Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
EMMETT
“Would it be tempting fate if I declared this season as my best yet?” Jack gazes around our group, eyes finally landing on me as we stand at the edge of the practice rink and drink some fluids.
“With two months left in the season, plus playoffs after that, I’d say that’s a brave call to make,” Archer replies, trying to catch his breath like the rest of us.
Coach has gone hard with us today after we picked up a loss in Pittsburg. We should’ve come away with the W, but our game was off the pace, other than Jack, who finds top performances from nowhere.
Balancing on one skate, I flex my knee, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
After two rounds of surgery and the best rehabilitation program available, it still gives me a hard time.
Maria was probably right when she said that most players would’ve hung up their skates and called it quits on their career.
What she failed to appreciate is that hockey is more than just a job or a paycheck; it’s who I am, and now more than ever, it feels like the only constant in my life.
My perceptive captain drops his eyes to my leg, studying the way I flex the joint. His brows knit together as he returns his eyes to mine.
“Jenna is meeting me at Lloyd’s later if you losers want to tag along.” Tommy collides with Jack’s and Archer’s backs as he glides up behind them, wrapping his arms around their necks. “If you’re seen out with me, I’ll improve your street cred.”
Archer rears back, offended at his defenseman. “Did you ever ask yourself why I’m the January model each year for the charity calendar?”
Tommy just smirks, delighted that he’s hooked his goalie so easily. “Because the PR team figured that it can only get better from there.”
I probably shouldn’t encourage our chaotic bad boy, but a laugh leaves me regardless.
“You see, Emmett finds me funny because he knows I’m right.” Tommy tips his chin at me.
Banter like this is ordinarily right in our captain’s wheelhouse, although I don’t need to look at Jack to know why he hasn’t engaged with the others; I can already sense his eyes as they bore into me.
“Moore,” Jensen interrupts Archer and Tommy’s bickering. “Do you plan on finishing up today’s session, or are you declaring an early retirement?” Jensen stands at center ice, hands on his hips as he waits for his goalie to quit messing around.
When Tommy and Archer skate away, leaving me alone with Jack, I turn back to the boards and snag my water bottle, keeping myself busy.
My efforts to delay Jack’s inevitable inquisition are futile, and I know it.
“Have you spoken to the trainer about that?” Jack’s simple nod toward my knee leaves me in no doubt over what he’s referring to.
“My knee flares up from time to time, especially after hard sessions like today. We’re deep into the season, and aches and pains are nothing new for me.”
Jack clears his throat, and I continue, sounding defensive, “Run the clock on another decade, and you’ll know exactly what I mean.”
Jack’s one of the youngest captains in the league, and even if the accolade is completely deserved, he sometimes lacks the understanding of a veteran captain like Sawyer.
When Adrian Carney, our general manager, was appointed several seasons back, he initially showed an interest in me being Sawyer’s successor.
He wanted someone with an experienced head who could handle media responsibilities with ease.
I was his top pick to take the captaincy, and I wanted it so badly.
Aside from winning the Cup, it was the final check on my career bucket list. Then came the injury, which essentially destroyed my chances.
Other than me, Jack was the obvious choice, but for very different reasons—at twenty-seven, his captaincy tenure has the potential to be long-term, he’s probably the best player on the team, and he’s definitely the guy who holds everyone together when shit gets rough.
All that said, I’m not ashamed to admit the kernel of resentment and jealousy I felt toward the guy who had waltzed onto the team and taken the starting center position and then the entire wheel.
A lot of the guys felt like he’d only gotten his shot on the team because he was Coach’s stepson, and, yeah, I partly bought into that line of thought.
Within the space of a few months, Jack proved all his doubters wrong, including me.
Pushing past the resentment wasn’t easy.
I didn’t see the light and drop any hard feelings altogether until last season.
But that was on me and my own sense of pride and self-worth.
Jack being captain was the reason we lifted the Cup last season, and consequently, I got to at least check off one of my career goals.
“You make me nervous sometimes—you know that?”
I throw Jack a quizzical look. “Why?”
He pulls on his drink and sets the bottle down on top of the boards. “Of all the guys on this team, you’re the only one I can’t read. I’m Edward Cullen, and you’re my Bella. Every time I try to hear your thoughts, I come up empty.”
