Chapter 4 #2
The next day, we start work a little later because the team has a home game that evening. Following the action on game day is now part of my job, and this will be my first game since starting the internship.
Everyone in the office is buzzing, talking about how exciting game days can be.
“All ready for your first game?” Samantha asks me as we sit in our office.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to experience the atmosphere live,” I tell her with a sigh.
I’m sad my dad couldn’t make it to this first game, but he promised he would try for the next one.
Hopefully, we’ll get to experience lots of games together in the coming months.
“Yeah, and I’m sure there will be plenty of opportunities for exciting content for the guys and their profiles,” she responds.
Samantha isn’t wrong, and I’ve planned to shoot some content for some of the guys and their profiles.
We also have all the professional photographers in attendance who will send their pictures and videos after the game, which we can use.
As the day progresses, the hum of excitement intensifies. When it’s finally time to head over to the rink, I’m bursting with anticipation.
We arrive before the doors open to the public, giving me plenty of time to shoot content with the players before they start getting ready.
I’ve just finished with one of them when I feel him. I don’t even need to look his way to know he’s there.
I sense his eyes on me, but I keep my focus straight ahead, not daring to glance in his direction.
“Okay, I’m up next!” Aaron says to me, appearing with a huge smile on his face.
We’ve decided to create a short video for his profile, giving fans a peek into game day as an NHL player.
He will primarily film the videos himself to keep them authentic, but we also chose to capture some shots of him around the arena, arriving and heading to the locker room.
I follow him with the phone I use for shooting content, and once we’re finished, it’s time for him to head to warm-ups.
I say goodbye to Aaron and head back.
Just as I turn the corner, I collide with a solid chest of hard muscle.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” I say as I step back and look up, straight into Alexander McGregor’s eyes.
Instantly, that damn tingle starts in my belly, and I curse myself for being so affected by him.
“You know what, never mind,” I say and step out to pass him, but he steps in my way.
Seriously, how old are we?
I glare up at him, but that only seems to encourage him further, and he tilts his head slightly while looking at me.
“I’m not sorry at all. It seems that inflicting physical harm is your specialty,” he says, and even though his tone is teasing, I still feel my temper rising.
The way he’s looking at me, like I’m just a joke, irritates me.
He should be apologizing, for Christ’s sake.
But no, of course, the ego of the captain matches his height way above everyone else.
I huff and cross my arms.
“And verbal insults are your speciality,” I say, my tone sharp.
I step past him, and even though I’m tempted to step on his foot with my heel, I figure one of us should try to be the mature one and decide against it.
He’s also playing an important game, so damaging his foot wouldn’t be wise.
It would also kind of prove his point of physical harm.
Can’t have that.
“Wait, Sarah,” he calls, but I don’t turn around, hurrying down the hallway, leaving him behind.
I have to get away, away from him.
He’s too much.
Invading my every sense, lighting my blood on fire, making me feel things I really shouldn’t.
It makes me feel out of control.
I’m relieved when I spot Samantha, and we go to find our seats before the craziness begins.
The team has several VIP boxes we could watch the game from, but we decided that being among the crowd was how we wanted to do it.
Nothing beats the atmosphere of passionate sports fans.
The teams are introduced, and of course, Alexander is the last one to enter the ice.
The arena goes wild when he steps on the ice, and he gives a quick nod to the camera before moving on.
As for the media attention, he doesn’t seem like someone who loves the spotlight. Even though he’s clearly a favourite among the fans, he doesn’t perform showy acts like some other players.
Noah, for example, will wink at the camera or flash a dazzling smile, making all the ladies melt in their seats and at home.
When the camera shifts to Liam warming up in the target area, I glance at Samantha and catch her small sigh.
I haven’t asked her about that whole thing yet, but I make a mental note to bring it up sometime. Maybe over a glass of wine sometime.
The first line of players includes the top players, known as the star lineup. Liam is the team’s starting goalie. Noah and Aaron play defence. The centre is a player named Benjamin. The forwards are Alexander and Michael.
When the game starts, it’s clear the guys are on the first line for a reason.
The speed and precision in every pass of the puck make it seem easy. But I know from watching a lot of hockey that it isn’t easy, and these guys have worked hard to become this coordinated.
The game continues with rapid changes and commands from their coach.
It’s clear that Alexander also plays a key role in the decisions made and the plays they run. He will give a signal, and the others will follow.
It’s beautiful, and it’s obvious that he’s their captain for a reason.
Seeing him and his team in their element like this makes me feel all sorts of emotions.
A bunch of sexy athletes, all sweaty and pumped up on adrenaline? Check.
Before anyone judges me for the sexualization of these men, it’s been a while, and this girl is starved for some male touch.
I could download one of those apps before I combust while watching hockey.
When the first period is done, the score is still 0-0. The Coyotes have been the stronger team, but the shots have just missed the net or gone into the goalie’s hands each time.
When the clock buzzes, Samantha and I exchange looks, and I sense I’m not the only one affected by these men.
“You feeling alright?” I ask her, a smirk playing on my lips.
“Girl, don’t you dare sit there like you’re not affected. It’s just something about a man in his uniform and the passion in hockey.” She sighs and leans back in her seat.
Can’t say I disagree with that.
The second period has started, and when Chicago finally scores their first goal, the arena goes wild.
