His voice cracks.
When he squirms, I press harder against his chest protector. He’s still a kid losing his baby fat, and I’ve got three inches and a good thirty pounds on him.
“You got lucky.” Not entirely true but not a lie either.
He sneers. “You think I didn’t see you and Ethan closing in?”
“You know what to expect because we’re teammates. Ever heard of that word, Jayce? Teammates? We work together. And unless you’ve studied every player on every opposing team, you can’t predict what they’re going to do.” With a last shove for emphasis, I let him go.
He glares at me while shifting his shoulders to get his pads back in place, then skates away.
Ethan glides over to me. “Think he’ll get it?”
I shake my head. “Not before our first game.”
He smacks my shoulder with his glove. “You’ll convince him, Cap.”
About half of the team has accepted my position now. Ethan, Wade, and Payton are starting to feel like friends, especially since we started a group text to discuss how the team’s doing overall.
As Ethan skates away, I catch Gabe’s wave from the players’ bench. I come to a stop in front of him, unsure if he’s going to tell me to back off or praise me for dealing with our wild card. “Guess you saw what went down?”
He lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. “Just the tail end. I was on a call with Tampa’s head coach.”
Tampa Bay Lightning is NHL. If he’s negotiating an affiliation… “Oh?”
Gabe gives me a pointed look. “I’m hopeful.”
Part of me—the pre-accident part—is elated. The other part doesn’t want to know. I wanted that once, to get moved up to the NHL. Now I’m not so sure. I’m still getting used to being on the ice again, and we haven’t even played our first game yet.
Gabe taps his finger on the top of the boards. “Keep working on Jayce. He has potential.”
“Lone candles burn out fast.”
He smirks. “I kind of recall dealing with one of those back in our Barracuda days.”
Of course, he would bring that up. “Yeah, you roughed me up a few times.”
“You needed it. As does Jayce.” He holds his hand up. “Not that I’m giving you permission to rough him up, but…” He pauses as his grin turns serious. “Great job, Luke. Keep it up.”
I still don’t get why Gabe thinks I can do this. Yeah, I handled Jayce today, but Ethan or Payton could have easily filled the role of captain. Maybe even better. Hell, even Wade could have reined the kid in with his wrangling skills.
Derek blows his whistle, bringing practice to a close. The guys skate toward the side boards to leave the ice. As captain, I feel the need to hang back and study each guy as he heads down the tunnel to watch for any issues like injuries…or attitudes.
Jayce glares at me as he passes, reminding me of some tough days I had early on with Gabe being the recipient of my unhappy mood. But he didn’t give up on me. I didn’t see it that way then—just thought he was out to make my life miserable.
However, unlike Gabe, I’m not a patient man. Somehow, I need to figure out how to deal with Jayce without losing my temper.
A light breeze greets me as I step outside to head home—my home. I’ve opted to stay with Gabe and Olivia only during the week and go home on weekends. That way, I can keep up with the house and make sure Mom’s roses and orchids thrive.
Before I drive up to Clearwater, though, I agreed to join a few of the guys for a beer at a local place, the Turtle Tide, known for its hush puppies. Some seafood and relaxed conversation sounds just about right. Besides, some downtime would be good for me. And this will help me connect more with those still on the fence about me being captain.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I’m about to get into my car. A text to our group:
PAYTON: Heads up. Sophie is joining us.
ETHAN: I knew you had a thing for her.
PAYTON: Not at all. She overheard and asked if she could come along.
I consider bowing out, but I know I’ll get more flak than it’s worth.
LUKE: So much for relaxing.
WADE: Why so negative, bro? She’s nice.
LUKE: I used to think sharks were nice too.
ETHAN: What do sharks have to do with it?
LUKE: Never mind. Just don’t forget she’s a reporter, so watch your mouths.
There went my hope for a relaxing evening with friends. Now I’ll have to be on guard all evening. Suddenly, a beer sounds like a bad idea, seeing as how alcohol can lower one’s boundaries and loosen the tongue. On the ride over, I contemplate an array of excuses to get me out of tonight, even to the point of considering calling my sister to see if she needs to talk about something. Anything.
That would be a believable excuse—that my sister needed me. So it wouldn’t be a complete lie. But I’m not a fan of half-lies either. I much prefer the truth. And this idea feels not only deceptive but manipulative as well.
I’ll make an appearance and leave early. It’s been a long week, and honestly, I’m borderline exhausted since my body is still adjusting to practices and workouts again.
When I step inside the restaurant, the aromas of fried seafood and spices bring my stomach to full alert. A constant hum of conversation fills the joint, and beach-themed decor and decorations add to the quaint and inviting ambiance. Ska music plays in the background, giving a lively vibe to the place.
No reason why I can’t eat first and then leave. That will seem more natural, anyway. Not that I’m overly concerned with what the guys would think. Or Sophie, for that matter.
Although I’m a little curious to see what she’s like in a social setting. Specifically, I’m curious to see if she whips out that pink notebook of hers to jot down notes. I bet her pen is pink, too. If I see that big bag of hers, I’ll know for sure since she always has it with her.
I find my crew sitting in an oversized circular booth near the back of the restaurant. Sophie’s already there, nestled between Payton and Mathéo. Her hair falls loose around her shoulders and frames her face in such a way that makes her eyes pop even more under those shiny bangs of hers. She must have gone home to change because I don’t recall her wearing a floral top when I briefly saw her before practice started. I narrow my focus on the pattern.
Pink roses.
Something stirs in my gut. Not the usual pang of grief I associate with reminders of my mother, but something…warm…endearing.
Sophie lifts one hand in that waggle wave of hers and smiles. “Hi.”
I nod in acknowledgment, but before I can say anything, our server appears at the open end of the table to take our drink orders. Most of the guys order a beer or iced tea. Sophie decides on a Pink Lady.
Of course, she does. The woman clearly has a thing for the color pink. Why wouldn’t that apply to the color of the liquids she consumes? My curiosity about her obsession with the color brings up a myriad of questions in my head.
Like, does she have a pink couch? Pink pillows. Pink pajamas?
That last one leads to other imaginations which I shut down fast. I’ve allowed her room to scrutinize my career. No way am I giving her headspace.
But watching her take that first sip, how the pink of her lips almost matches the blush of her drink, is doing something crazy to my insides.
Wade elbows me in the ribs. “Earth to Luke.”
I snap my head around to face him. “What?”
He gives me a subtle frown. “I asked if everything’s okay.”
“Why?”
He leans in so only I can hear him. “Because you looked pissed as hell.”
“I’m good.” I take a quick sip of the beer I didn’t even notice was sitting in front of me. Until I get some food in my stomach, I’ll pace myself. Luckily, the server just placed a large basket of hush puppies in the center of the table .
I nab one and pop the whole thing in my mouth. “Just hungry, bro. No worries.”
Wade grins at me. “He’s just hangry.”
The entire group laughs at his joke. Heat rides up the back of my neck in a blaze that sets my nerves on edge. And when I skim my gaze to Sophie, our eyes lock for a moment. Her cheeks match her lips now. I didn’t notice that before, so I’m guessing she’s blushing.
But why?
Then, the pieces click. Wade said I looked pissed, and I was staring at Sophie when he nudged me. She must think I’m mad at her or something.
Or something…
For some reason, this stirs a deep need to know what she’s thinking about me. And that worries me more than anything.