14. Josh
JOSH
Ididn’t owe her anything.
I barely knew her. In fact, she’d only been off my enemy list for a couple of days.
I shouldn’t care about helping her.
How could I?
Other than playing mini sticks and answering her silly questions with more than one-word responses, what could I do?
Encourage the others to do the same, but they already were.
A puck soared between my legs.
“Come on, Henson!” one of the guys, I didn’t bother looking, yelled at me.
Practice wasn’t going well.
I was distracted, but only because I was bored. I was ready for the games to start. I didn't need a full week to learn to play with a new line or build chemistry. The ten skaters on the ice didn’t matter to me. I blocked pucks; that was it.
Well, except for when I didn’t.
I typically split practice with Dexter and Kitcher after the first hour, but I was ready to sub out now.
If Victoria’s boss wasn’t interested in any in-depth interviews, maybe something exclusive?
A story the other reporters didn’t even know about?
But what? My life wasn’t interesting enough.
Hartman and Kendall were always doing charity work, but that wasn’t exactly new either.
Erik and Madeline left their headline-making days behind once they had kids.
Derek thought he was interesting, but he was retired and working for the team; everyone already knew that.
What even made headlines these days?
A massive injury, but no thanks to that option.
Scandal.
That got clicks, but what could I do that would be newsworthy?
Date a reporter?
No.
Bad thought.
Two pucks flew at me, one over my shoulder and one past my left leg.
Oops.
What could I do to cause drama without getting fined, suspended, or banned from the tournament?
Erik would be a good resource for this sort of planning.
I could do a pop-up signing somewhere unexpected. The Lincoln Memorial? Swim in the Reflecting Pool?
Do a massive giveaway for fans this weekend?
Sing at the parade? A Ferris Bueller reenactment?
Sure, that would probably go viral and get clicks, but it wouldn’t be an exclusive.
Unless I told her about it beforehand. Made sure she and Cambrie were in the right spot at the right time?
But that wouldn’t prevent anyone else from filming and posting.
Okay, so nothing too public.
“Henson! Lock in!” Coach Abrams' voice brought me back to the present, and I focused on the play in front of me.
I nodded toward the bench, but hoped he would get too frustrated soon and pull me.
Private, under the radar, quiet.
But exciting.
A spectacle that would make people talk.
This was something a pop star could pull off, not a goalie.
Did I know any pop stars?
Maybe one of the women in the Pride did—they were scary connected. I could ask Chloe, Reese Murray’s wife.
I threw up my right elbow to block a shot as something struck my head. I turned to the right where a puck was lying on the ice, and Tyson shrugged. “Pay attention.”
I glared at him. Aiming for my head was a new low.
My first problem had been looking for her.
I had no business stepping into the practice arena and seeking her out. When Cambrie pointed in that direction when I walked past the media room, I should have just waved back.
I should have gone down to the training room like I’d planned and gotten an extra workout in.
There was no logical reason for me seeking her out.
But I did.
Why? Just because she was pretty? Because she wasn’t the woman I’d made her out to be for years? Because now she was intriguing and alluring?
“Dude!” Hartman came to a stop in front of me. “What is wrong with you?”
I sighed and looked around. There wasn’t anyone else within hearing range, so I told him the truth. “I’m bored.”
Okay, that wasn’t the full truth, but the last thing I was going to do was tell any of the guys, or their wives, I was interested in getting to know more about Victoria.
They were all like sharks when it came to crushes and matchmaking and relationships.
A trace of blood in the water, and they’d swarm me in seconds.
He scoffed. “Get your head together. This is our last practice of the week. We’ll have a break tomorrow.”
I reached back to my water bottle and sprayed it through my mask, over my face. That was usually enough to bring me back into the moment, but it didn’t work.
Hartman backed up, watching me. “Don’t make Abrams mad. He’ll bench you.”
He wouldn’t, and we both knew that. “Yes, Captain.”
He turned and skated to the neutral zone.
I blocked the next four shots, and finally got switched out. Typically, I’d wait and watch the rest of practice, but I didn’t want to risk a lecture from Abrams, so I passed and bumped his shoulder. “I need to ice.”
