Chapter Nine
Rip
After our two away games, I was more focused than ever on making the playoffs, and I upped my training regimen. Strength and endurance were key to succeeding in the latter part of the season, and I was determined not to be outdone by the younger players.
We’d won one and lost one, and at this point, I took every loss as a personal failure. I called Adrian after practice following our return. We’d texted over the weekend, and I knew he’d seen Neil.
“How’d the visit go? Sorry I haven’t been in touch more.
It’s gearing up toward the end of the season, and I’ve got commitments to fulfill.
” Funny how I wanted to check in with him and make sure he understood I was thinking of him.
I missed seeing him and was already wondering how to fit him into my schedule.
“Don’t apologize. I know you’re busy. And I took your advice and watched your game, plus a few others.
Oh, and Neil and I took in a basketball game Saturday night.
” He laughed. “I still don’t have a clue what’s going on, but I must admit it’s more fun being at the game than watching it on the television. ”
“You’re becoming a regular sports junkie now.”
“Hardly,” he scoffed, then turned teasing. “But I see the appeal. Basketball shorts and tight hockey pants.”
“Oh, yeah? Watching sweaty guys running across the court or skating across the ice is suddenly your thing?” Jealousy spiked through me.
“I mean…yeah. What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, just kidding.” Not really, but I couldn’t tell him that. “I’ve got the night off, and I was wondering if you want to get dinner.”
“Oh, damn. I can’t. Neil wants me to meet some people he knows that he thinks can help me. He said networking with print reporters is important, so I’m having dinner with him and someone from Sports Weekly. I could cancel—”
“No. Absolutely not.” I didn’t actually think the crossover between the two was the reason—or not all of it. Neil wanted to keep Adrian and me apart, and it pissed me off, but that was a conversation for Neil and me. “Good for you.”
“Yeah, but maybe another night this week?”
“I’ll let you know. Tomorrow we have a home game, and then we go to Tennessee and Vermont. Playoffs are coming up, and I usually sequester myself and study training films and hit the gym more.”
“Oh.” He sounded as disappointed as I felt, but as much as I wanted to see Adrian, I couldn’t afford to slack off at this crucial point of the season.
“I guess I’m being a bad fake boyfriend,” I joked.
“I’m still not sure about this. I really hate lying to people.”
The distress in his voice was real, and I decided to tread lightly. “Come on, Adrian. We’re not hurting anyone. We’re friends now, and you know I enjoy talking to you. It’s refreshing to be with someone who isn’t caught up in hockey twenty-four seven. I’m glad we’re getting to know each other.”
“Me too,” he whispered, and I struggled to keep my word to focus solely on hockey and not this sweet man who’d fallen into my life like a shooting star.
“Maybe we can meet for a coffee or hang out a little. Carve out time during the day to see each other? I don’t know…
” Fumbling wasn’t something I was familiar with—on the ice or in my personal life.
Being this tentative around a man was shocking.
I’d never had trouble finding sex; I’d had my share of wild hookups when I was younger.
Instinctively, though, I knew Adrian was much less experienced and wouldn’t appreciate a man with an ego.
And after Denis, I’d lost my swagger. My past was something I’d never given a second thought to, but now it made me cringe.
“Not something I can easily do. My schedule during the day is quite hectic.”
I hadn’t considered that. Too wrapped up in my own issues. “Yeah, I’m sorry. Well, we can talk at night when I’m finished with my game. You can tell me how your day went.”
“Oh…yeah, that’d be nice. But Rip, you don’t have to do all this for me.” His words came out on top of each other, rushed and breathless.
“Maybe I’m doing it for me.” Making myself vulnerable freaked me out.
I’d never done that with Denis or anyone else I’d dated in the sports world.
It wouldn’t have occurred to me. Even with Neil, I never opened up about my fears of growing older, becoming slower.
Easily replaceable. With Adrian I could be me.
The me I once was before the spotlight shone on my every move.
“Call me later, okay?” Adrian asked. “I’ve got to go.”
**
Each night I was away, Adrian and I ended up speaking. I coached him on hockey stats, and then we’d get on FaceTime, where I’d make him practice asking questions. One night he seemed particularly down.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he replied, but I could read his dejection in the downward tug of his lips.
“Adrian…come on. Tell me.”
“It’s stupid. I overheard Bryan talking to some of the reporters on staff, and he called me his gofer. It made me realize that’s really all I am.”
