Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Finn
Game day.
I love game days. Sleep in. Good food. Morning skate. Huge crowd.
And with Gray and Dallas, it usually means a win.
My happy place.
I’m trying to focus, but I keep thinking about Raya.
The look on her face when they wheeled her out of her office is burned in my mind. With the exception of the first day we met, I’ve never seen her be anything other than strong and confident. No trace of vulnerability.
Nothing to suggest she’s ever been anything but fierce.
Until yesterday.
Yesterday, I saw vulnerability. A reminder of that night seven years ago. A reminder that she’s not Superwoman.
Like Poppy and Eloise, I’ve been kicking myself thinking we should’ve seen this coming. She’s clearly running herself ragged—we should’ve stepped in.
Well, someone should’ve. She wouldn’t have listened to me.
“It’s not like we’re friends.”
The words felt like a kick to the gut, but she’s right—we aren’t friends.
Yet.
If Gray’s right, I need to show up for her. Be her friend first. Someone she can count on—not someone who’s going to annoy her incessantly. I’m determined to win her over, no matter how different we are.
After yesterday, that goal pales in comparison to my new goal—help her figure out how to relax. If anyone can do that, it’s me. I’m the king of doing nothing. Apart from hockey, it’s my favorite pastime.
There’s a wooden chunk sound to my right.
“Brookie!” I turn and find Crosby looking at me. “What are you doin’, man?!”
We’re at a morning skills and drills practice, and this particular drill, 10-Pass Chaos, requires you to actually pay attention.
“Shoot! Sorry!” I call out, swing around, snag the puck, and pass it to coach so he can start the drill back up.
It’s supposed to be fast—hence the name. Three defenders—me, Crosby, and Jericho, get the puck right next to the opponent’s goal. We take the shot, and if we score, it starts over. If we don’t, the offense takes it and starts down the length of the ice.
The catch is—they’ve got six guys to our three, and they need to make ten passes before taking a shot. 10-Pass Chaos.
Their job is to make clean passes and score. Our job, as defense, is to get a stick on the puck and stop them.
I love this drill. Let’s GO.
Crosby takes the pass from Coach, slings it to me, and I jack a shot toward the goal, but the puck lifts wide. I swing around as Esposito gathers it up and starts up the ice.
Let’s go, Brook. Move it.
We’re up against the first line, so it’s Gray, Krush, Esposito, Kemp, Fritz—the rookie, who is out of his mind fast—and Myers. They’re all skilled.
I take the left as Crosby takes center by the blue line and Jericho locks down the right. I look over to him and think, Man, I’m glad he’s on our team. I wouldn’t want to get hit by him.
A pass skirts under my stick and is taken by Kemp, then swung over across the ice to Krush, who handles it for a second, sizing up Jericho. That’s the fifth pass already—geez.
How am I going to get her to relax? It’s not like I can just go to her house and make her. She doesn’t like to be told what to—CRAP!
Gray and Fritz are now both on my side.
And Fritz has the puck.
Pay attention!
Fritz skates hard right, and he’s by me, open lane right to the goal.
There’s a split second where I see an angle to tattoo him into the boards, so I take off.
I launch, but just as I’m about to hit him, he cuts his skates hard and stops on a dime, ice spraying, and I fly right past him—shoulder first into the plexiglass.
I completely whiffed.
I turn around just in time to see him look me dead in the face, drop off a no-look pass to Gray, who skates in and one-times it in the goal. He looked at me the whole time, that chump.
The six offensive guys gather in a tight circle, whooping, while I’m sitting there in a pile.
Crosby makes a loop and stops in front of me. I see Dallas watching me from the other side of the rink. “Where’s your mind at? You let a rookie do that to you?”
I dig my stick into the ice and use it to push myself back to my feet.
“Gettin’ slow, Brookie,” Fritz says to the oohs of the rest of the guys.
“Yeah, yeah, I might be getting slow, but you’ll always be ugly,” I crack back at him. He doesn’t even respond—he just skates away to set up the next line to come in, dancing his rear end at me.
Pssh. Rookies. Grow some hair in your armpits and get back to me.
