Chapter 7 Fish
FISH
The group chat goes off before I’ve even left the building.
Bouch: I can’t believe that happened.
Nelly: Fish got owned by a girl.
Felix: That’s not just any girl. That’s a St. Pierre.
Pierre: Proud brother moment right there.
Fish: She got lucky.
Evan: She got lucky five times?
Fish: Yeah.
Sully: Wait, what happened? I was at physio.
Bouch: Fish challenged Collette to a shooting contest, and she destroyed him.
Sully: You challenged Pierre and Felix’s sister to a shooting contest? The girl who grew up with Pierre and Felix, the top scorers in the league.
Fish: When you say it like that.
Sully: Please tell me someone filmed it.
Nelly: Oh, it gets better.
Evan: The bet was, if she won, he had to do a striptease on the ice.
Sully: He didn’t.
Nelly: He did.
Sully: Full strip?
Bouch: Top off.
Sully: Fucking hell.
Emmett: And the content girls filmed it. I’m sure it will be online soon.
Fish: Fucking hell.
Pierre: Please, you enjoyed it. As much as I would have loved a free meal if you had won, my sister beating you is so much better.
Sully: Free dinner?
Felix: Yeah, Fish’s prize was dinner with our sister.
Pierre: We told him only if we came along too.
Fish: It was a St. Pierre dinner. I was never going to take her on her own.
Pierre: Damn right you weren’t.
Sully: And Collette’s prize was to see Fish half naked?
Pierre: Wait a damn minute.
Emmett: It was the social media girls who came up with the idea.
Evan: I think it was Zara or Billie who yelled it out.
Pierre: There better not be any funny business going on.
Fish: Fuck no. I value my life.
Pierre: Good.
Felix: Bro, it wasn’t her idea, and she didn’t look like she was enjoying it anyway.
Fish: Please, her cheeks were pink, she enjoyed it.
Evan: Fish, what the fuck.
Pierre: Excuse me.
Fish: Um, yeah, ignore what I said, I was just teasing.
Pierre: Do we need to have a private chat?
Fish: Nope, we’re all good. Can we move on?
Sully: We absolutely cannot move on. I miss one practice and this happens.
Emmett: It was something. I’ll give him that. I’m sure you can get a replay on the socials somewhere.
Fish: It was a bet. I honored the bet. That’s called integrity. It’s not like I enjoyed it.
Nelly: Bullshit. You loved it.
Evan: Please, you played to the cameras as if you were part of Magic Mike.
Fish: I’m surprised you know what Magic Mike is.
Evan: Fuck you.
Sully: Well, I can’t wait to see it. Let me know when it’s up.
Nelly: It’s up. *Inserts link*
Bouch: Here we go.
Sully: Oh my god. Fish! You asked Pierre if you could take his sister to dinner on camera.
Fish: It was part of the bet. I was playing it up for the cameras.
Evan: Bullshit.
Felix: For the record, we said yes. I was looking forward to an all-expenses-paid dinner.
Bouch: It’s been up twenty minutes, and it’s already at fifty thousand views.
Nelly: The comments are insane.
Sully: Someone called Fish the hockey Magic Mike.
Fish: I saw that. I’m flattered. I’m never going to live this down, am I?
Emmett: Nope.
Fish: Shit.
Sully: Someone also said Collette should be on the team because her shooting is cleaner than yours.
Fish: Less flattered by that one.
Emmett: The engagement on this is going to be huge. Good for the team, honestly.
Sully: Cap finding the silver lining in Fish’s public humiliation. Leadership.
Emmett: It’s what I do.
Evan: Four hundred thousand.
Bouch: In an hour???
Nelly: Fish, you’re famous.
Fish: I was already famous.
Evan: Famous for stripping on ice. Very different.
Pierre: Collette just told me, Renee, her boss is thrilled. Apparently, media outlets are already picking it up.
Felix: Our sister is a content queen.
Pierre: She really is.
Fish: Can I just point out that I did the stripping. I am the content.
Sully: You are the content. The content of everyone’s jokes.
Fish: I hate all of you.
Emmett: No, you don’t.
Fish: I’m muting this chat now.
Nelly: Night night, Magic Mike.
The next morning, Evan is waiting outside my building. We walk to the rink together most days, he lives a couple of blocks over, and the facility is close enough on foot.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning, Magic Mike.”
