7. Grant
SEVEN
GRANT
Professional Stick Handlers
Sully
Whoever is responsible for giving me this stomach bug is going on my shit list.
Me
Is the world ending? Liam initiated a message in the group chat!
Easy E
This is the best day of my life.
Huddy Boy
Still feeling crappy, Sully?
Sully
I’ve expelled too many bodily fluids for it to be considered crappy. I’m in the depths of hell.
Easy E
Maybe it’s karma for all the times you’ve left the group chat…
Mavvy
I can bring you some soup, Goalie Daddy.
Emmy
He’d probably prefer peace and quiet over seeing your face, pretty boy.
Sully
It was the pepperonis from that charcuterie board on Tuesday. Who brought that?
Easy E
Definitely not me!
Me
It was Ethan.
Mitchy
100%. Dude can’t lie to save his life.
Sully
You’re dead to me, Richardson.
Me
Be nice, Grandpa. No need to threaten violence.
Sully
You’re next, Everett.
Amelia kicks my ass, but I’m glad to concede to her.
“You’re fast.” I brush the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand. “What the hell?”
“I still hit the gym.” She glances my way. “I have to make sure I can beat someone when they challenge me to a race.”
After grabbing our food, we find a secluded table down a side street with a heating lamp nearby in case we get cold. We sit, and I position myself on my chair so my legs don’t bump hers.
Amelia takes the first bite of her meatball sub and groans. She follows it up with another quick bite, not seeming to care about the sauce that drips onto her chin.
“Oh my god,” she says around the bread. “I’m already addicted.”
“Easy there, messy eater.” I hand over a stack of napkins and laugh. “I’m glad you’re not wearing a white shirt. The poor thing would be ruined.”
“This is the best sandwich I’ve ever had, and I don’t usually like sandwiches. How did you find this place? Can I pay them to franchise out in Denver?”
“My teammates invited me for lunch one day, and the rest is history.” I shove the plastic basket her way. “Try the fries with the marinara sauce. It rounds out the meal.”
“Fuck.” She sighs, popping a fry in her mouth. “I might have to move to DC. I can’t imagine not having this food in my life.”
“Denver has some good food options, right?”
“Yeah. There’s an Indian restaurant I love around the corner from my apartment. They make delicious chicken tikka. I order three servings and eat them over a week.”
“Give me the name and I’ll stop by when we’re out there next month.”
“Little India. It’s near the arena and life-changing. Man. It’s a shame I’m only in town once this season, otherwise I’d be a regular here. Is it too late to put in an application for an East Coast coaching position?”
“Baltimore is getting an expansion team.” I lean back in my chair. “You could coach there.”
“It’s going to be another season before the team gets off the ground. That’s a lifetime in sports.”
“I might get sent to the AHL before that happens.”
“You’re on the second line now, aren’t you?” she asks.
“Keeping tabs on me, Green?”
“It’s my job to know lineups. Don’t flatter yourself, Everett,” she answers.
“You aren’t watching my highlights? Disappointing.
” I catch her eyeing my fries, and I move my basket so it’s in the middle of the table in case she wants more.
“I am on the second line, yes, and Coach is proud of the effort I’m putting in.
Biggest compliment in the world coming from him.
He scares me.” I pause to wipe my hands.
“Do we really need to talk about hockey? It takes up so much of our lives as it is.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s play a game. Would you rather go to space or the depths of the ocean?”
“I’ve never thought about it,” she says.
“Mull it over and get back to me.”
“Space, I guess, because people have actually been there. The ocean terrifies me and is more of an unknown. Sea life shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“You get to ask a question now,” I say.
“I didn’t know this was an interrogation.” She pops a fry in her mouth and narrows her eyes. “If you weren’t playing professional hockey, what would you be doing with your life?”
“Heavy-hitting stuff. Forget asking if I sleep with socks on. This feels like the media training the team made me go through last year.”
“Do you sleep with socks on?”
“Yup. Go ahead and call me a monster.”
“I’d never.” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. “I wear socks to bed too.”
“Look at us. We’re two peas in a pod.” I drop my elbow on the metal table. “I studied biochemistry at FSU. If I wasn’t drafted, I was planning on applying to medical school.”
“Biochemistry? Holy shit. I had no idea you were so—”
“Smart?” I smirk when she throws a balled-up napkin at me. “Thanks, Amelia.”
“No.” The huff she lets out is cute. “Unsure that you would be drafted.”
“I wanted to have a backup plan just in case. I did volunteer work in high school and college, and I’ve always liked helping people. Med school seemed like a good way to hold on to that.”
“That’s impressive. Goes back to our conversation about athletes being humans. You had a life before you became a public figure, and who knows? Maybe you’ll go to med school one day.”
“I could see myself working as an athletic trainer. What about you?” My foot accidentally knocks hers, and I change the angle of my knees so we’re not touching. “You have to answer the questions you ask.”
“You didn’t answer the space question!”
