Chapter 9
COLE
“Ihear things are going well with your new chef,” Linc says as he drops beside me in his stall in the dressing room.
“Yeah,” I grunt.
We’re about to head out for our final warm-up before the game starts. He should know better than to talk to me right now.
“Sounds like you’ve got a cozy thing going on with shared breakfasts and dinners. Very domesticated.”
My teeth grind and my fists curl inside my gloves.
“What the fuck are you trying to say, Storm?”
He sits back as if he’s shocked by my tone.
“Nothing, man. Freya’s a great girl. I’m happy for you.”
“She’s my chef, not my girl.”
“Yeah, I know that. But I’m still happy for you.”
I glare at him, silently begging him to shut the fuck up.
But the fact of the matter is that he’s right.
Freya is fucking awesome. It hasn’t even been a week yet, and already I’m pretty sure hiring her has been one of the best decisions of my life.
I swear, I’m eating better than I ever have.
Even my previous chefs didn’t put as much thought or love into their food as Freya does.
I’m already playing at the top of my game this season, and I can only see that getting better in the coming weeks.
But not only is she a fantastic cook, she’s also a great person, and I’m finding myself looking forward to going home every day—not to be alone, but to actually spend time with someone.
It’s weird and so removed from what my life is usually like, but I’m struggling to find it in me to care.
The short time we spend eating together in my kitchen is quickly becoming my favorite part of the day.
We’ve got another home game on Monday, and then we’re heading out of town for our next road game. There’s a part of me that’s already dreading it. Then there’s the other part that’s wondering what the fuck is wrong with me.
Never in my life have I cared about coming home to anyone. Ever.
It’s fucking weird to suddenly be wondering if she’ll be there when I get back…if she’ll have missed me.
Focus, asshole.
You’ve got a game. Get your head into it.
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to block everything out.
Some of the guys choose to put headphones in to help focus, but I prefer silence, which is impossible with these assholes surrounding me.
“We’re heading to the Fractured Compass tonight, right?” Monroe, our rookie, asks after he bounds over like a Labrador puppy who hasn’t seen his owner for a week.
I don’t realize the growl that rumbles through the air comes from me until Monroe turns his excited eyes my way and instantly deflates.
“Fletch,” I bark, glancing across the dressing room at our captain. “Keep your fucking rookie in check; he’s more excited about getting drunk after the game than he is winning.”
Fletch jerks his chin in acknowledgment before nodding in Monroe’s direction. “Marilyn,” he barks. “The fuck are you doing, talking to Handsy right now?”
Monroe’s head drops, and he instantly backs away. “Sorry, Cap. I’m excited. My sister and parents have come to watch the game.”
“That’s great, kid. How about you focus on giving them something to celebrate?”
“You got it,” he mumbles before dropping into his stall and pulling his cell out.
As the rest of the guys continue getting dressed around me, I run through footage from the game tape we’ve been watching in preparation for tonight.
I can see their first line wingers as if they’re physically in front of me.
I can also see the plays they prefer, the direction they prefer to shoot from, and their exact stance when they do.
I’m confident. Even more so with Donnelly and Killer in front of me. Those assholes shouldn’t get anywhere near the crease with D men like those two protecting me.
Glancing up, I find Donnelly already dressed, his elbows resting on his knees and his head lowered.
Clearly, he’s giving off better “leave me the fuck alone” vibes than I am, because no motherfucker is talking to him right now.
Resting back, I stretch my legs out and roll my shoulders. We’ve been training hard this week, and I’m feeling it. But Parker has been working fucking wonders, and by some miracle, I’m also feeling strong and so fucking ready to take another W.
Thankfully, the clock ticks around for us to head out onto the ice before I get too restless, and I follow Donnelly and Killer out of the locker room, Linc falling into step beside me.
“Is she coming tonight?” he asks.
The need to be an asshole and ask who he’s talking about burns through me, but I know. And let’s be honest, considering his girl is good friends with Freya, he fucking well knows too.
“Yeah, I think so,” I hedge.
He chuckles. “You’re so full of shit.”
“I haven’t fucking said anything.”
“You don’t need to,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder as we hit the ice to warm up.
The stands are already filling with fans, and unsurprisingly, quite a number of them are women.
There’s been an explosion of females coming to watch games in the last few years—not that any of us are complaining.
They seem to have a soft spot for our warm-up routines, and we’re all about giving the fans what they want.
Most of the guys live for showing off, especially to women, so it suits them just fine.
Usually, I don’t even bother looking up. I’m too focused on the task ahead to care if anyone is watching me stretch my hips out in preparation for the game. But tonight, as I skate toward my spot on the ice, my eyes lift to where I know Casey usually watches the game.
