Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
MATT
“So. Chelsey.”
I paused while drying myself, my pulse shooting from sixty to a hundred, and made eye contact with Jesse, who’d appeared beside me with a towel wrapped around his hips and a shit-eating grin on his face.
I grunted. “What about her?”
With an effort, I resumed drying myself and pulled on a pair of underwear. I really didn’t want to have any conversation about Chelsey while naked. My dick had a mind of its own where she was concerned.
Jesse laughed in a way that sounded both delighted and slightly unhinged. “You’ve never been so invested in the team’s PR before. Is it because of a certain pretty blonde?”
I schooled my features as I reached for a T-shirt and tugged it on over my head. How did anyone think Jesse wasn’t smart? He had his ridiculous flirt persona down pat, but he was far more perceptive than people gave him credit for.
“Maybe I want to be proud of my team and stop us from ending up in the ass end of nowhere.” I glanced around, my heart hammering with worry that we might have been overheard. Jesse wasn’t exactly subtle. Fortunately, no one seemed to be listening to us.
Jesse hummed. “It could be that, but I don’t think so. I think it’s Chelsey and Matt sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”
I glared at him and hissed, “Shut up. Maybe you should be more worried about your own PR and not what I’m up to.”
He grinned, unbothered by my reproachful comment. “I had tequila last night and not a single scandal resulted. I don’t think I even spoke to a woman.”
“Uh-huh.” I was dubious of that. I didn’t think Jesse knew how to stay away from women, drunk or sober. “You didn’t end up naked anywhere you shouldn’t be?”
“Nope,” he declared proudly. “I’m a changed man.”
I snorted. Yeah, that would happen when hell froze over, but at least he was being more careful. I was grateful for that.
I grabbed my jeans from my duffel bag, stepped into them, and wrestled them into place. I’d chosen a tighter pair than usual because I was meeting with the documentary team and knew Chelsey would be there. She’d always liked my ass and I found myself wanting to impress her.
Next came a hoodie and then shoes. I packed my gear back into the bag and dropped it in front of my locker. I’d return for it when I left so I could get everything into the laundry ASAP. Unwashed hockey gear stank to high heaven.
I caught up with Coach Dunn near the rink, and we climbed the stairs together.
“I’m glad to see you taking more of an active role in the team, off the ice,” he said as we rounded the corner and started along the corridor. “You’re a good player, but there’s more to being a leader than that.”
I nodded and didn’t admit that I might not have made this offer if not for Chelsey.
That would be not only embarrassing but unprofessional too.
I pushed open the door through to the open-plan part of the office where most of the staff worked and held it for Coach Dunn.
Upper management had their own offices, but the others were clustered in here.
Through the glass wall opposite us, I could see the documentary team sitting with Chelsey in one of the meeting rooms. She glanced over, perhaps noticing the movement in her peripheral vision. I tried to catch her eyes, but she made it impossible.
My heart ached. Once upon a time, we used to have entire silent conversations with our eyes. I’d never had that with anyone else the way I had with her and I missed it.
I missed her.
I stopped and Coach Dunn nearly walked into me.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing my shoulder to steady himself.
I pressed my lips together and put one foot in front of the other, my insides twisted into knots because of the realization I’d just come to.
I didn’t just want to make up my past mistakes to Chelsey. I wanted her back.
Not that I thought she’d ever consider it.
I looked out the window. The sky was clear and I knew that despite how toasty it was indoors, the wind outside would be cold and crisp. I could use a faceful of that wind right now to jar me out of my current headspace.
Coach cleared his throat. “Matthews.”
I lurched forward, fastening my hand around the door handle and opening the meeting room door. I’d been so out of it that I hadn’t realized we’d arrived. I squeezed around the side of the table, leaving space for Coach to take the seat nearest to the door.
“Thanks for coming,” Kim said, setting her phone down.
She seemed like one of those people who was permanently attached to the device.