“I’d absolutely pick going to space. I’m from Florida, remember? I’ve seen the sharks and stingrays that live in the ocean. I’m not messing around with them.”
“Fine.” Amelia reaches for another fry, and I take a bite of my sandwich. “This sounds cliché, but I don’t see myself doing something other than being involved with hockey. The sport has been the biggest, most important part of my life. I wouldn’t be happy doing anything else.”
“When did you first learn to play?” I scoot my chair closer and stare at the small curve of her button nose, at the pieces of hair that curl at her ear. At her face, free of makeup. She might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “Tell me your life story, Amelia Green.”
“My life story is pretty boring.” She wipes her hands clean then leans closer too.
“I started playing hockey when I was four, and I was hooked right away. For as much as I loved being on the ice, I always thought I belonged in a role like coaching or scouting. When Wisconsin asked if I wanted to come back and be behind the bench, it was the easiest yes of my life.”
“I’m glad you bet on yourself. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have met. And you’re probably the best person I follow on social media.” I grin. “Even though you rarely post.”
“What?” Her laugh is light and easy. It sounds like my favorite song, the one I listen to while I get ready for a game. The one I drive an extra lap around the block for, just so I can hear it in its entirety. “You follow all your teammates. I’m sure they’re more entertaining than me.”
For as nonchalant as she’s trying to be, I have a feeling she is keeping tabs on me. Enough to know who I follow on social media, and I like it.
“My teammates are weirdos. Ethan has, like, eight accounts. Hudson posts his dogs. Liam’s only picture is of him throwing up his middle fingers at the camera.
And Maverick’s photos are of him shirtless and showing off his tattoos.
But… Huh.” I frown. “He hasn’t posted anything like that in months. Now it’s just team stuff.”
“Maybe he met someone.”
“If he did, it would have to be a girl who brings him down a few pegs. Greatest guy in the world. But, man. That ego is something else.” I grimace. “Sorry. You don’t want to hear about this. I’m sure you deal with enough gossip from your team.”
“I’ve heard my fair share of things I wish I could erase from memory. These days, the team treats me like I’m one of the guys.” Amelia takes a sip of her drink. Sweet tea, light ice. I commit it to memory. “Practically rolls off me.”
I don’t know how anyone could think of her as one of the guys. Not when she scoots back in her chair and leans into the sunshine peeking out from behind a clump of clouds. Not with her fair skin and the long eyelashes she bats closed then open.
She’s a goddamn woman. A stunning one at that, with muscular thighs she’s not afraid to show off and long arms. I respect her boundary to be nothing more than professional acquaintances, but I can’t deny the crush I have on her.
Sure, other women have caught my eye. Lexi, our athletic trainer, is cute.
I’ve met a few fans who have held my attention for a minute or two, but Amelia is different.
I’d spend all afternoon with her if I could. I want to know all of her favorite things. I want to hear her laugh and make her smile. I want to see her again, but I know the time we have together is fleeting. This might be my only chance to hang out with her, and I want to make the most of it.
“I promise to keep my vulgarities to a minimum.” I try not to give a second look to the expanse of skin her running shorts show off.
The last thing I want is for her to think I’m an immature creep.
I’m sure she deals with that plenty in other parts of her life, and I want to be different from everyone else.
“So. What’s your favorite city to visit? ”
“I’ve always liked New York and Boston. The crowds love their teams, and it makes for a fun game environment. If we’re talking outside the hockey world, I’d probably say Tokyo. It’s such an immersive place, and their culture is beautiful.”
“I’ve never been outside of the U.S. and Canada. I’d like to travel more, but there’s limited time for that. Maybe I’ll make it someplace cool one of these days.”
“You should try. It’s good for us to get out of our comfort zone.” Amelia bends her knees and sighs. “The sun feels so nice. I’d sit here for hours if I could. Thawing out after a brutal winter is necessary.”
“You said you were meeting Emmy tomorrow?” I ask.
“Yeah. The Stars and Goldminers want to do a photoshoot for International Women’s Day next weekend.
They’re going to show all the positions women can hold in the league.
It’s funny. We played against each other one season when she was at Ohio State, but we’ve never interacted past a postgame handshake.
I was already in the AHL when she made it to the ECHL, so it will be our first time really meeting. ”
“No way. I would’ve loved to see the two of you duke it out back then. I’m obsessed with her, and I’m determined to get her to be my friend. I’m halfway there, and I hope she stays in DC long-term.”
“I’m sure she considers you a friend. You’re fun to hang out with.”
“Are you admitting that you’re having a good time with me?” I fold my arms over my chest and smirk. “You can be my friend too. Just say the word.”
“The only thing I’ll admit is your company isn’t the worst thing in the world.” She stands. “And with that, I should get going.”
“Thanks for having lunch with me. I’m glad I ran into you,” I say.
“Yeah.” Her blue eyes meet mine. She’s trying to fight off a smile, and I’m going to call today a goddamn success. “Me too.”