11. Scott
SCOTT
“So?”
“So?” I asked, unlacing my skates while I sat on the bench.
“What’s going on?” Rowdy asked over the sound of whistles still going off on the rink. I turned my body to look at him. The two of us were fully dressed in our practice gear and sweating after a hard practice before the game.
“I met someone,” I confessed, but Rowdy Bouchard didn’t flinch. Hell, he almost seemed bored.
“And?” He rolled his hand for me to continue.
“And… I’m fucking terrified that the timing is off.”
“Because the season is about to begin and I’m guessing she lives in Houston?”
“And she’s an old buddy of mine’s younger sister.” Now, that got his attention. First his brows rose with surprise then bunched with concern.
“How much younger?” I bumped him with my shoulder.
“Not like that,” I groaned. “She’s twenty-seven.”
“Oh, okay… So, what’s the problem?” I ran my fingers through my sweat-soaked hair.
“The thought of leaving her to go on the road, of her not being the first thing I see every day and the last every night when I got to bed, makes me want to crawl out of my skin. I don’t just want her to go on the road with me. I need her to.”
“Fuck,” he cursed, looking at me like it was the first time. “Wait, how long have you known her for?”
“Two days.” He coughed and tried to hide the bewilderment on his face but failed.
“What the fuck, man? Two days, and you want some chick—“
“That’s the thing. She’s not just some chick.
She’s the one.” I scrubbed my face and turned my attention to my friend.
I put a hand between us, silently asking him to give me a moment to explain.
“You know me, Rowdy. You know I’m not like some of these guys, hooking up with puck bunnies or falling in love with one woman after the next. I’ve never been.”
“I mean, I remember a time when I joined the Loestars and you were more than okay with puck bunnies.”
“That was at least seven years ago.” And it wasn’t a lie. Puck bunnies became boring the older I got. I’d tried half-heartedly to let friends or family set me up on dates, but nothing ever went further than a first or second date.
Meeting Stella that night… I’d felt alive for the first time in a long time.
“Right.”
“But Stella is different.”
“And you know this after two days?”
“Down to my bones,” I confessed, our eyes locked.
He whistled low and long before looking out at the rink, where some of the other guys were still running drills. “I guess when you know, you know.”
“Facts,” I muttered, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees.
“So… what are you going to do?”
“Beg her to come on the road with me,” I said out loud.
“And if that doesn’t work? What are you going to do?
Kidnap her?” He might have been joking, but his idea did have merit.
The image of Stella tied up and at my mercy in a hotel room sprung up to the forefront of my mind so damn clearly, so damn real, it shook me right to the core, getting my cock to wake up.
“Scott,” Rowdy warned quietly. I turned to look at my friend and playfully rolled my eyes.
“I wouldn’t do that.” I sighed, not sure if either of us believed me. When I looked back out at the second-string players, I heard Rowdy’s deep chuckle.
“Who would have thought the big and mighty Scott Chance would get his head all fucked up by a woman?”
“Also…”
“Shit,” he said quietly.
“I’m retiring.” Silence fell between us.
I could feel his eyes on me, so I explained, “It’s not because of her.
I’d already decided. You remember the last game in LA against the Kings last year?
” I turned to face him. He nodded, his face a mask of stone.
“I didn’t know why that game felt… different.
Like this weird feeling had washed through me that made me realize I was missing something.
Something huge. Hell, I wasn’t sure what it was.
I just knew this was going to be my last season. ”
“Shit… just like that?”
“I mean, at the time, I thought it was because maybe I wanted to go into coaching, you know? I’m getting older but…”
“But?”
“She was there. Well, she was going to the game.”
“That same one?”
“Yep. At that game. She felt something shift so big, it scared her and she went home.”
“Girl listens to her gut, huh?”
“More than you know.” I wasn’t about to tell him how she thought she was psychic. “I think it was the universe telling me, trying to lead me towards her.”
“Shit, Scott Chance is a fucking romantic, too.” He bumped me, and we chuckled. “Talking serious now, does Coach know? The owners?” I shook my head.
“Nope. Not even Martin knows.”
“Your agent?” I shrugged.
“The only ones who know are Stella and you.”
“Stella and me.” He blinked. Once, twice, a third time. Like he was trying to make sense of it. “Damn,” he exhaled. “When you decide to shake shit up, you really shake it up, don’t you.” I chuckled because fuck, he wasn’t wrong. “I won’t say anything,” Rowdy promised.
“Appreciate it. I’ll talk to everyone soon. I just need to get this stuff settled with Stella first.”
“Because if she doesn’t go on the road with you, it’ll change the outcome?” he asked without judgment.
“Fuck, no. Because she’s my priority.” He whistled again and shook his head.
“Who would have thought? Scott Chance has something in his life more important than hockey.”
I sure as shit never saw it coming, but then again, the best things in life took you by surprise.