Excerpt from Broken As Puck #2
“I’d be happy to hear any suggestions after this meeting,” she said, running a hand through her hair. Far too many eyes followed the movement for my liking. “In addition to the fundraisers, we’ll be designing a new mascot, so any thoughts on that are welcome—”
“A fox!” Jesse called, ignoring the glare Robertson shot at him. “Because we’re clever and quick.”
“What about a wild dog?” a rookie suggested. “Something with teeth. Foxes are too…cute.”
“Ooh, a honey badger!”
Chelsey cleared her throat. “Bring me your ideas later. I’m happy to listen. Anyway, as Mr. Robertson said, we’ll have a documentary crew filming a mini docuseries over the length of the season. I don’t have many details about that yet, so we’ll fill you in later.”
She stepped aside, and Robertson moved forward.
“All of you are required to cooperate with Miss Fields. If she reports any problematic behavior, we’ll take it seriously, and you risk being pulled from the ice.
Let me be perfectly clear: If we have another PR disaster, the team will lose first-round draft picks for two years.
If there’s a second, you might be relocated to another state for a fresh start. ”
My heart sank. Damn, this was serious. If we fucked up, it could ruin the team in the future. And I didn’t want to move. My parents were in Chicago. I’d built a life here. Moving would mean I’d have to uproot everything.
“We’ll end the meeting now since we’ve all been here long enough already,” Robertson continued. “Feel free to introduce yourself to Miss Fields before you leave.”
With that, he stalked out of the room. Coach Dunn stayed. He crossed his arms over his burly chest and stood sentinel a few yards from Chelsey. Perhaps he wanted to make sure none of us would be rude or inappropriate.
If so, he was right to worry. We’d been crucified in the press over the last few years, and many veteran players were suspicious of anyone related to the media, even if they were supposed to be on our side.
I didn’t move from my spot on the sofa. I wasn’t sure whether it would be best to go and talk to her now, so it was out of the way, or if it would be better to wait until everyone else had left, so we didn’t have an audience.
That option would probably earn me more points with her, because even if she’d told management, I doubted she’d want the team knowing about our past.
As I deliberated, Jesse strolled right up to her and said something that made her laugh. I narrowed my eyes, my jaw tensing as Jesse grinned and practically oozed charisma all over her. That asshole.
When he asked whether she was open to tutoring players outside of work hours—followed by a wink—I couldn’t hold my tongue anymore.
“Cut it out,” I snapped, marching over and standing between them. “She’s a professional. Don’t treat her like she’s here to entertain you.”
Jesse blinked, startled. “Calm down, man. I—”
A hand fell on my shoulder, and I glanced over to see Coach Dunn right beside me.
“Both of you need to cut this out. Young, he’s right. Don’t flirt with Chelsey. But, Matthews, you can’t jump down your team members’ throats if they do or say something you don’t like. That’s how fights start, and we can’t afford any of those this season.”
I flinched, rebuked. The last thing I wanted was to be part of the problem, but someone needed to call people on their behavior, right?
“It isn’t your job to handle your teammates,” Coach said firmly. “If you have any concerns, bring them up with me, Assistant Coach Willets, or Mr. Robertson.”
I deflated. “All right. Sorry.”
He stepped back. “That’s fine. And, Young, remember what I said.”
I tried to catch Chelsey’s eye, but she avoided my gaze.
Sensing that she didn’t want to speak with me while so many people were still around, I retreated to the sofa, took out my phone, and checked my emails as a group formed around her, spouting ideas for the mascot and wanting to know more about her.
Only when most people had left did I make my way over.
Nick Kelly, who’d been on the team as long as me, was discussing something with her, keeping a far more professional distance between them than Jesse had, his thumbs hooked into the pockets of his jeans. I nodded to Nick. He was one of the few players on the team I unreservedly respected and liked.
“Chelsey, this is Matt Matthews,” Nick said, gesturing to me. “He’s a powerhouse in defense. Try not to mock him for his name. That’s on his parents, not him, and he gets enough of it from the rest of us.”
Chelsey tilted her head in acknowledgment, and once again, her smile failed to reach her eyes. I felt a pang at knowing that I was likely the reason she’d lost a little of her spark.
“Hi, Matt.” Nothing in her expression spoke of familiarity. To anyone else, it probably seemed like we were meeting for the first time. Perhaps that’s what she wanted. Personally, I hated the coolness between us. She’d always been such a warm person that the contrast was stark.
“Hey, Chelsey. Welcome to the team. I’m sure you’re going to do wonderful things for our reputation.”
Her eyebrow twitched. “Thank you.”
Nick glanced between us and then rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m going to hit the road, but I’ll see you both tomorrow. Or at least, see you tomorrow, Matt. Chelsey, nice to meet you.”
Nick hurried out, leaving me alone with my ex—well, alone except for Coach Dunn, who was still leaning against the wall but now talking to someone on his phone and not paying us much attention. He probably assumed that anyone who was going to cause any trouble had already left.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, soft enough that I didn’t think Coach would be able to overhear. “About everything. God, Chels, I—”
“Stop it,” she hissed, holding up her hand to cut me off. “What happened is in the past. Don’t mention it again.”
With that, she turned on her heel and marched out. It was all I could do to prevent my gaze from dropping to the sway of her full backside.
Well, that went swimmingly.
I’d known that she wouldn’t be pleased to have to talk to me, but I’d hoped to at least discuss things with her and come to some kind of understanding. It seemed like she’d prefer to just bury everything and hope for the best.
I sighed and dragged my hands down my face, then crossed the room to snatch my bag off the floor before traipsing out. I made my way along the corridor, and as I reached the top of the stairs, I nearly had a heart attack when someone appeared beside me.
“What’s going on between you and the publicist?” Nick asked as he fell into step beside me, ignoring my loud gasp and the way I tripped over my feet.
“Nothing. Jesus, don’t sneak up on a guy like that.”
Nick flashed me the grin that everyone found so charming. Sure, Jesse was the team’s playboy, but Nick was the good guy. The one who always meant well and could get away with prying more than others because of his general niceness.
“She was a little reserved but friendly enough to everyone else,” he said as we reached the bottom of the stairs and started around the edge of the rink.
“Compared to that, she was practically glacial with you. Plus, there is the fact that you shouted at Jesse for flirting with her, and right now, you look like a kicked dog.”
I pulled a face. Did I really?
“So?” he prompted.
I weighed up whether to reply. If Chelsey preferred that no one know about our past, I wanted to respect that, but I’d been keeping all my worries bottled up inside for months now, and it would be such a relief to talk to someone about it. Especially someone like Nick. I could trust him.
“Can you keep this confidential?” I asked as the sliding doors opened and we stepped outside into a cold wind.
“Yeah, of course.”
Our cars were in the same direction, so we started across the parking lot toward them.
“Chelsey and I dated in college,” I admitted, keeping my gaze on the vehicles rather than on him. “I was crazy about her, but I fucked up and lost her.”
“Fucked up how?” Nick asked as we reached his car. “Did you cheat?”
“No! I would never cheat on her. But I hurt her badly enough that she left me, and I’ve always regretted it.”
Nick rested his hip against the driver’s side door and made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Are you going to try to win her back?”
I laughed, even though I didn’t find any of this the least bit amusing. “I would love to, but I get the feeling she’d rather run me over with a Zamboni.”
He grimaced. “Perhaps you’re better not to push her, then. Do you want my advice?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
“Do what you can to make her job as easy as possible. Maybe she’ll warm up to you.”