My breath catches the moment I spot Freya. She’s sitting while Casey and Sutton are on their feet, shouting and screaming for Kodie. I don’t need to look over to know they have his full attention.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bit jealous watching the three of them. There was a time a lot of years ago, that I’d have given anything to have people in the stands getting that excited to see me play.
That was a long time ago, though. Now I have thousands of people come to watch me play. That’s better than one or two, right?
Despite how much fuss Casey and Sutton are making, it’s the girl sitting quietly beside them who steals my attention. And it seems that the same can be said for her, because she hasn’t taken her eyes off me since I looked up.
My lips twitch up in a smile that she won’t be able to see, despite how close they’re sitting.
Her hand shifts in her lap as if she wants to wave, but like always, she’s second-guessing herself. Needing her to feel more comfortable, I lift my own hand in greeting.
I’m so fucking glad I do, because the second she registers the move, the most incredible smile spreads across her face.
“You forgetting about something, Handsy?” Killer barks as he skates past me.
Shit.
“Nope.”
Ripping my eyes from Freya, I set about warming up. And for the first time in a very, very long time, I’m achingly aware of someone’s eyes on me as I drop to the ice and stretch my legs and hips.
Warm-up flies by, and long before I’m ready, we’re heading back to the dressing room.
I tell myself to keep looking forward, to keep my head in the game.
But just before I step off the ice, my head turns without instruction from my brain and I find her in the stands.
She’s surrounded by fans now who are eager for the game to start.
I swear, with every game we win, more people show up to watch.
Things are getting wild, and I can’t wait to see where it leads us.
Hopefully, all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals.
She startles the instant our eyes collide, and she quickly looks away. I’m too far away to see, but I know her cheeks are rosy pink from being caught.
I play one of my best games of the season.
To be fair, the whole team does. We end up winning five to zero, with Linc and Kodie both scoring two each, and, much to his delight, Monroe scoring one.
I must admit that even I cracked a smile when he embarked on his celly dance as his goal song filled the arena.
And he’s still buzzing as we get showered and changed after the game.
Having his family in the stands definitely did good things for him, and I can’t lie, I’m pretty sure having someone there for me helped as well.
The whole game, no matter which end of the ice I was, I could feel her gaze on me.
I might not get the kind of attention our goal scorers do, but something told me that while she was on her feet shouting and cheering with the rest of our fans, she wasn’t just celebrating the goal scorers but my performance as well.
It was a weird feeling, knowing someone was in the crowd, watching me specifically.
I’m pretty sure there’s only ever been one person in my life who’s done that before, and I can say hands down that he was nowhere near as hot as Freya.
“First round is on Marilyn,” Killer shouts as we all make our way out of the friends and family suite after the game, everyone more than ready to hit the dive bar a few streets over that’s become our regular spot to hang out after games.
“Fuck off, I can’t afford that on my ELC,” he barks.
“Dude, you don’t want to look cheap in front of your sister,” Linc points out.
“My sister doesn’t give a fuck about money.”
“Still your fucking round.” Linc throws his arm around our rookie before scrubbing his closed fist against his head, messing up his hair.
“Fuck off,” he shouts as he fights to get away.
We all head to the parking garage and pile into cars.
The Fractured Compass is already buzzing when we arrive.
Quite a few fans have discovered it’s where we go, and it seems to get busier after every home game.
A cheer goes up the moment they notice we’ve arrived, but thankfully, other than the odd conversation at the bar, they generally leave us to enjoy our evening.
They’re just happy enough to share the same space as us, which is a fucking relief.
As we head to our usual booth, I watch as Kodie makes a beeline to where Casey is chatting to Freya, Parker, Hailee, our PR director, and Brooke, one of the team’s content creators.
The second Casey sees her man coming, she turns away from whatever the girls were saying and jumps into his arms. It doesn’t matter that they saw each other less than thirty minutes ago at the arena; from the way they embrace each other, it could have been months.
Linc and Parker aren’t that much better. In fact, only minutes later I discover they’re worse as he shoves his tongue down her throat as if her big brother isn’t standing a few feet away.
“Fuck my life,” Donnelly mutters before sliding into the booth behind Killer. “Someone get me a shot or twelve.”
I can’t help but laugh at the poor motherfucker as I rip my eyes from their PDA in favor of Freya.
For the first time in years, I have a decision to make.
My boys, or a girl.
They’re gonna grill me for it if I choose to go to Freya. Well, Linc won’t; he’s too distracted by his own girl right now. But I don’t doubt that Killer and a few others will watch my every move.
I glance at the guys filling the booth before looking back at Freya.
“Fuck it.”