“We’d appreciate any input you’re able to provide.
I suggest that we talk through our plan and you give us feedback and suggestions if you have any. What do you think?”
“Sounds good,” Coach Dunn said.
“Patrick?” Kim prompted.
Patrick shifted his bulky form on the too-small chair and smiled at us both. Of the three documentary staff, he seemed the most personable. Kim came across as being all-business and Max was perhaps a little more reserved, although I’d noticed yesterday that he had no problem talking to Chelsey.
Patrick launched into a spiel about when and where they’d thought they might carry out the filming and what kind of content they wanted to show. We both listened and Coach Dunn made a few notes on his phone.
When he finished, he cocked his head. “Any thoughts?”
I glanced at Coach, but he still seemed to be getting his notes in order. “You mentioned interviewing players before and after some of the games, especially if we make it further through the season, right?”
Patrick nodded.
“Can I suggest that the interviews prior are at least the day before, if not a couple of days? Most players have routines on game days and we’re a superstitious bunch. If our routines change, it might throw us off.”
“Good point. I’ll make sure to arrange to do those interviews well ahead of time.” He turned to Coach. “Will that be a problem?”
Coach shook his head. “If you liaise with Chelsey, we can organize suitable times. Do you want to speak to any particular players or have me send along a random selection?”
Patrick pursed his lips. “In the first instance, we’d like to speak with Austin Harris, but we’re open as to who else to include. Later in the season, we might have particular requests, depending on how things unfold.”
“If you do, let me know and I can facilitate that,” Chelsey said, speaking up for the first time.
“I will.”
“Any other suggestions, Matt?” Patrick asked.
I intertwined my fingers and tamped down my nerves. “Depending on what angle you want to take, you could interview some of the players’ partners or family members.”
“We’re considering that,” Patrick replied. “We haven’t come to a decision yet, but it’s a good idea if we want to make it more of a human-interest piece.”
I snuck a peek at Chelsey, wishing I could read her expression. “That’s everything I had.”
Coach Dunn leaned forward, his elbows on the table, and began talking through his ideas.
I relaxed back and let the conversation wash over me, stealing looks at Chelsey out of the corner of my eye.
Hopefully, no one noticed. I didn’t think I was being obvious, but if Jesse had picked up on my interest in her, then I was clearly putting out some signs I wasn’t aware of.
Coach’s last suggestion caught my attention and forced me to follow their discussion again.
“You mean having one of the players as a liaison for the team?” Patrick asked, interest piqued.
Coach nodded. “Considering that Matthews here was willing to help out today, I thought he might make a good representative if you need a player’s insight or if Chelsey or I are unavailable.”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Patrick said, scratching his stubbled jaw.
“It’s a good idea,” Kim broke in, surfacing from the phone she’d once again become engrossed in.
My heart pitter-pattered. If I was made the team liaison for the documentary, that meant I’d get to spend more time with Chelsey. It might even give me the opportunity to woo her.
“What do you think?” Coach asked me.
I grinned, my spirits lifting. “I’d be happy to.”
Thrilled, more like it.
I glanced at Chelsey again and my stomach dropped. She looked horrified. As if she could imagine nothing worse than being forced to interact with me. Guilt clawed at my insides. Perhaps I should take back what I’d just said, but then I’d look bad in front of Coach, and I really didn’t want that.
Besides, I couldn’t throw away this golden opportunity to get close to her. It was the only way I’d be able to see if there was even the slightest possibility of us rekindling things.
“Excellent.” Kim slid her phone across to me. It was open to a blank contact page. “Add your details here. Both phone number and email address, please.”
I typed my details in and passed it back to her.
“That about wraps things up,” Patrick said, rising from his chair. Coach Dunn did the same. The two men shook hands and Coach lumbered out, leaving me behind.
Chelsey shimmied around the table and headed for the door.
I stood, intending to intercept her, but Max called my name before I had time to move.