I close my eyes, part amused and part perplexed by this guy. “I haven’t read those books.”
Jack balks at me in a similar way Archer did to Tommy a few minutes ago. “What about the movies?” He nods to himself like he’s recalling his favorite scenes. “Kendra and I had a watch-a-thon during the bye week.”
Shaking my head, I clamp a hand on his shoulder. “All right, Edward, I’m your Bella. So long as you promise not to suck my blood or some shit like that.”
Grin fading to a more serious expression, he checks over his shoulder, looking to see if Coach needs us yet.
He turns back to me, face now stoic. “I need you to tell me the truth. As your captain, I need to know if you’re good for the rest of the season. You and Tommy are our first choice on the defensive line, and you know that. If we need to give you less ice time, then we ca—”
“I don’t need a rest,” I voice, cutting across his sentence. “I just need to be more thorough with recovery after games and probably step sessions back up with the trainer.”
My face is a plea for him to drop the uncertainty and give me the benefit of the doubt.
Just like I did when he was a rookie.
The next few seconds could only be described as a stare-down, although it isn’t aggressive, more an analysis of each other’s thoughts.
Jack breaks first, and I heave an internal sigh of relief. Maybe he can sense how much I need hockey in the wake of the breakdown in my marriage, or perhaps he recognizes the chance his teammates gave him when he first stepped onto the team.
I don’t know. I’m just grateful for the reprieve.
“Do you want to hit Lloyd’s tonight?”
“Are you going?” I reply, pleased at the change in subject even though I’m not all that eager to head out.
I was hoping to see Scott after his surgery, but a week later, he still isn’t discharged from the hospital, and by the time I get home from practice and change, visiting hours will be over.
Jack scratches at the back of his neck. “I feel like the team needs to bond over the shitshow in Pittsburg. I’ll probably show up for a couple of hours.”
My low mood tempts me to decline and spend the night slumped on my couch with a meal for one.
“You should come out.” Jack’s encouraging voice has me wondering if he is, in fact, Edward Cullen.
Going out with the guys is an option I didn’t have when I was married to Maria, and I know I should take advantage of my newfound freedom. Still, the only time I’ve felt remotely motivated to socialize is when I’ve been around Billie.
“Listen,” Jack continues, “if I’m coming out and choosing you guys above my beautiful baby girl and wife, then you can pry yourself away from a date night with yourself and whatever trash fiction you do like to read.”
“Thrillers. I like to read thrillers,” I clarify.
Jack turns his nose up. “To each their own, I guess. There’s something about a romance that just gets me going.
” He leans into me like he’s sharing the secret to happiness—maybe he is.
“Kendra has a small collection of sports romance books, and let me tell you …” His eyebrows rise into his hairline.
“You can learn some stuff from those pages, buddy. I’ve made her scr—”
My hand shoots up in surrender. “Yeah, yeah, great. Whatever you say, Cap.”
With his arms folded across his chest, challenge blooms in Jack’s eyes. “If I promise to stop talking about romance books, do you promise to join us tonight at Lloyd’s?”
“You speak like I have a choice in the matter,” I huff out and take another drink.
He smacks me on the chest, interpreting my response as a yes. “Good man. You never know; you might even find a girl to have a little fun with. I think it’s high time you hooked up.”
I’m tempted to reveal that I already tried that and it didn’t work. The words don’t leave my mouth though as unsolicited thoughts of Billie come flooding back.
What should’ve been a quick lunch after the hospital turned into three hours of us talking about anything and everything. From her courses in college to the “friends” she made and lost when everything went down with the pregnancy and Tucker.
When I’d first set eyes on Billie a couple of weeks ago, I had been shocked at how much she’d changed and even more freaked out by her beauty.
Last week, as we ate steak, she surprised me again, only this time it was at her maturity and levelheadedness.
I meant it when I told her that not many twenty-one-year-olds would have approached the cheating rumors like she did.
Hell, my ex-wife couldn’t stop shooting baseless accusations at me, no matter how many ways I tried to prove my loyalty to her.
Tucker Price is a fucking idiot. I don’t need all thirty-five years of my experience to conclude that.
“I’m not interested in getting with anyone.” I eventually supply Jack with an answer as we slowly glide toward center ice and join the others. “I need to keep my life simple and uncomplicated.”