17. Victoria
VICTORIA
“There are pictures,” Cambrie teases as the women prepare for the next faceoff of the second period.
I ignored her, like I had been through the entire game. Apparently, Stars players told Stripes players, who then told both women's teams, and of course, word of mine and Josh’s kiss made it through to the press side, and there was nothing my colleagues loved more than juicy gossip.
This was all coming from my so-called friend who was basking in my embarrassment with unrestrained joy.
It wasn’t like I was ashamed or regretted the kiss. I wouldn’t take it back even if I could, but I wasn’t thrilled it was now common knowledge in our little bubble. At least no one had made it public. My peers had at least enough respect not to blast me.
Oh no, they brought the shame directly to my face.
Joe was the only one I worried about, but he hadn’t been welcomed and included in our press group of friends, so maybe no one told him.
Even if they did, he probably didn’t remember the name of the person he stepped directly on to get to where he was.
Speaking of, he was standing next to the West bench, hardly paying attention to the game.
I glared at him, hoping deep down his subconscious sensed my dislike.
A hand waved next to him, and I realized Miles caught me staring and was distracting me before anyone else could.
I gave a small wave back. I hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to him in the last few days, and he didn’t exactly look happy with his reassignment either.
“No, there are not,” I finally broke my silence.
“There are.” Her phone appeared in my vision, and I flinched away. That was, in fact, a picture, although fairly blurry, of me and Josh. Our heads were close, but we weren’t kissing, at that time. Likely just before or after.
“Put that away.”
“I’ll send it to you.” She bumped her shoulder against mine, and a moment later, my phone vibrated in my pocket.
“I can send it to him too.” She pointed across the ice to the section I'd been doing my best to ignore.
Both men’s teams had shown up to show their support of the women. The fifty or so players were a cheering, shouting, dancing, chanting mass of red, white, and blue.
I loved it.
Not only were they supporting their teammates, but they were showing the public that they cared about women. That their games were just as intense and entertaining. That they were worth watching.
I couldn’t wait to see the response that came from their outpouring of support.
“Go for it.”
She didn’t have his number; I was fairly certain.
“M’kay.” She tapped her screen a few more times before finally putting it away.
“Wait, did you really?”
“Yeah,” she slammed her fists on the glass as players skated by.
“How?” I narrowed my eyes.
“I asked for it last night when you were getting a corn dog.” She glanced at me, doing nothing to hide her wicked smile. “In case I ever needed to get a hold of you.”
“Why would you call him to get to me? You have my number?”
“Cause I felt pretty confident about you two spending more time together, and you might get distracted during breaking news.”
“Breaking hockey news?”
She shrugged. “It could happen.”
“Wouldn’t I hear about it first if I’m with him?”
“Not if it was the East team.”
“I don’t even have his number.”
She scrunched her nose, “Why not?”
“I haven’t asked for it.”
“Why not?” she repeated, this time with annoyance.
“I haven’t had a need for it.”
“You don’t want to text him? Wish him luck before a game or ask if he wants to hang out later?”
Of course I did, but he was just as capable of asking for my number, and since he hadn’t, I was following his lead.
We were hanging out when we ran into each other; that was it.
One kiss didn’t mean anything.
To him.
Apparently.
And that was fine. We were both here to do a job, not to date.
“Do you want his number?" She started pulling out her phone again.
“No,” I bit out.
“Not from me?” she guessed.
I didn’t answer because I couldn’t help but scan the mass of athletes until I found him between Erik and Wyatt. They were screaming in the direction of the action on the ice.
“So, you’re just going to forget anything happened?”
I wanted to tell her to drop it, but didn’t want to be rude. She’d been an excellent wing woman and payment for that was a right to the details. Girl code and all that.
“I don’t want to, but I’m taking my cues from him.”
“Ah,” she stared across the ice as well. “Well, that’s the dumbest thing you could do.”
“Excuse me?” I turned to look at her, and she faced me.
“You’re going to wait around for a man to figure out what he wants?
A man who couldn’t even send you an email telling you he was hurt about an ancient article?
The same man that, when finally given the opportunity to tell you to your face, decided to run?
Oh, honey. I like Josh, but from what little I know of him, I can already tell you that if anyone is going to have to take the lead, it’s you. ”
I grimaced. “No thanks.”
“So you’re just going to let the tournament play out and watch him leave without saying or doing anything?”
That sounded truly terrible, but… “What am I supposed to do? Tell him I like him and ask him on a date?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what you should do.”
“To what end? He lives in Utah, and I live in New Jersey. What’s the point?”
“We both know we can live anywhere we want.” She leveled me with a look. “So don’t use that as an excuse. Not that I’m saying you should move across the country for a man, but he’s not in a position to relocate.”
“We spent one evening together; let’s not talk about anyone relocating.”
“But you like him.”
More than I’ve liked anyone in a very long time, but that was irrelevant. “I’ve got my contract renewal coming up, and we’re not too far off from preseason. None of the women's teams are in Utah, so if I get that assignment, it won’t make sense being based there.”
“So don’t limit yourself to the women’s teams.”
“That’s my dream,” I immediately reminded her.
“Your dream is to promote and support the growth of the sport, not be a reporter for them.”
“That is the best way for me to promote and support them.”
Her brows lifted. “Is it?”
“Yes.” What other avenues would there be?
“There’s no other way for you to be involved, directly or indirectly?”
What was she trying to tell me? “It’s the best way I could think of.”
“Because you love what you do? You’re passionate about journalism?”
