9. Luke
CHAPTER 9
LUKE
B y the time I hit the locker room the next morning, most of the guys are geared up and heading down the tunnel to the ice. Payton, who’s on the bench a few feet from my locker, finishes lacing up his skates. He glances at me but says nothing.
Which is good because I don’t want to talk to him. Not yet, anyway. Not until I process this prickly feeling that’s been stuck in my chest since yesterday. I suppose it could be jealousy, but that makes no sense. I’m trying to avoid Sophie Adams, not date her.
Payton saves me the trouble by leaving as I pull my shirt off and get my gear on. Practice will give my brain time to figure this out while my body works off some steam.
Coach has the guys gathered in front of the bench when I hit the ice. He pauses, giving me a pointed look, then continues his pre-practice pep talk. I make a tight arc and stop next to Ethan, who lifts a brow in question.
I reply with a curt head shake to shut him down—nothing up for discussion here. I’m late. That’s it. No way I’m going to tell him I overslept because thoughts of Sophie and her captivating eyes kept me tossing and turning until almost dawn .
We start with warm-ups and then move into flow drills. Once those are completed, Coach transitions us into competition drills. Near the end, my muscles feel like rubber, so I take a breather by the boards to shake my hands out and relieve the tension.
Payton comes to a stop next to me. “About yesterday.”
“What about it?” One of the trainers passes me a water bottle. I gulp down a long slug while Payton flexes his neck, trying to figure out what he wants to say.
“Sorry if I crossed a line.” He exhales as if he’s relieved to finally get it off his chest.
I lower my bottle. “You didn’t.”
He raises his brows. “Are you sure?”
I nod.
His expression turns borderline cocky. “Then you won’t mind me asking Sophie out.”
I grunt. “I didn’t say that.”
He snorts. “Then you do have a thing for her.”
“I didn’t say that either,” I growl.
“Maybe you didn’t have to.” He shoots me a wry grin.
Before he can skate off, I pin him with my fiercest look. “She’s a reporter. Watch your back.”
He tips his chin up as he says, “Journalist.”
“Whatever.”
He tilts his head. “Is this Luke speaking or our team captain?”
I sigh. “Both.”
Still facing me, he pushes off the boards, gliding backward. “You know, sometime I’d love to hear why you have such an intense dislike for the press.”
“Today is not that day, my friend.” Or ever. I’ve tried to put that behind me—behind Kinsley and me—since what went down after my mother’s accident. Just took a nosy reporter taking a deep dive into my family’s history to reveal stuff about my father that I didn’t even know about. Suddenly, our loss became more about him than the loss of our mother. He didn’t deserve the attention, and Kins and I didn’t need the scrutiny.
That’s when my anger really started. Anger at my mother for not telling us the real reason he ‘left.’ Anger at the press for making a painful loss worse—thank goodness for the Barracuda’s PR team and their hard work getting it shut down before it went viral. And anger at my father for bailing on our family. Although maybe that’s a blessing in disguise.
Finding out the truth wrecked me, but explained a lot of things I couldn’t understand as a kid. I know my mother was trying to protect us, and I’m glad that Kinsley has no memory of it. But it’s a burden I never wanted to carry.
When I turn around, Sophie’s staring at me through the glass like an angry fan on a rampage with that giant bag of hers slung over her arm. I don’t know how much she overheard through the plexiglass, but I’m sure she heard Payton’s last words since he raised his voice. But she already knows I have an aversion to the press, so maybe she heard me call her a reporter again.
I can’t help but wonder if her timing was intentional, though. Did she leave her usual perch in the upper seats to eavesdrop?
“Guess that makes us even.” I take another slug from my water bottle.
She frowns as she moves closer. “What are you talking about?”
“I heard your convo with Payton. And now you overheard mine.”
Her mouth slides into a smug grin. “So, in other words, you’re admitting you eavesdropped yesterday?”
I clench my jaw. Touché, Sophie Adams, touché. Not that I intended to overhear their conversation. I just happened to walk up when Payton asked her out for dinner and interrupted before she could answer. That part might have been intentional.
She walks away while I stand there staring at her like the idiot that I am. Something about Sophie brings out my sarcasm more than I’d like.
Ethan makes a hockey stop next to me, spraying ice over my skates and nudging my shoulder. His chest rises and falls with his exertion. “Something going on there?”
Sweat trickles down the side of my face as I shake my head. “Not a thing.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, not buying it.”
I pin him with a look to back up my words. “No need to. It’s the truth. There’s nothing going on between us.”
He shakes his head in disbelief. “Whatever you want to believe, man.”
