Chapter Four
SELWIN
My first week in New York goes by before I know it.
I settle into my condo, which is bigger than I expected, and get into a solid routine.
My days are packed with workouts, practices, and meetings with Hugo and his PR team.
Gone are the days when I’d be out at a party or a bar in the evening and late into the night.
Now I don’t see or talk to anyone outside of work.
And by the time my day’s done, I’m too tired to be lonely.
I keep my interactions with my teammates short but polite.
Even with Finn. Especially with Finn.
It pains me to be cold to him, but it’s for the best. All I want is to make it through this season as quietly as I can and then things will get easier.
When? Well, that I don’t know.
No one on the team has said anything negative to me, but I sense a subtle shift with a few of the guys.
Brady and St. Clare, two of my fellow d-men, barely make eye contact outside the ice.
Maybe they’re not friendly or maybe it’s me.
I wonder if anyone else has picked up on it.
Is it because I’m new to the team, or does it have to do with my sexuality?
My guess is the latter because the two seem okay with the rest of the guys. They even talk to Finn once a while.
Speaking of my defensive partner…
“Hey.”
I finish lacing up my skates and look up to find anxious eyes staring back at me.
“Hey, Finn. How’s it going?”
“Good. Great. How about you?”
He shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other, and I feel like crap for being cold to him.
“Same, but I’m looking forward to a break this weekend before the chaos of the season starts.”
“Yeah, no shit.” He pauses and bites his lower lip. “Is… is everything okay?”
“Of course. Why do ask?”
His shoulders drop.
“You seem really quiet this week. Like, barely talking. I hope I didn’t do or say anything to upset you.”
“No, not at all. It’s not that.” I look around, but no one seems to be paying us any attention. “I just think it best if we stick to communicating on the ice. For your sake.”
Awareness dawns in Finn’s expression and he shakes his head.
“In case you haven’t noticed, Sel, I’m a big boy just like you,” he snaps. “I can handle myself. And I don’t let anyone dictate who I can and can’t talk to.”
I’m not surprised by Finn’s statement but the tone of his voice.
Unfortunately, I don’t get a chance to reply because he stalks off toward the exit.
Stunned by his reaction, I finish getting my gear on, grab my stick, and head for the ice.
Finn’s already warming up and I skate in his direction, only, the glare he gives me has me stopping short.
I’ve never seen him pissed off before, like an angry ginger cat, and it’s unnerving.
I need to talk to him, to explain. He’s got to see that I have a point.
The less interaction with me the better.
“Trouble with the rookie already? You gonna create drama here too?”
What the fuck? I turn around to find Brady smirking.
“There’s no trouble.”
“Doesn’t look that way to me.”
“Maybe you need contacts,” I snipe, not appreciating his snarky tone.
“Maybe you need to mind yourself or find another team.”
Before I can say another word, Range signals for us to get our asses moving. I ignore Brady, and his comments, and start my warmup. It isn’t long after that when Coach Range blows his whistle.
“Kirkland, Brady, Baran, St. Clare, you’re up first! Passing drills, let’s go.”
I join my teammates, and when Brady takes possession of the puck, I skate parallel to him and wait for his pass. He hits it harder than he needs to, the puck flies high in my direction, and I use my stick to block it before it smacks me in the chest.
Fucking hell, what was that?
“I said passing drills, Brady, not slapshots!” Coach yells. “Do it again!”
Finn skates up beside me.
“You alright?”
“I’m fine.”
Shaky, but I shrug it off. Finn gives Brady the evil eye and I nudge my partner.
“Don’t make it worse.”
“He could’ve injured you, Sel. What a dick move,” Finn hisses. “What a dick, period.”
“It was probably an accident. Maybe he’s having an off day. Let it go.”
Finn skates off to take his position and I hope that’s the end of it.
It is.
At least, there are no more slapshots. But with every drill, it’s clear that Brady and St. Clare aren’t exactly warming to my presence on the team.
Our defensive coach, Lee, keeps providing feedback, but they ignore him too.
Brady hardly communicates with me either, so half the time I can’t anticipate his moves, or him mine.
Same goes for St. Clare. We screw up over and over and it’s embarrassing.
What’s worse is these guys don’t seem to care that we’re fucking up our drills in front of Lee, Range, and every player on our team.
By the time we’re done, I’m tired and more than frustrated; I’m frothing at the mouth.
“What happened out there?” Lee stares at us expectantly. “Well?”