I winced and quickly thought of words to help ease his hurt feelings.
“Assistant to the sports director isn’t a gofer. And soon to be host of a Sunday night sports show. Don’t let it get to you.”
“It’s hard,” he answered glumly. “The only good thing was that I heard the news anchor, Sterling Forest, say that Bryan’s lucky he has someone as thorough and with a work ethic like mine working with him. I didn’t even know he knew who I was.”
“See? You’re making an impression.”
“Yeah. Forest is well respected in the news world. I’ve seen him in the elevator, and he just nods. Pretty intimidating.”
“Well, it’s obvious he’s noticed you. So that’s a good thing. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Thanks. I’m trying.”
Aside from our conversations, I spent my time at the gym and at practice, and the dedication showed. We won all three games that week. I looked forward to coming home and seeing Adrian for our interview. The night before I was due in the studio, I called him.
“You ready? I know I am.”
“Uh…yeah. I-I think so.”
From his hesitation, I doubted the truth of that answer. “You’ve been studying the info I gave you? Watched the games?”
“Yeah. Yours. It’s just hard to pick it all up on the television screen—offsides, icing, what each position is supposed to do. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to understand it all.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. Plenty of teams don’t act like they know the rules either, from seeing them play.
” I thought my joke was funny, but apparently Adrian didn’t appreciate my sense of humor, as he didn’t join in my laughter.
“Seriously, though, it’s an instinct you pick up from time on the ice.
You learn the rules as you go, and how to bend or break them.
Sort of like newscasting. The more you do it, the more comfortable you become. ”
“I just don’t want to sound stupid or fumbling.”
“You won’t. Tomorrow, pretend it’s you and me talking on the phone or over dinner. Don’t think about the camera.”
“Thanks, Rip. I know you’re busy, and you don’t have all this time to babysit me.”
“I’m not. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The call ended, leaving me wondering who’d cut down his confidence tree to a stump.
Not on my watch.
**
In the news studio, the audio tech clipped on my mic, and we ran a sound check.
I didn’t speak to Adrian because I could see from his rapid breathing and how he kept running his hand through his hair as he spoke to Rob DeVine that those nerves we’d worked so hard to keep at bay were eating away at him.
He shook his head vehemently, but Rob stood his ground and pointed his finger in Adrian’s face.
They came to some agreement—or rather, DeVine had made his wishes known and Adrian capitulated and would do as told.
Nothing I could say or do would help him, but even if he asked me questions I didn’t want to answer, I would. Seb nudged me.
“You sure he’s gonna be okay? Looks like he’s about to heave.”
I hated to agree with him, but Adrian’s pale face didn’t bode well. “I think he’ll be okay once we start. Tell a funny story or something to break the ice.”
An evil grin crept over Seb’s face. “Oh, good.”
I groaned. “You’re gonna make me look like a fool, aren’t you?”
Eyes dancing, Seb shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”
That morning, as we arrived at the station, I’d decided to let Seb in on the plan Adrian and I had cooked up.
“Listen. I want to tell you something. About me and Adrian.”
Cackling, Seb slapped his knee. “I knew it. You’re together. I said to Jolie last night I knew it was gonna happen sooner rather than later. I like it. He’s a nice kid. Might be good for you to be with someone out of the game.”
Denial had sprung to my lips, but then Adrian had joined us, and the final audio checks were made before I could explain. For now, though, it was more important to make sure Adrian was going to be okay.
“You’ll be great.” I squeezed his arm, and I could see the denial in his eyes and increased my grip. “Remember everything we practiced this past week. You’ve got this.”
The production assistant made one last adjustment to our mics, and Gerrard the cameraman called out, “Three, two, one.” The camera light turned on, and music swelled in our earpieces. Adrian shifted in his seat and blinked.
“W-welcome to Playing the Field, the new show where I bring you insight and information on all your favorite athletes, from football to baseball, hockey to basketball, and everything in between. Today for our inaugural show, I have two of the Brooklyn Blades, Captain Ripley Tremaine and All-Star winger Sebastian Crowe. If you watch hockey, you know the Blades are in the end run leading up to the playoffs and hopefully the Stanley Cup.”
Seb waved. “Great to be here. Thanks, Adrian, for inviting me.”
“Yeah,” I joined in. “Happy to be your first guests. Great concept for a show. Feel free to ask us anything.”