Chapter 23 #2
I’d gone over last night to try to regain some feeling of control, some feeling of I-know-what-I’m-doing-dammit, some area of my life where things would go as I expected them to.
And Nora had blown that out of the water, too.
Nothing about last night was as I’d expected. None of that was usual.
I am more addicted. I don’t feel in control at all. I feel like I’m a snowball rolling down a mountain, only gaining momentum and speed and losing the ability to slow or stop. And when I crash at the bottom it will be a huge mess. And the chances of wiping out a bunch of…stuff…is very real.
But what stuff?
Oh, just life as I knew it before coming to Rebel.
“Thanks. But Nora and I are temporary, you know. Just until April.” I return to the table.
Astrid gives me a wide-eyed WTF look. “I was talking about the hockey stuff, but do you want to talk about you and Nora?”
I do not. Because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with her, and I’m equally sure my sister will realize that and make me admit it. And what good will that fucking do?
“Nope.”
“Okay.” She rolls her eyes as she takes a sip of tea.
“What are you happy for me about with the hockey?” I ask.
“All of it. You were great last night,” she says. “Seriously great. And we’re up four hundred tickets this morning. Well, last night when I checked. So, thank you.”
Well, holy shit. Okay, that is good.
“I was kind of pissy about all of it,” I admit.
She laughs. “Yeah, that was pretty obvious.”
“Other people could tell?”
“So much, Alex.”
I sigh. “I’ll work on it.” If I can keep working out my “frustrations” with Nora the way I did last night, I’m already less annoyed by the upcoming games and scrimmages.
Way less annoyed.
Nora makes everything better.
More chaotic. And better.
How is that possible? What has happened to my life?
But Astrid shrugs. “Your pissiness made it more fun and funny.”
Nora said the same thing. “Do you think so?”
“Yeah. It’s like the players are all a bunch of different characters out there.
Beckett is the enthusiastic golden retriever who’s having the time of his life.
Lawson is the intense, uncomfortable one who’s trying his damnedest and looking awkward, but hot at the same time, somehow.
Wes is the one who acts like he’s actually playing serious hockey even when it’s ridiculous.
It’s like he pulls off this sarcastic thing while he’s doing it.
Ingrid is like a superhero ninja or something.
She’s hilarious and fun to watch. Teddy is a goofball, but in a different way from Beckett.
He’s quieter and more subtle, which makes his humor different funny.
And then there’s you, the total grump who thinks it’s all silly and beneath you. ”
She shakes her head, but she’s grinning.
“It’s like each one of you appeals to a different person watching.
There’s someone for each person in the audience to relate to.
Some people will show up and think it’s the best time ever, and they’ll think Beckett and Teddy are great.
Some people won’t totally get it, and they’ll probably relate more to Lawson or Wes.
And then there will be people who are outright appalled that we’re doing this to hockey. You’ll be their favorite.”
I think about all of that. It’s an interesting theory, and it just might work.
“But did everyone have a good time?” I finally ask.
“Absolutely. I was watching the crowd intently. And yes. But if I had any questions about it, I just had to get on social media. Oh, and our team email. Everyone is really excited.”
I’m surprised to feel a surge of pride hearing that.
“And don’t worry, Miles is keeping track of everything and passing it on to Declan. Or passing it on to Iris to pass on to Declan.”
Iris is Declan’s assistant-slash-bodyguard-slash-best friend. But I frown. “How is any of this helping me with what I’m trying to prove to Declan?”
“You’re here to learn about running a hockey organization, so Declan will hire you, right? I’d say you’re learning a ton of new, behind-the-scenes stuff.”
I snort. “How exactly does learning the lyrics to “I Gotta Feelin’” or how to skate on a rink with forty wiffle balls bouncing around and not killing myself actually prove anything to Declan?”
“You’re learning about public relations, what fans respond to, ticket sales, what all has to go into a hockey game from start to finish.”
“I’m not doing any of that. That’s you, Nora, and Sutton.”
“Well, you’re definitely tuned into it because of Nora. But you are doing it. Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean you’re not learning from it.” She sips then sets her cup down. “And look at all you’re learning about player relations.”
“Pulling Beckett and Lawson off of each other?” I chuckle. “Not sure I’m learning anything there except to keep them far apart.”
“I’m talking about you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re learning what all goes into keeping a player happy. Accommodations, communication, how important community relations are, practice facilities, coaching—”
“We don’t have a coach.”
“Exactly.”
She laughs at the confused look on my face.
“You’ve only ever played for the Grays, and you were automatically the star and treated as such. People bent over backward to hold your hand and make you happy. Now you’re here and you’re seeing a different side to all of that.”
I definitely wasn’t automatically the star here.
“You think Declan will care about all of that?”
“If you can explain it to him. What you’ve learned. Why it’s important. How you can take this experience and use it for the Grays.”
I nod. “I think I can do that. This has definitely been…different.”
Astrid sips again. “Of course, you won’t have Nora there, making you a lot more tolerant and humble than you usually are.”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t think I’m humble?”
She snorts.
I grin and sip my tea, deciding not to comment on Nora not being in Portland. Because that really makes Portland a lot less appealing suddenly, and Jesus, it’s only been a few days and we’re talking about Portland. My city. My goal.
“You’re really doing a great job selling this fake boyfriend thing too, by the way. Everyone’s completely buying it. It’s almost like it’s not fake at all,” my sister comments, in a tone that’s casual-and-totally-not-casual.
“Yeah, and you’re doing a great job letting the husband, who is only a convenience, influence pretty much every decision you make,” I say.
I sip.
She sips.
“We should talk about something else,” she says.
“Agreed.” My feelings for Nora are going to be way too apparent to my sister, and if I say them out loud, I’ll have to deal with what the fuck to do with them when this is all over.
“Have you talked to Mom and Dad lately?” she asks.
We discuss our family until it’s late enough for me to jog back to Perks and Rec and pretend I’d slipped out the front door for an early run right after Bruce unlocked it at five forty-five and went back to the kitchen.
He and the earliest of the early birds all seem to buy that reason for me coming in at six thirteen. No one seems to suspect that it has anything to do with Bruce’s granddaughter, who looks and seems far too sweet to impact a man’s life like a category five hurricane.
I go straight to the back of the cafe to where the washing machine is.
I have a basket of laundry waiting there, and I shrug out of my now sweaty shirt and toss it in with the rest. I’ll come down and start that up as soon as I shower…
and grab the sheet with the directions from Ruth.
I’ve only done one load before this and needed her step-by-step handwritten note.
I pull a tank from the basket and shrug into it before heading back out front.
But on my way past the counter toward my staircase, I catch Leo Landry’s eye, and he winks and points at his left shoulder.
I smile, but don’t understand.
Until I’m in my bathroom in front of the mirror.
Nora left a bite mark on my left shoulder.
I shake my head. Real subtle, Wildflower.
But fuck, that’s hot. She claimed me. Marked me.
And I want to go straight back over there and leave a few bite marks of my own on my girl.
I’m in so fucking much trouble.