He nodded, distracted, and I hurried down the tunnel.
When I got to my locker, I took off my skates and equipment until I was just in my base layers and crossed the hall to the training room. The door was open, so I didn’t bother knocking, but should have at least checked before I entered.
Amelia was in front of one massage table, watching Colt Bradley bend his knee. She glanced over and smiled. “Hey Josh, you okay?”
“Just wanted to ice.” But when I looked at the two tubs, they were both taken by Derek and Mario Sanchez.
Derek smirked. “Three minutes.”
“I’m almost done,” Sanchez added.
“No worries.” I leaned against the free table and wished I had brought my phone in so I could pretend to be busy.
“You feeling okay?” Colt asked as if he wasn’t the one getting examined.
“Fine,” I bit out a bit too aggressively.
“You just seemed off today.”
“He’s distracted,” Derek interjected with a wide grin.
“By what?” Colt asked.
“Nothing,” I said at the same time Derek blurted, “A woman.”
I turned to Amelia, “Why is he here?”
She laughed and shook her head, “Moral support?”
“For you?”
“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that.” Derek gripped the side of the tub and slowly lifted. “She’ll start questioning me when you point out things like Why is he here? Why doesn’t he have a real job yet? Why is he always around?”
“Trust me, I asked myself that all the time.” She winked at me.
“A woman?” Sanchez asked as I lowered myself into the frigid water. “Here or back home?”
Derek wrapped a towel around his waist. “Here.”
“Seriously, can you leave?” I snapped.
“I need regular therapy,” he pointed to his back. “Or do you need a reminder of why you’re playing in this tournament and not me?”
Colt blew out a low whistle.
“It’s been three years,” I deadpanned. “Move on.”
“Ohhh,” Sanchez looked between the two of us like we were about to break into a fight and not laughter.
“A woman, here?” Colt lay back as Amelia directed him. “A local?”
“No,” Derek leaned over and wagged his brows so Colt could see.
“Do you have literally anywhere else to be?” I glared at him, focusing on my frustration with him and not the cold sinking into my bones.
“No,” he smiled.
“So you knew her before?” Sanchez guessed.
“She’s a reporter!” Derek blurted.
I dropped my head back, considering just sliding under the water until he disappeared.
Colt shot up, nearly knocking his head with Amelia, who finally sent a glare in her husband’s direction. “Which one?”
“The hot one,” Sanchez purposely ignored my glare, looking beyond me to our teammate.
“Don’t call her that,” I slapped the water, sending a cold spray at his face.
“She’s the hot one?” Derek was beaming now. “You guys have already discussed her?”
“No,” Colt gave him a strange look. “It wasn’t like we called for a meeting. She’s just the hottest, single female reporter.”
“The Stripes were the ones to give us a heads-up. Said she was really nice and trying to keep the interviews interesting for us,” Sanchez added.
“Could you guys stop?” I looked to Amelia for help.
“Yes, we all know you’re talking about Victoria, so at least use her name.”
“Sorry,” Colt grimaced. “Victoria is very pretty, and that hasn’t gone unnoticed.”
Perfect. I wasn’t the only one she’s caught the attention of?
Not even the only one on my team. I was used to being one of the only single guys, but that wasn’t the case here.
Why hadn’t I stopped to consider this? There were fifty players here, even if only half of them were single, that was still a good number of other options for her.
Not that we even knew if she was interested in dating.
She was just as nomadic and unpredictable as us, not to mention career-focused. Who was I, or any of the other guys, to assume she’d think of any of us as anything other than her assignment?
“But if she can distract you for an entire practice, I’m going to guess that you’ve more than noticed her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said through gritted teeth.
“That you have a crush,” Derek teased.
“You’re still here?” I shook my head.
“Are you calling dibs?” Sanchez asked.
“Dibs?” I repeated. “Are we ten?”
“She’s not the front seat of a car,” Amelia chastised. “There’s no claiming her.”
Sanchez grinned. “I wasn’t going to. He was.”
I pressed my hands to the rim and lifted out. “You guys are ridiculous.”
I came in here to decompress, not get heckled. They were distracting me from what I should really be doing: thinking of ways to help Victoria, whether or not she was interested in me.