Well, no. Not like some of my peers were. But I liked it, especially when I got to cover the sports I was interested in.
“Things are changing in our industry swiftly.” Her smile was gone now. “There are a lot of people moving on because it’s not what it used to be. It’s not what they signed up for.”
Like being forced to come up with silly video content rather than asking insightful questions during interviews.
“I know your contract renewal is coming up. Maybe think about whether this is what you want.”
I nodded, and she returned to watching the game, while her words ran on repeat in my mind. What else was there? This wasn’t exactly my dream, but it kept me connected to what I loved most.
Sure, there had once been a dream of calling the games and being on the broadcast side, but what I’d told Josh was the truth.
There were less than ten positions available.
I could work on the back end, but how would that be any different than what I was doing now?
I’d be one step further away from the athletes, actually.
I didn’t want to ref. I didn’t have the knowledge to coach, and there were already incredible women filling those roles.
I also didn’t want to go back to school, so that crossed off many of the team positions, like trainer or analytics. Maybe I could go into scouting or managing equipment.
But did I want that?
More importantly, what did it mean that one simple question could put so much doubt in my head?
I should be able to brush it off and go back to focusing on why I want to be a journalist, but the only answer to that question was to stay close to hockey.
Did I actually enjoy the other aspects?
Traveling, being assigned work with no say, not even getting to do research and deep dive anymore. Was any of this bringing more visibility to women’s hockey?
Was there any way of knowing?
Their games were being covered by a main network channel. They were getting attention and would be viewed by millions. They were gold medal Olympians.
They were doing it all on their own.
They didn’t need me.
I let out a small gasp as the realization set in; luckily, it was timed with a huge hit on the far side of the glass so Cambrie didn’t notice.
The group around us shifted a bit closer, and I glanced over to see Joe and Miles had joined.
Nice of him to finally start watching. Probably just in time to catch a few plays he could focus on during his post-game interviews.
Miles caught my eye and gave me a small wave. I returned it, and he offered a sad smile before lifting his camera and focusing on the action.
Soon, the game ended with East winning, and he and Joe hurried down the tunnel to find the women.
I wanted to go with them, not for the chance to be the first to talk to Crystal about her winning goal, but because I wanted to hug and cheer with them before going to the West’s locker room and giving them all hugs and telling them they killed it.
I wanted to be a part of a team again.
That was it.
I missed the camaraderie, the sisterhood, the unwavering support.
As much as I missed playing, I missed what it meant more.
Wow, back-to-back revelations were far too much for one day.
"Let's go stop the guys and get some footage of them all dressed up,” Cambrie suggested, leading a path through the crowd and down the halls to the opposite side of the arena to the press room.
The women weren’t there yet, but a few of the guys were waiting around. I felt eyes on me, but ignored them.
The big topic of the day was the athletes, not me and Josh.
“Hey!” Erik burst into the room, clapping. “Let’s hear it for East!”
I cheered with everyone, despite none of the winners being around.
“Let’s hear it for the lovebirds!” Mario called out next as Josh and Wyatt walked in.
I knew I was blushing, but fought to keep from reacting.
“Aw, you noticed,” Hartman beamed and pressed a loud kiss to the side of Josh’s head. “We’ve been trying to keep it quiet.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what he meant,” Tyson chided, giving a hard look to his teammate, who rolled his eyes before turning away from us.
“Sorry about that,” Josh whispered, but I just gave him a smile.
“It’s not like I wasn’t an active and willing participant.”
He grinned, “Yeah, but you didn’t consent to pictures."
“They’re pretty blurry,” I glanced around. “Someone should work on their sleuthing.”
“Or just ask me next time,” Cambrie winked.
I narrowed my eyes at her. “No aiding them.”
“That would have been a good idea,” Hartman grunted. “We should have asked you.”
“Hey,” I pointed at him, “she’s my camerawoman. Get your own.”
“We’ll talk later,” she told him before looking at Erik and Josh. “You guys look amazing,” Cambrie waved her finger up and down at their outfits. “I thought you looked patriotic yesterday, but this is next level.”
“You like the overalls?” Erik tugged on the straps across his chest. “Madi found them last month.”
“Got us all a matching set,” Josh bounced his shoulders, and he posed in his American flag outfit. None of them were wearing shirts and had red, white, and blue body paint down their arms.
“It’s a look,” I agreed. I certainly didn’t mind seeing his muscles on display, even if they were covered in poorly drawn stars.
“There you are,” a stunning blonde called from the doorway. She walked in with Amelia and another woman with gorgeous golden curls.
“We told you where we were going,” Erik kissed her quickly. “Madi, you might remember Victoria, and this is Cambrie from Sports Now.”
“Oh, I would have referred to her as Victoria from the pictures,” Amelia teased, laughing at my halfhearted glare.
“Right,” the other woman grinned. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Ladies, this is Kendall, my wife.” Hartman gazed down at her with a look of pure love before kissing her temple.
“I can only imagine what they’ve said,” I admitted.
“Only the best things,” Amelia said, while Derek rubbed his stripe-covered stomach.
“I’m about five minutes from becoming hangry Derek,” he warned.
“Yikes,” Amelia cringed. “We have a reservation for dinner. Would you two like to join us?”
Cambrie was agreeing before I could even think about our schedule. “That would be lovely. We didn’t get a chance to eat this afternoon.”
“Are you sure?” I asked. “If you have reservations––”
“I added a couple,” Madi winked. “In case you said yes.”
Cambrie grinned at me, “Perfect.”
I eyed her, suspicion growing.