Chapter 8
Eight
Sebastian
“Barrett, Virtanen, Bischoff, nice work out there today, rookies,” I call as practice wraps up.
“Keep up that effort, and you’ll make it off the fourth line and give our boys some competition.
” I look over at Nico, Chad, Westy, Rook, and Campbell, who would be at risk of losing a spot on their lines to one of the new guys, and give them a wink.
Westy rolls his eyes, muttering something in French, and Campbell flips me off.
Chad says, “Suck it, Cap,” while thrusting his hips at me.
“In your dreams, rookies,” Rook adds.
I laugh as Nico blows me a kiss and skates off the ice, not bothered in the slightest by the possibility.
These guys put in hard work at every practice and know their worth.
It won’t come easily for the rookies to move up, but our guys aren’t guaranteed anything, either.
Everyone has to contribute to the success of the team, and we’re all itching for another cup run this season after getting so close last year.
“Hey, Sebastian! Can I grab you for a minute?”
I look over and see McKenna in the hallway leading off the ice of our practice facility, waving to get my attention.
“Hey, McKenna, what’s up?” I ask as I skate over. She’s not down here much, since she has plenty of social media admins to get content from the team or her interns to run whatever campaigns she’s spearheading, and normally stays up in her office unless it’s a game day.
“I wanted to let you know about an opportunity we have coming up with Combat Companions. We’ll be bringing in veterans for our military appreciation campaigns, and wanted to include you as our player connection.
Being the team captain, you’re the most likely choice, and you seemed to have a great rapport with the dog trainer.
We’ll be filming our video pieces and taking photos after ice practice, when you’d be in dry land training, so hopefully it won’t take up too much of your time.
I’ve already cleared it with Coach Kennedy.
So, what do you say?” she asks, her eyes sparkling, head cocked, and her hands splayed at her shoulders like this is the most exciting news ever.
Honestly, it’s not terrible news. I don't mind missing a session with Scotty once in a while. Besides, spending time with Tucker while doing something for the team isn’t the worst thing in the world.
He was honestly amazing last week when I showed up and spilled my guts to him about losing Eliana and feeling like a failure as a dad.
He made me feel seen. He even understood what I’ve been through like no one else has.
He let me unload my pain and didn’t tell me to forget about it, to get over it, and move on, like everyone else has.
He just gave me space to grieve what I lost and gave me his support through a hug that said way more than words ever could.
It felt…really fucking good to be held by someone strong enough to support me, physically and emotionally. I don't know what to make of it, exactly, since it had me spinning a bit. Did I like it too much? And why? Was it just because someone got me and what I’ve been through, or something…more?
I haven’t gone back out there because I don’t want to abuse his Southern hospitality.
I’ve definitely thought about it a few times this week when life has felt especially hard.
Ma has been up my ass about spending time with Enzo and my schedule being shit, so I’ve felt the need to escape life more than usual.
The offseason is supposed to be relaxing, yet I’m more stressed than ever going into this new season.
“Sebastian?” McKenna asks, bringing me back to the present. “Are you okay with being a part of this initiative?”
I nod quickly. “Yeah, of course, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“Well, first we’ll be starting the name search for the puppy, so this week we’ll have him here doing a lap on the ice, sitting in the stands, high-fives with players, a tour of the arena, and all that, so we can have evergreen content to drop on socials over the season that will be great filler.
Then, we’re bringing his whole litter into the dressing room to do a hockey players and cute puppies segment, which fans go crazy over.
We’ll also bring them into a yoga class we have set up the same day, so we have plenty of adorable content that will make for social media gold.
I can’t wait to see it,” she says excitedly, bouncing on the toes of her Hydras neon green sneakers.
I laugh, realizing McKenna is planning out a lot of fantasy fulfillment for herself in the content she has set up for this puppy. “What are some of the name options for the puppy?” I ask.
“Ajax, Achilles, Hercules, and Hector,” she chirps, ticking the names off on her fingers. “We’re sticking with the Greek mythology theme because of Olympus and the Hydra iconography. They’re all names of Greek heroes.”
I nod approvingly. “Those are strong names, I like them. But didn’t Hercules kill the Hydra in the myth? And fans will get to vote on which they like best?”
She contemplates my comment while tapping her lips with a finger.
“Hmm, maybe we’ll remove that name from the options before we introduce the team puppy with the content we film of him around the arena.
We’ll run the naming contest, picking a winner on social media from a comment, and they’ll get to come here to meet the puppy and get a special Hydras jersey with the puppy’s name on it as a prize.
Hopefully, it will drum up even more excitement for the season and our military appreciation nights that are planned when the puppy will be in attendance. ”
“I have nothing but confidence in your abilities and campaigns. You’ve done great things for this organization,” I assure her.
“Great, this is going to be so much fun!”
What was I thinking? McKenna has a full camera crew stationed in the dressing room when we get off the ice after practice and troop in, sweaty and ready to get to dry land training.
Instead, there are eight lab puppies rolling around on the floor like floppy little nuggets, and the boys are pulling off jerseys and chucking pieces of equipment into their stalls as fast as they can so they can get on the ground to play with the dogs.
I look over and find Tucker standing in a corner next to McKenna, his big arms crossed over his chest as he watches the dogs corralled by the social media interns who are taking photos with their phones.
When he looks up and catches my eyes on him, I lift my chin in greeting.
He gives me a closed-lip smile, and his eyes light up before he looks away with red coloring his cheeks.
I quickly pull my skates off, removing more of my equipment until I can pull a pair of joggers on over my compression shorts.
“Sebastian, lose the sweater.”
I look over at McKenna, striding across the dressing room toward me as I put my gear in my stall. “Come again?” I ask, thinking I heard her incorrectly.
“The practice jersey. All the guys are taking them off, you have to also,” she answers.
My eyebrows rise as I cut my eyes to Tucker. She wants us to strip in front of an audience? I’m not shy. I’ve been changing in front of a group of men my whole life, but there’s more than my team here, and that feels a little intrusive.
“Yeah, no. I’m not stripping for your photos, McKenna. I can play with puppies in my practice uniform or change into a T-shirt.”
She sighs in exasperation. “What did you think we were doing, putting this on a cereal box? We’re building a fan base here, and they’ll lose it if we have shirtless hockey players playing with puppies.
Take the jersey off.” She’s adamant, like I’ve never seen her before.
The bubbly PR manager is gone, and a hard-nosed social media tactician has taken her place.
I’m mortified. It’s one thing to be half-dressed with my teammates, but to do it in front of an audience is too much. “I didn’t sign up for this,” I insist.
“Yeah, you did. It was part of the pretty contract that got you to this team, and you agreed to be the face of this campaign. So let’s go, big daddy. Time’s wasting.”
Westy chokes on his water, and Campbell outright laughs next to me. I shoot a glare their way, but both of them are shirtless and have stripped out of their pads, changing into shorts as McKenna requested.
“Yeah, come on, big daddy, we all wanna see you follow directions like a good boy,” Ryder mocks from across the dressing room as he continues to shed his gear.
Fucking great. Now I have a new nickname the team has latched onto. I roll my eyes and feel my face heat. This is such bullshit. I take one last look over at Tucker and hope like hell he’s not judging me.