Chapter Eight
Dash
Pre-game interviews are my favorite. They always fall in that sweet spot where the hype from the upcoming game fizzes like seltzer in my veins just before I’m able to unleash it out on the ice. Unfortunately, this interview is killing my vibe because the reporter is on the extremely friendly side.
Her dark brown lashes flutter ever-so-blatantly over her wide brown eyes.
“You must be so thrilled,” she says in a suspiciously seductive register.
“To get to play for the Stars and represent the West. And to be the only player selected from Springtown.” Her gaze lowers to my chest before trailing back up again. “What an absolute honor.”
A practiced chuckle ekes out of me. “Totally. I’m thrilled.” For once, I’m not sure what else to say. Her obvious attention throws me a little off kilter.
“And may I ask what your plans are for after this?” She extends the mic toward me with raised brows, clearly curious about my answer.
But am I ready to divulge my plans? I haven’t told anyone but Max that this will likely be my last season. No one in my immediate family knows that I’ll be saying goodbye to playing professional hockey in the very near future. No one except Coach and Kevin.
“I guess everyone will just have to wait and see,” I say with a wink, hoping this flirty reporter doesn’t pry too hard.
She feigns surprise before lowering the mic and gesturing for the camera guy to cut the live feed. Leaning in close enough that I’m able to catch a whiff of her vanilla-scented hair, she asks, “Does this mean you won’t be hitting up the after party at the local bar?”
Oh. She didn’t mean my plans for after this series but after this game. Was she really trying to hit on me on live television?
I back up a step, suddenly very uncomfortable.
“I’m, uh, not sure yet. Will have to see how I feel.
” Which is partly true. The team’s physical therapist will have to take a look at my shoulder immediately after the game.
If it’s hurting too bad, all I’ll want to do is bathe it in ice, then hit the showers.
Then there’s the meet-and-greet I promised to my gaming fan who won the tickets.
I’ll be streaking across the ice barefoot before I let that kid down.
“Well, I’ll be looking for you,” the brunette purrs with a very suggestive wink. I barely have time to mutter a goodbye before she and her crew move to the next unsuspecting victim—err— player.
I need to get ready for the game anyway.
As I trek down the corridor to the dressing room, my mind tracks back to Ruby and the sexiest, most awkward haircut and shave of my life.
I wasn’t expecting to be drawn to someone while here in DC—or ever again after Sarah, quite honestly.
Yet there she was, all smokey sweet goodness and soft curves, reeling me in with her addictive awkwardness.
She’s not only cute, but smart and successful in her own right.
That spark I told Max about? Felt it in spades when Ruby and I locked eyes in the mirror at her boutique salon.
I tried to deny it at first. Even acted weird and out of character myself.
But the longer we interacted, the more I wanted to keep her looking at me…
touching me…talking to me. Even if I had to say every dumb thing in my head to get her to do so.
Guess I misread the situation, or else she would have texted. Or called. Right? Regret haunts me, even now on one of the best nights of my life, the highlight of my career. I shouldn’t have made Max that promise. Little good keeping my word did me.
I shake off the lingering frustration once I hit the dressing room and suit up with the guys. Coach Badaszek comes in for the usual pep talk.
“You’ve all worked hard in practice this week,” he says, letting his gaze land on each of the starters. “Just remember we’re here to make our country—and the West—proud.”
We all nod in agreement. Though this is all for fun and celebrating the birth of our nation two hundred and fifty years ago, we’re still professional competitors through and through.
It’s in our nature to put our best out on the ice, even if the other team is full of mutual friends and acquaintances.
That fizzy sort of anticipation comes back in full force when it’s time to line up. It’s a heady experience, being here for this. An honor and a privilege we all take seriously.
The starters are announced and we skate out, one by one, to music pumping through the arena. It rattles my bones in the best way. I love the hype before a game, and tonight feels especially electric.
Before long, it’s time for the game to start. We take our positions, and I hold my breath, waiting for the puck to drop. When it does, we’re off like a shot, darting across the ice, moving in the ways we’ve practiced all week.
Adrenaline zips through my veins as I pick up speed, doing my best to keep the puck on offense. The crowd goes wild, cheering and hollering when the captain of the Stripes, Taz, and our own Dante Leinecker engage in a small tussle behind the net.
The game moves quickly, and pride for this hand-selected team swells. Even the dull ache in my shoulder can’t touch the feeling of completion that sluices through me, touching every part of my being with its rightness.
Man, I love this game. And even if it all ends after tonight, I could say with certainty that I gave it my all and loved every second of it.