I looked from him to Chelsey and back again, then sighed.
I’d be able to catch her later. If I was going to be a part of this project, I needed to do it properly and not just as a means to an end.
Max held up a finger, indicating for me to wait, and then reached into his camera bag and pulled out a photograph.
When I looked more closely, I realized it was one of me.
It must have been taken last season because I was wearing the team’s new uniform and was in the process of passing the puck to one of the forwards.
“I hate to be that guy, but would you mind autographing this?” he asked, smiling shyly.
“Of course.” I took it from him and scrawled my name in the corner. “Do you follow the team?”
“I do.” He grinned. “Chelsey and I were just talking about that yesterday. I’ve been a loyal fan and I’m hoping you’ll all reward me this season by kicking some ass.”
I laughed. “We’ll try our best.”
I handed the photo back and went after Chelsey. She was sitting at her desk, apparently fascinated by her inbox. I hovered at her shoulder for a good twenty seconds before I realized she had no intention of acknowledging me.
“Could we speak in private?” I asked.
She looked up, obviously hesitant.
“Just for one minute.”
Her lips pressed into a firm line. “One minute.”
“Cross my heart.”
We shut ourselves in a meeting room and she fiddled with something on her phone.
“I’m timing you,” she warned.
My heart lurched. Damn, she was determined to let me know how much she didn’t want to be anywhere near me. I guessed I’d better get right to it, then.
“I want to make your job easier, not harder,” I said, tucking my hands into my pockets because otherwise I might reach for her. “I swear, I don’t want to mess anything up for you.”
Her nostrils flared and anger flashed in her eyes. “What would make things easiest for me is if you kept your distance.”
“I can’t do that.” Not just because we worked in the same building but because I suspected I was emotionally incapable of staying away from her. I wanted to admit that I missed her, but I doubted that would go down well. “Does Robertson know about our history?”
She paled. “No. You won’t… say anything, will you?”
I started to extend my hand toward her but then stopped myself. “They won’t hear about it from me.”
A rough exhale shuddered through her. “Thank you.”
It was clear that she didn’t want to be in the position of thanking me for anything, but she made herself do it, nonetheless.
I sighed and leaned against the wall. “Do you think you could ever hate me a little bit less?”
She frowned. “I don’t hate you.”
I almost snorted, but upon realizing that she was serious, I reined it in. “Okay, perhaps not, but if you don’t actually hate me, then you definitely want to hate me and that’s almost worse.”
At least if she just hated me, then I’d know it was a knee-jerk reaction. The fact that she claimed not to hate me but still wanted to stay well away from me and have as little to do with me as possible hurt. It meant that she’d thought about it and decided it was the best course of action.
Her teeth sank into her plush lower lip, and I did everything I could not to stare.
“Look,” she said softly. “I know we’re stuck together to a certain extent because of this documentary, but I think it’s best if we just leave all of this in the past and stay away from each other unless we don’t have any other choice. ”
My heart squeezed and I blinked rapidly so she wouldn’t see how emotional I was. “But…”
But what?
But… my wants were more important than hers?
Yeah, right.
Clenching my jaw, I moved on to the other thing I’d wanted to talk to her about. “I have an idea for a charity fundraiser. Have you heard of the Rainbow Sports Alliance?”
She shook her head.
“It’s a charity that funds athletic training for LGBTQ+ youth. It does really important work helping kids who aren’t always accepted in a team environment.”
She hummed thoughtfully. “And would you be willing to help organize a fundraiser for them?”
I nodded. “Absolutely. I think you should talk to Gadot first, though. He has personal experience with those issues, so his perspective will be more useful than mine. I’m here for whatever you need, though.”
“It’s a good thought. I’ll keep it in mind.”
I hoped she would and that she wouldn’t automatically dismiss the cause because I’d suggested it. I doubted she would—she had a bigger heart than that—but I’d just have to wait and see.