18. Josh
JOSH
Ishould have known the Pride would get involved the second they arrived. I knew better than to think Amelia would keep the kiss a secret from them. Or that Hartman and Schultz would. The moment I saw Madi and Kendall, I knew they were already in matchmaking mode.
“You have a lady friend,” Madi said by way of greeting when she gave me a hug.
“Hi, Madi, good to see you too. How are the kids?”
She blew me off. “They’re fine, just like they were last week. They haven’t changed. You have.”
Kendall looped her elbow around mine and led us down the hall, following her husband, toward the restaurant. “A reporter? I’m not sure I would have guessed that, but you can’t deny chemistry.”
“Especially when it's enemies to lovers,” Amelia, the traitor, claimed my other arm.
I looked around to the guys for help, but they kept their attention firmly off us. “We weren’t enemies.”
“Well, you hated her. She didn’t think about you,” Madi giggled.
“I didn’t hate her,” I tried to argue, but it was futile; they were already moving on.
“Does she eat seafood?” Amelia asked.
“Yes, according to Cambrie, she’s not picky.” Kendall answered.
“You guys talked to Cambrie?" When?
“Of course,” Madi pointed ahead to Amelia. “She got her number at the festival.”
I glared at the back of Amelia’s head.
But I couldn’t be too annoyed with the women because minutes later the two women joined us, and here I was sitting next to Victoria, which was exactly what I wanted.
“What are you ordering?” She leaned over and peered at my menu, as if it were different from her own.
I pointed to the item. “Shrimp scampi with pasta.”
“Mmm,” she rolled her lips between her teeth and nodded.
“What are you looking at?”
“I was thinking of linguine with white clam sauce, but Cambrie mentioned the lobster roll and now I don’t know."
“Get both,” Hartman said from across the table. “Eat what you can, and I’m sure one of us will finish the rest.”
She laughed. “Oh, to have the metabolism of an athlete again.”
“It’s rude,” Madi laughed. “But we do use it to our advantage.” She winked at Erik. “He knows I’m the worst at making up my mind when too many things sound good, so he and Reese are used to finishing off what Chloe and I can’t.”
“How are they?” she asked.
“So good,” Madi beamed. “Chloe hasn’t slowed down one bit.”
“I believe that,” Victoria laughed, and our server arrived to take our order.
She listened to their advice and ordered both dishes. Cambrie ordered her roll and pointed a finger at all of us. “I will be finishing it all.”
“Understood,” Derek saluted. “No sharing.”
“Nope,” Cambrie settled into her seat with a grin.
“So how is the world of journalism?” Madi asked once the server finished.
It was minuscule, but I swore Victoria shrunk into herself just a bit.
Cambrie broke off a chunk of her bread and shrugged. “Not what it used to be, even a couple of years ago.”
“Really?” Kendall asked.
“For me, it’s probably not as drastic,” she explained. “I still film and photograph, but my clips are cut much shorter. Like, instead of showing an entire play, it’s just the two seconds before a touchdown or goal.”
“That’s frustrating," Schultz frowned. “That doesn’t tell the whole story, who got the assists, or how they navigated opponents.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a bummer as far as the storytelling side of my job goes, but it’s not what the masses want anymore. They only want to see the result, the one-second excitement of scoring.”
“What about you, Victoria?” Madi asked, looking much more hesitant than before.
Victoria straightened, and I could sense the tension rolling off her.
“It’s shifted drastically recently for me as well.
It’s no longer about in-depth interviews or telling a full story.
The paper doesn’t care about print anymore; we all knew that, but they don’t really care about online articles either.
It’s just about quick, easily digestible content. ”
“So social media?” Kendall started nodding. “I’ve seen a lot of news stations and papers on my feeds.”
“Exactly, they don’t want me to sit down with any one athlete for an hour, they want ten to thirty seconds. They want to entertain, not educate.” The bitterness of her final words set me on edge.
“Then why do you stay?” I hadn’t meant to ask that aloud, let alone in front of everyone, but the pain in her expression surprised me to react without thinking.
She pursed her lips, glancing at Cambrie for a split second before answering me, “I’m not so sure anymore.”
Cambrie sighed and reached out, placing her hand over Victoria’s forearm.
Victoria forced a smile. “I’ve started wondering lately.”
“Especially since they won’t let you cover what you really want,” Cambrie added with a look.
