15. JESS
Chapter fifteen
JESS
Dax is in my office after the team’s morning lift. “You know you never told me what happened with Jagger.”
I feel myself instantly flush. “What do you mean? Nothing happened, of course.” The beads of sweat springing to life on the back of my neck tell a different story.
Dax looks puzzled. “I thought you were going to talk to him about slamming the door in your face. Do I need to send him into the rails?”
That’s cute. First of all, Jagger outweighs Dax by at least thirty pounds, so I’m not sure he’d be successful. But I do love the way some of the guys on the team and I have a bond already. Dax is the protective brother. He’s hyperactive like a new puppy, but charming, and ready to go to bat for me with his “best friend” if needed.
Troy is the biggest guy we have. Fans see him smashing heads on the ice, but he makes everyone smile off the rink. He’s sweet and lovable. Troy’s new thing is magic tricks. He learns one, then comes into my office to try it out. It’s so funny to see a huge man with giant hands try to make a tiny coin disappear, passing it from one spot to another.
I don’t have the heart to tell him I see it drop to the floor every time when he says, “Ta da!” with a confident smile. He always walks out while sliding the coin under his sneaker until he’s in the hallway. It’s hysterical.
Then there’s Brooks. We got off to a strange start with the puck thing and his comment on my looks. But he apologized, and it was instantly over for me. I’ve learned that’s part of his personality. He’s always pushing the line. He also has a thirst for adventure. Brooks knows he does things he’s not supposed to and wants to tell someone, so he comes in and tells me. He went rock climbing at Mount Cannon on the team’s last day off, scaling over five hundred feet.
I can’t imagine Coach would approve of that, but Brooks isn’t interested in approval, just thrills. His brother was visiting, so Brooks showed me pics of him flashing a peace sign to the camera, while dangling off the side of a rock face.
My office feels a little like a counseling center or an after-school program. Quite a few guys come in consistently to chat, hang out or get advice from a woman since their lives are filled with nonstop testosterone.
Talon, one of the rookies who’s never formally introduced himself, came in yesterday and just sat in the chair for twenty minutes. He stared at his phone, so I continued to work.
Eventually, he spoke in a whisper, “Met a girl the other day.”
“Oh, that’s great.” I did my best to stay casual as I looked up from my computer, trying not to pounce on him since he was engaging with me. “Nice to meet you by the way,” I said with a “super chill” grin. At least that was what I was going for. I’ve never purposefully tried to put on a “super chill” grin, but it seemed like that’s what Talon needed to keep talking. His whole vibe emotes “laid back.”
Anyway, he ended up introducing himself and said he met a travel blogger at a bike shop in town. I made sure not to react to that statement. I could picture him on a surfboard, his long blonde hair catching the sun—he's from Florida, so that tracks. But hopping on a bike? That didn’t quite fit.
But that’s one of the best parts of this job—getting to see these guys from different angles. I never expected them to embrace me like they have. Taking a puck to the face might’ve fast-tracked things out of guilt, but hey, I’m not complaining. I love being in the mix with them like this. As a reporter, I never got this kind of behind-the-scenes access. Maybe it’s because the last social media manager was a guy, and they’re just happy for the change. Either way, I’m enjoying it.
One Hawk I haven’t been able to connect with is Gage. He’s got that grumpy, tough exterior that’s impossible to crack. He bolted for the door when I was first introduced and hasn’t made eye contact with me since.
I don’t take it personally; he doesn’t do that with anyone. No laughing or joking with his teammates, he’s out of the rec center as soon as the whistle is blown. I’m determined to break through his brooding walls eventually.
“Oh, right. It’s fine” I tell Dax. “I may have overreacted. He apologized. It’s all good.” I do my best to stay neutral, even as my neck instantly ignites with heat at the mere thought of that day. I’m a little—okay, a lot—on edge whenever someone brings up Jagger, and apparently, I’m highly flammable. I haven’t quite mastered the whole “super chill” thing when it comes to him. Maybe it’s because my body turns into a portable heater at just the sound of his name.
Dax tilts his head. “You sure? Because you two seem to have this weird dynamic going on. I’m very in tune with my wingman.”