The cheers are loud, and as I look around, taking it all in, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to experience this.
I record a short video, and I’ll send it to my dad after the game. He would love this atmosphere, and I can’t wait to share this moment with him.
When the first goal is scored, it’s like the team unlocks another level.
As the game nears the end, the score is 1-4 in favour of Chicago.
We’re approaching the last minute, and the first line heads back out on the ice.
Noah skates around the net, searching for an opening. A few passes go by, but the opposing team manages to steal the puck.
I’m on the edge of my seat, watching the last few seconds.
Just as they make a pass, Benjamin is there and manages to steal the puck before sending it straight to Alexander.
He takes the shot and scores just before the buzzer signals the end of the game.
The arena erupts again.
Nothing beats a last-second goal in hockey to keep the crowd on its toes.
Samantha and I jump up and down.
What a first game. At least for me.
The others have been here the whole season, so this is nothing new to them.
The entire team gathers around Alexander, then playfully kneels and praises him, which makes me laugh.
They love and respect their captain and the player he is.
When they’re done with their show, the guys all hug and pat each other on the back before thanking the rival team for the game.
Some perks of working for the team include press badges that give us access anywhere in the arena.
That also means skipping the line to get outside.
We make our way out toward the media section, where the rest of the PR team is.
The players will take a quick shower before heading out to do the media part of their job. I can imagine quite a few of them being very tired, but soon enough, they start rolling out and doing interviews about their game.
I’m recording videos and taking photos I can use for both individual and team profiles.
When Alexander arrives, it’s like every nerve ending is set on fire.
His hair is damp, and he’s wearing black slacks with a dark grey dress shirt. It’s open near the top of his chest, and my mouth nearly waters at the sight of him.
Holy hell.
If I liked him in his hockey gear, his post-game look is even more attractive.
I look down at the phone in my hand, trying to calm myself down.
I need to get a grip.
He’s just a man.
A very sexy and confident man who led his team beautifully.
But still, just a man.
When I look up again, I see his gaze already fixed on me, and I quickly look away.
It would be so much easier if he didn’t do that.
Anytime he’s nearby, I feel his eyes on me, and it makes me feel exposed.
In the worst and best way possible.
Worst because he stirs up feelings and thoughts I shouldn’t have about a man who not only insulted me but also works with me.
The best because he makes me feel so womanly—desired and wanted. Even though he’s toned down his stare since our first meeting, there’s no denying the desire between us.
When he’s near, it feels like parts of me are lit up, making me feel out of control, which is scary as hell.
I take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm going on inside me, still feeling his gaze on me, but not daring to return his stare.
Once the media segment of the game is over, we decide to go out for a drink at The Rove.
When we arrive, some players are already there. They probably had their private chauffeurs on standby outside the arena.
We make our way over and find some seats.
When my foolish eyes look for Alexander, I remind myself once again that I have no reason to seek him out. Or anyone else, for that matter.
“I’ll just go to the restroom,” I tell Samantha, who’s deep in conversation with some of the guys.
I head to the restrooms and take care of my business.
When I step out, Alexander is standing right outside the door, as if he’s waiting for someone. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking at me with a small smile playing on his lips.
“You lost there, captain?” I ask, trying my best to keep my voice steady.
“No, I’m right where I want to be, actually,” he says casually, but the way his eyes are on me is anything but casual.
He takes a step toward me, and I turn to the side, anything to avoid his gaze. He smells heavily, and I feel the urge to run.
“Okay, then. You can stay back here, and I’ll go back to my table,” I say.
Just as I’m about to take my first step, he cages me against the wall with his arm raised right beside my head.
Christ.
His biceps bulge under the shirt, and I swallow hard.
“Not so fast there. What is it with you and running away from me? Do I make you scared?” He leans slightly into me, not touching but making it clear I’m not getting away.
I probably could if I really wanted to, but part of me secretly enjoys this.
The challenge.
The pull.
The fight.
“I’m not scared of you, captain,” I say, and he lets out a low chuckle.
“Oh, Sarah, it would be more convincing if you actually used my name. This whole ‘captain’ thing seems like a way for you to hold onto some control. The only problem, angel, is that two can play that game, and you will lose.”
It makes me feel exposed that he called my bullshit.
I’ve never used his name to his face, and damn him for seeing through me.
The nickname ‘captain’ is a way to create distance, and he knows it.
Now he’s just gone ahead and given me my own nickname. Not sure ‘angel’ is really what I would have picked for myself. I’ve slapped him across his face, not very angel-like of me.
Part of me wants to prove his theory wrong and say his name, but I feel like that would give him the upper hand, and we can’t have that.
“If we’re all done here, you can let me out of your small little cage, and I’ll be on my way.”
Just as I think he’ll remove his arms, he leans down to my ear, and I hold my breath at how close he is. Being caged in like this shouldn’t light me up this bad, but it does.
He always feels overwhelming.
Having him in my personal space is electrifying.
His warmth radiates from his body to mine. I feel my pulse hammering and my skin tingling. He’s so close I feel his breath on my ear as he speaks with a low voice in my ear.
“Nothing about me is little.”
Then he steps back, drops his arms, and begins walking toward the bar.
I remain standing in the hallway, feeling like he just won the first round after all, with my thoughts filled with images of Alexander and everything that’s not little about him.