Ethan returns to the scrimmage while I take a moment to stuff my anger back into the metaphorical locker I created in my mind.
Some things just aren’t worth revisiting.
After practice ended, Derek instructed me to go to the coaches’ office right after I shower and clean up. He sounded terse, so I’m guessing something’s up with Gabe.
When I get there, Sophie’s sitting in one of the chairs positioned in front of Coach’s desk, and neither of them looks happy. I close the door behind me and approach the empty seat.
Did she run and tattle on me for calling her a reporter again? It wasn’t intentional. In my mind, they’re one and the same, so I don’t understand the differentiation.
Coach gestures to the chair. “Have a seat, Luke.”
I can already tell Gabe enjoys being in this position about as much as I do. His jaw is clenched, and there’s a tightness around his eyes. Sophie seems to find her hands clasped in her lap very interesting. Guess she’s not thrilled to be here either.
Gabe fiddles with a pen on his desk. “There appears to be some miscommunication going on. That’s why I asked you both to come see me, so I could aid in facilitating this process.”
I know Gabe well enough to read between his diplomatic lines. However, I don’t know exactly what Sophie said.
He pins me with a gaze that means business. “Our team’s reputation is sitting on a cliff, Luke, and we need your help.”
I shift in my chair. “If you mean the interview, I did that.”
Sophie keeps her chin tucked as she speaks. “You walked out before we could finish.”
“I didn’t walk out. I got an important phone call.”
Gabe’s expression softens somewhat. “Kinsley?”
I nod.
“She okay?”
I turn away and stare at the training manuals filling the bookcase to my left. “She was having a rough day.”
“Kinsley’s your sister, right?” Sophie’s probing question brings my full attention back around to her.
“Yeah. She’s been through a lot. Too much. Let’s keep her out of this.” My words sound harsher at the end than I intended. “I’m not trying to be difficult. Just looking out for her.”
Sophie’s smile holds a tenderness that matches her eyes. “Understood.”
The tightness in my chest releases some at the genuine concern I see there. Perhaps I’ve gone about this all wrong. Instead of holding Sophie at arm’s length, maybe I can trust her…a little.
Gabe sets his pen aside. “Now that we’re on the same page, we can get this ball rolling so Ms. Adams can meet her deadlines. We’re taking the bus up a day early for our game in Jacksonville. That should give you two ample time to finish your interview.”
“I sleep on those long rides, Coach.”
“I was planning to drive up later in the day.”
Our words tumble over each other. Gabe splits his gaze between us as if he’s watching a tennis match.
He focuses on Sophie first. “Ms. Adams?—”
“Sophie, please.”
“Sophie…you said you’ve had a hard time getting Luke scheduled to finish his interview. This seems like the perfect solution to that.”
She fidgets in her chair again. “There was just something I needed to do tomorrow.” She sends me a sidelong glance. “But I’m sure I can figure out a way to rearrange my schedule.”
“Great.” He turns to me. “Luke, the ride is eight hours. I think you’ll have plenty of time to finish your interview and take a decent nap.”
Sophie leans forward in her seat. “I emailed Luke the rest of my questions, so it shouldn’t require more than half an hour…if he’s prepared.”
Sounds like a challenge to me. “I’ll be ready.”
Gabe studies us for a moment. “Good. That’s all I wanted to discuss. See you both in the morning.”
I stand at the same time Sophie does, but I reach the door before she does so I can open it for her. My mother taught me good manners, and I intend to exemplify the gentleman she raised me to be, no matter how uncomfortable the person makes me.
And Sophie Adams has a knack for making me itch on the inside.
“After you.” Her eyes connect with mine, escalating that itch in my chest to a swarm of bees.
“Unnecessary, but thank you.”
I slide my hands into my hoodie pockets, keeping my stride in pace with hers as we walk down the hall. Awkwardness walks between us like a third person.
“You could have talked to me before running to Gabe.”
She stops and spins around to face me. “I didn’t run to Gabe. You didn’t reply to my first email about rescheduling, or the second one. I knew you and Gabe were friends, so I simply asked him for a few details about you. He put two and two together.”
I run a hand over my mouth. “Sorry. I’m not great at following up with emails.”
Her expression softens as she studies me. “Good to know. If I created tension between you and Gabe, I apologize. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
She opens her mouth as if to say something, then shakes her head and continues toward the exit.
Again, I open the door for her as we head outside. The temperature has dropped some with the onset of fall, but the lingering warmth of the day folds around us.
“Thanks.” She slides a glance and a tight smile at me before rushing to her car.
I’m barely inside mine when she drives away a little too fast for a parking area, making me grin for the first time today.
Maybe, just maybe, I make her as twitchy as she does me.