I blow out a breath. “Of course, he’s just another guy on the team like anyone else.”
“So, you’re not going to tell me how you know him?”
He’s really not letting up here. “What makes you think I know him?”
Dax clicks his tongue and points to his face. “You see this? Most people get distracted by my gorgeous features and assume there’s nothing going on up here.” He taps his temple with a smirk. “But old Dax, he’s sharp. I noticed you bolted when I asked about him on day one. And you got very upset when he slammed the door in your face. You don’t seem like the type who gets rattled easily. The kicker—every time I say his name, your left eye twitches.”
I touch my cheek. “It does?”
His eyebrows arch up and down like they’re doing calisthenics. “Every. Single. Time.”
Dax starts bouncing in his seat. “Just tell me, come on. I can keep a secret. I swear. I’m like the best secret keeper in all of Montana, and this is a big state. Troy told me once that—”
He starts to spill, then realizes quickly that’s not going to help his cause and chuckles. “No, obviously I wouldn’t tell you what Troy told me. Because it’s a secret…”
“There’s nothing to tell, Dax, really.” I hate lying to him. I hate lying to anyone, and that’s all I’ve done over the last week, but I have to, for Jagger.
Dax nods and leans back in his chair. “Ok, Miss Lockwood. I believe you.” He doesn’t. “But if you ever want to talk about your feelings, I’m your guy. My office is always open.”
“You don’t have an office,” I joke.
“You know what I mean. There’s going to come a day when you need to release all those feelings you keep bottled up. I can tell they’re in there, it’s giving you worry wrinkles on your forehead.”
My hand flies to my face again. What is this guy doing to me? “It is?”
Dax laughs. “No, how could you get wrinkles already? You’ve been here less than two weeks.”
Little does he know, the pressure of keeping my relationship secret with Jagger feels like it makes it possible. I sit up in my chair. I need to redirect this conversation before I crack. “Ok, enough about that. Let’s talk about you.”
Dax instantly straightens. I’ve got his attention. “Now there’s something I can get behind. What do you need to know?”
This guy just loves life, he’s perfect for my first TikTok video. “Well, it’s not so much what I want to know. But what our fans might want to know. What’s it like to follow Dax Walker around for a full day?”
He looks intrigued.
“I’m going to do a “Day in the Life of a Missoula Hawk” series on TikTok, choosing players to follow around.”
“And of course you chose me as the first participant, I knew you had good taste.” He does not lack confidence.
“Anyway, I don’t want to do the same old thing. I want to jazz it up, do something more than just see what you eat in a day or what you like to watch on tv. That’s why I was asking about special talents. I want the fans to see something that you’re passionate about or that makes you, you. So, it could be funny or unique, whatever you decide. What do you think?”
He loves it, I can already tell by the twinkle in his eyes. Anything that’s going to get Dax more time in front of a camera is ok by him.
“I’m in! I just have a few requests.” He turns his head. “Make sure you really focus on me from the side as well as straight on shots. I’ve been told I have a very good profile. Oh, and my eyes, the ladies love them, they need to be highlighted. What else? Should I wear a tank top? You know fans can’t really get a sense for what’s under our bulky uniforms. Maybe I should get a haircut.” Then he grabs his nose. “Here too, I can’t have any strays for my close ups. There’s so much prepping that needs to be done.”
He drops to the floor and starts doing pushups. “Gotta get the blood flowing.”
“Dax. We’re not filming right now,” I laugh.
“Hold on,” he says breathily. He’s really pumping them out down there. “I can’t stop right in the middle. I never do less than fifty at a time.”
He springs to his feet when he’s finished. “Whoo! That feels good.” Dax holds out his arm so I can feel his muscle.
“Very nice,” I say.
“Nice?” He drops back to the floor.
“Amazing! World class! No more push-ups. We’ve got work to do.”
Dax stands. “You’re not just saying that? ‘Cause I can do a few hundred more if needed.”
“Nope. I really mean it,” I smile at him and point to the chair. He takes a seat again. “Now, tell me more about you. What are your special skills, besides hockey, of course?”
Dax leans back and props his feet up on my desk with a smirk. “How much time do you have?”