“What do you want to cover?” Amelia asked.
“The women’s teams,” I blurted, not meaning to answer for her, but some pieces fell into place for me.
“Right,” Victoria nodded. “I was originally assigned to cover the men and women, but it changed,” she explained. “Now I’m stuck with these guys.”
She tried to laugh, but it wasn’t fooling anyone.
I noticed the look Kendall first shared with Madi, then Amelia. Oh no. They were up to something.
“What would you want to do?” Kendall asked. “If you could pick anything in the world?”
Victoria didn’t answer immediately. She stared at her water glass before finally sighing, “I’m not sure. I thought journalism was the way for me to stay close to hockey and help build awareness and fans for the women's league, but it’s been years, and I haven’t been able to do much of that.”
“You covered them at the Olympics, that was big,” Cambrie encouraged.
“Yeah, I’m not enough of a name for them anymore. Not now that they’ve gained popularity.”
“So journalism hasn’t worked out the way you thought. Do you still enjoy what you do, even when it’s not with the women’s team?” Kendall asked.
She hesitated, “Sometimes I do. Other times I feel a little silly asking adults what their spirit animal is or to catch a deflating balloon before it touches the ground just to get views.”
“That was really hard,” Hartman let out a laugh.
“Is there anything else you’d like to be doing? Working with the women’s league specifically?”
“Maybe? I guess the commute to Delaware would only be about an hour and a half.”
“But you would be even further removed from the athletes than you are now,” I added.
“What about working for a specific team?” Amelia offered.
“I’ve thought about that,” she admitted. “So far, nothing I’ve thought of feels right.”
Madi lifted her chin just slightly, her eyes locked on Victoria. Oh no. I knew this look well. She had a new challenge. If there was one thing the Pride was good at, besides matchmaking, it was helping women reach their goals and dreams.
“But I’m hardly the most interesting topic at the table,” Victoria’s quirk in a small smirk. “Derek, when we first met, I never would have expected you to be a secret baker.”
His eyes widened as we all turned to him. Amelia covered her mouth, but her eyes revealed her smile.
“What do you mean?”
Victoria tapped her phone a few times, and I watched her pull up a social media account. “I really enjoyed the zucchini bread recipe. Where did the inspiration come from?”
I grabbed her phone, pausing the video and holding it out to show the rest of the table. “Did we know about this?”
Hartman was choking on water and nearly spit it out. Kendall was slapping his back while Madi and Erik were leaning against each other, laughing.
“What is that?” Cambrie blurted.
“Where is your shirt?” Hartman finally recovered enough to ask the most important question.
“I have an apron on.” Derek argued.
“Yes, we can all read kiss the baker from here,” Madi said, still laughing.
“Why. . .” Schultz didn’t finish the question before doubling over when I pressed play and let the video play.
“Do bakers wear chef’s hats?” Kendall asked.
“I do,” Derek grunted.
I went back to the account and scrolled. “There are dozens of videos.”
“I got bored, okay!” Derek glared at me. “You have no idea what retirement is like.”
“But shirtless baking?” Madi asked.
“The first time I tried making double chocolate cookies, I stained one of my favorite shirts, so I decided to eliminate the risk.”
Hartman narrowed his eyes. “So you're not trying to be like––”
“It’s not about showing skin,” Derek cut him off and crossed his arms. “It’s about not ruining my clothes.”
“That’s his argument, and he’s sticking to it,” Amelia said while fighting a grin. “I mean, he doesn’t have a shirt on ninety percent of the time when he’s home, so it’s not that weird.”
“And the apron covers everything but my arms,” Derek lifted an arm to flex. “And I don’t want to deny anyone these bad boys.”
Kendall shook her head. “This is remarkable. How did you keep this a secret?”
Derek turned his attention to Victoria, a glare with zero heat, "Because none of you are investigators.”
“I was just scrolling through, minding my own business. Your video popped up all on its own. I didn’t sleuth you out.”
He grunted. “Well, I passed a hundred thousand followers, so it was bound to happen soon.”
“You’re pretty proud of that, aren’t you?” I chuckled.
“You know what. I am. I did it without ever once mentioning my name or previous profession, so yeah, I’m very proud.”
“And your followers are obviously there for your elite baking and teaching skills,” Hartman agreed.