There’s muttering and swearing but no one has a direct answer. I do, but I’m not sure if now’s the time to give it.
Lee offers a glance to Range. “Jordan?”
Our head coach crosses his arms and offers a glare that would make anyone take a step back.
“I won’t be as patient as Lee and wait for you guys to tell me what went wrong because there was no mistaking what I saw!
” Range’s voice is sharper than my blades.
“Brady, St. Clare, in case you forgot, this is a team sport. Communicate with your colleagues like the professionals you are or find another line of work. Understood?”
Brady slams his stick against the ice and the loud crack has the rest of the players staring at us.
“Problem?” Range asks calmly.
“No, Coach.”
“Then why are you throwing a tantrum like a cranky toddler?”
I put my glove to my face so I don’t laugh out loud.
“I… I’m sorry, Coach,” he mutters.
“One more incident and you can leave for the day. We have very little time before the season starts and there’s no room for slacking off,” Range snaps and points down the ice. “Tullmore, Kuznetsov, get over here!”
“Yes, Coach,” they reply in unison and join our group.
“Kirkland and Baran, you’re up with Tull and Kuz. Don’t disappoint me,” Range commands.
Finn and I manage to salvage some of our pride, because practicing with Tullmore and Kuznetsov is a whole different game. Things click, I’m back into my groove, and I’m having fun. Finally. I feel it, and judging by the grin on Finn’s face, he does too.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Range states. “Good work, guys.”
Silence falls over the rink as Coach skates off to the boards, followed by Brady and St. Clare. Finn sidles up to me and offers a water bottle, which I gratefully accept.
“Thanks.”
“What the fuck is going on with them?” Finn whispers.
“I don’t know. It’s a rough patch,” I say and then take a big gulp of water. “It’ll pass.”
“It better,” Finn snaps. “Brady and St. Clare acted like idiots. They’re jealous because you’re a way better d-man.”
“I don’t think jealousy’s the issue.”
Not after Brady’s earlier comment about me causing drama.
“Whatever it is, they need to get over it,” he continues. “I’m lucky to play with you. We’re all lucky you’re on this team. They could learn a lot from you.”
Berg drifts by and taps my shoulder.
“Finn’s right. Don’t let what happened get to you. I’ll talk to Brady and St. Clare.”
Fuck, I don’t know if that’ll help the situation, but I’m not looking forward to this tension bleeding into an actual game.
Maybe I should invite all the guys out for dinner or something?
Would that help? Then again, what if they say no?
Fuck, I’ve never been so indecisive in my life.
I save the dinner idea for another time.
Rejection’s the last thing I need right now.
After washing up and changing back into my Rush sweats, I make my way out of the rink and down into the underground parking lot.
With every step, I feel myself return to calm.
Only, when I step up to my silver Audi, my baby, and reach into my pocket, I can’t find my car fob.
Crap, where did I put it? Panic sets in. What the fuck is next?
“Sel!”
It’s Finn and he’s jogging toward me.
“I’ve been chasing after you since the elevator,” he calls out. “You dropped this in the locker room.”
He holds up my fob.
“Thanks. I was about to backtrack my steps.”
Finn steps up to me. “What are you up to?”
“Home and takeout. You?”
“Same… only… you think maybe we could have dinner together? I mean, after today’s practice I have a shit ton of questions. I thought maybe we could review defensive strategies. I’m already anxious for our first game next week.”
“That’s totally normal.”
I glance at his earnest face, and I know I’m fucked. If the rookie wants my help, I’m not going to turn him away. Finn places the fob in my hand and I quickly unlock the doors.
“We’ll study at mine,” I offer. “Hop in.”
“Awesome.”
Sliding inside, I settle into the plush seat, start the car, and wait for Finn to do the same.
“Sick ride,” Finn remarks as he turns to me. “I don’t even have a car yet. Didn’t want to jinx it.”
“I get it. It’s not a necessity living in this city, but I don’t like to rely on rideshares. Plus, occasionally I like to hit the highways and roam.”
“Me too. Windows down, nothing but the hum of the engine and the wind on my face.”
“Right?”
Shifting into drive, I follow the signs for the exit.
There’s a lot of traffic, of course, but it’s evening in New York, so there’s never a lull.
We make it to my building—our building—and Finn reveals that his place is on the fifteenth floor.
He chatters away about the other guys on the team who live here and what unit they have.
I don’t need to know, since it’s unlikely I’m going to be buddies with any of them, but I don’t have the heart to tell Finn.