In the years since the Comets picked me up, I don’t think I’ve ever let myself get distracted out on the ice. Ever.
For a guy who doesn’t seem to care about anything, the one thing I do care about is hockey.
For starters, I never thought I’d be here.
I didn’t plan on it. Being a pro hockey player was not on my Bingo card.
I played in college because I loved the game—and because it was the only reason I went to school.
A lot of guys entered the NHL draft, but I didn’t.
I knew I wasn’t good enough. I’m not the star. I never was.
I just loved it. For me, this sport was always about hanging out with my brothers and my friends.
Most guys in the league are hockey players.
And I’m a guy who plays hockey.
My college coach talked me into going to the combine with a buddy of mine—said he could use the support. I figured if I could help him, then I should go. Never expected to be picked up. And by the Comets? Are you kidding me?
It was the GM who said he saw something in me, apparently after Burke put a bug in his ear.
Said I was good for morale—a team player—and that his team needed a selfless player like me.
I don’t start every game, but I train like I do.
I know my role out here is to support people like Grayson Hawke and Dallas Burke.
I’m good with that, and in a lot of ways, I prefer it. I’m not about to miss a single opportunity to play with these guys.
But today? Good grief, I’m distracted. And my teammates can tell.
“Sorry, man,” I say to Crosby. “Just a little out of it today.”
And a little wrecked knowing I shouldn’t have confronted Raya yesterday because I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.
That’s not going to make her feel closer to me.
If anything, it’s going to annoy her, and she’s going to push me away.
Which means we’ll go right back to the dumb little game we play—I’ll keep teasing her, and she’ll keep rolling her eyes, with no idea that my feelings for her are real.
I skate back into the line, and when it’s my turn to do the drill, I get a stick on a pass and break it up.
The next time though? I’m mentally listing things I could take to Raya to help her relax, and we get scored on again.
I skate off the ice, drop onto a bench, and start unlacing my skates when Dallas sits next to me. “You good?”
“Yeah, man,” I say, brighter than I feel. “All good.”
Dallas pulls a baseball cap out of his bag and sticks it on his head. “Your mind wasn’t on what was going on out there.”
I look over at him, and I know he can read on my face that he’s right.
“That was a lot yesterday.”
“Yeah, it was,” I say.
“If you hadn’t been up there annoying her, that might’ve ended up differently,” he says. “Least that’s what Poppy said.”
I chuckle as we stand and walk toward the gym. “I’m glad I was there, even if she’s not.”
“I’m sure she is,” he says.
“Then you don’t know her as well as you think you do.” I shoot him a wry look.
“She’ll come around,” he says. “She’s just stubborn.”
We hang our bags up and head over to the stationary bikes. Most of the guys on the team end up here, getting in a session before tonight, keeping things loose. Everyone has their own regimen.
“Do you know how she’s doing?” I ask. “Did Poppy say anything?”
“Only that she brought her some food last night, and she fell asleep after about forty-five minutes. Have you talked to her today?”
I shake my head. I’d love to, but I don’t want to make it weird. She’s dating someone else, and like she said, we aren’t friends. “Do you think it’s better if I just, you know, leave her alone?”
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s watching me. “Is that what you want?”
I pedal faster. “No. I mean, I want to help, you know? Actually prove I’m not useless.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “I think I can help her figure out how to slow down.”
“That sounds smart,” he says.
Smart. Right. If I can get close enough to actually do it.
Raya probably wants someone to come alongside her and conquer the world, to have huge goals, accomplish a ton of stuff, and that’s just not me. I’d be perfectly happy with a piece of land, a family I love, a couple of dogs, and a homemade ice rink in the backyard.
Throw in a job where I can help people, and that’s a good life.
That’s the life I want.
We really are too different.
I’m ten minutes into my ride when the door of the gym opens and Raya walks in. Her eyes lock onto mine, and the rest of the room goes quiet, like someone hit the mute button.
Then Jericho lets out a low whistle, like we’re back in high school.
She’s tall and graceful and carries herself like a freaking Greek goddess. But today, that goddess is Athena.
And she looks like she’s ready for war.