“Not those sick biceps,” Schultz failed to say with a straight face.
“Hey, I enjoy trying new recipes and giving honest reviews,” Derek lifted his chin. “It's none of my business why anyone else watches.”
“That’s right, babe,” Amelia kissed his cheek. “Be true to yourself.”
Victoria giggled when I handed her phone back. “That’s right, Derek. I’m proud of you for finding another passion.”
“Thank you,” he shot us each a look. “And just for laughing, I won’t be sharing my goods.”
“Please don’t,” Schultz cringed.
“I don’t want any of your goods,” Hartman agreed.
Luckily for Derek, our food arrived, and the topic of conversation moved away from him. I stayed quiet, enjoying the flow of my friends talking with the woman I’d grown to feel something more than friendship for.
She fit in so well, making them laugh, listening intently, and opening up more than I expected.
It was probably the first time I’d ever felt this comfortable with someone new around my chosen family.
I didn’t have the urge to jump in and explain her, or them.
She got it. Not just the hockey side, but the way we flowed together.
Sure, we teased, but we never pushed too hard. We didn’t cross lines.
By the end of the night, we’d all be following Derek’s account and finding ways to discreetly promote it.
I loved that she could handle herself with so many personalities. She didn’t shut down or overcompensate.
She wasn’t my girlfriend, but I could picture this. . . more shared meals and laughter. . . happening again and again.
I could see us together.
That wasn’t something I’d felt before.
Dating wasn’t a priority, but getting this small taste of what it could be like, having her by my side, I knew I'd want more.
“I wish we could go out and do something else, but we’ve got to get back,” Hartman explained after he led us out of the restaurant. “No late nights,” he said directly to me.
“Yes, you have to all rest up so you can win tomorrow,” Cambrie cheered.
“Go Stars!” Madi threw her fist in the air. “You guys should sit with us!”
“Oh we can’t,” Victoria began. “We have to stay in the press area.”
“I can’t get the footage I need,” Cambrie added.
“Duh, right,” Madi shook her head. “We’ll see you after then?”
“Sure.” Victoria gave her and the other women a hug before stopping back at me. Fortunately, the others were talking, giving us a second of partial privacy.
“Thanks for coming out with us tonight. I had a good time.”
“Me too,” she grinned. “You’ve got some pretty great friends.”
I nodded. “I’m lucky.”
She hesitated before quickly wrapping her arms around my torso and giving me the fastest hug before stepping back. I didn’t even have a chance to react. “Good luck. I’ll see you after the game.”
She backed up, but I held out my hand. “Victoria.”
She stared at it, then up at me, “Yeah?”
“What was that?”
Her shoulders dropped. “I don’t really know.” She glanced over at the others who were doing a horrible job of pretending like they weren’t watching us.
“We all saw you kiss already—you’re allowed to hug,” Schultz called. “We won’t even look.” He waved his arms, moving the group along. “Come on, give the kids some space.”
Victoria faced me again, blushing. “Great, but very embarrassing friends.”
“Oh, definitely,” I agreed, then opened my arms and folded them around her as she stepped into me. I rested my chin on the top of her head, soaking this feeling in.
After a long moment of peace, she tilted her head back. “Are they still watching?”
I looked past her. “No, they’re halfway down the street.”
“Good,” she lifted to her toes and pressed her lips softly to mine.
I rode the high of that kiss all the way through our first game. And once we won, a weight lifted off my shoulders. The guys claimed an early lead in the first period and held it through to the final buzzer.
There was an energy in the locker room similar to after a playoff win. We found our rhythm as a team, and there was a sort of joy and relief in that.
It was electric.
All we’d been working tirelessly through practices for was paying off in front of the entire country.
But all I could think was how badly I wanted to get off the ice, shower, change, and get to the press room.
For the tournament, only select reporters were allowed in the tunnels or locker rooms. Normally, I’d love this arrangement, but each second from the time I caught her eye at the final buzzer felt like ten minutes.
“You ready?” I asked Hartman on my way to get Schultz to hurry.
“Give me a second,” he said, while pulling on socks.
“Why are you in such a rush?” Schultz asked with a teasing smile. “Somewhere important to be?”
I glared at him.
He laughed.
“I’m not waiting.” I told him as I pushed open the door.
As much as I couldn’t wait to get to the press room, there was one thing I had to do first.