“That’s not sticking,” I grumble.
“It’s already stuck. Nelly changed your name in the group chat.”
“Of course he did.”
He falls into step beside me, but doesn’t say anything for half a block. The city is loud around us with cabs, joggers, and someone yelling at a delivery guy.
“My sister sent me the video, she lives in London.”
“Fuck. This is embarrassing.”
“Are you embarrassed over the stripping or losing the shootout?” He smirks.
“Both,” I grumble.
“Look, it’s going to be a thing for maybe a week tops, and then something else will happen and people will move on,” he assures me.
That is true. We walk another block, and I can see the facility up ahead.
“You need to stop flirting with her,” Evan says out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” I turn to him.
“You heard me. You’re playing with fire.”
“I’m not flirting with her.”
The look he gives me could strip paint. “You asked her brothers if you could take her to dinner. What were you hoping to accomplish?”
“It was a bet.”
“You don’t bet things you don’t want,” he says, raising a brow at me.
“Funny. That’s not what I …”
“You like her.” Evan continues to interrogate me.
“As the sister of two of my teammates and one of the content girls,” I argue back.
“Bullshit.”
“Your English gets worse when you’re annoyed, you know that?” I tease him.
“My English is fine. Your judgment is bad.” He stops walking, then turns to look at me. “She is Pierre and Felix’s sister. She works for the team. You are playing with fire.”
“I’m not playing with anything, believe me,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.
“But you want to?” He glares at me.
“Collette is beautiful.”
“She is …” Why does that annoy me that my best friend thinks she’s hot? “But there are plenty of beautiful women in New York.”
“We’re friends.”
“You think her brothers are going to let you two become friends?” Evan asks.
“I like her …” Evan’s eyes widen as if surprised that I said that out loud. “Not like that …” I tell him. “Just like … she’s easy to talk to, I like that she pushes back, and doesn’t take any of my bullshit. She’s not interested in me.”
“I should hope not, but you also sound disappointed.”
“I’m not,” I tell him.
He doesn’t look convinced. “Stop flirting.”
It’s banter. It’s for content. The team benefits,” I explain.
“Keep telling yourself that.” He starts walking again. “Just remember I warned you when it blows up.”
“It’s not going to blow up because nothing is going to happen,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. Do I find Collette hot? Yes. But I also love my job and my limbs, and her brothers would tear them apart if I touched her. Which I would never do.
“Famous last words.” Evan chuckles.
Fuck his Russian ass.
After practice, I go in search of Collette. I find her in her office, focused on her screen. Alone.
I lean against the doorframe. “You’re welcome,” I tell her.
She doesn’t look up. “For what?”
That wasn’t the reception I thought I would get from her. “For the content of the year? One point two million views? The strip tease that’s going to get you a raise?”
She looks up. “I don’t need your abs to get me a raise.” She noticed my abs. Focus, that is not the point.
“They sure do help,” I say, cracking a joke, but she doesn’t laugh.
“The numbers are great.” She turns back to her screen. “Renee sent an email about engagement metrics, she’s happy. And impressing a heavily pregnant woman is hard right now.”
I frown. “That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say, Fish?”
“Something. Anything. Yesterday you made me strip on the ice, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the plague.”
Something crosses her face. “Is there something wrong with me?” Her question catches me off-guard. “Because I thought Griffin and I had a great night together.”
Oh. It’s guy trouble. No, this is good, I can do this. We’re friends, I can help with guy drama. “You two seemed to hit it off.”
“You think?”
I shrug. “I mean, you two were kissing all night, so …”
“If a girl says no to going home with you, does that mean you’re not interested?” she asks, and I hate that this guy is making her feel vulnerable, but also, thanks, man, because she is coming to me for advice.
“If a girl says no, that’s fine …”
“Because there are a million more bunnies waiting in the wings,” she snips before she covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m so sorry, that was mean.”
“You’d be right.” I can’t defend myself there. “But I’m not a normal guy either.”
“That is true.” She nods.
“Not sure if that is a compliment or not,” I say, which makes her grin.
“Both,” she says honestly, and for the first time since we started this conversation, I feel like we are back on track.
“Look, if that Griffin guy isn’t interested, it’s his loss because you’re kind of cool.”
“You think I’m cool?” She smirks at me.
“Yeah. Am I not allowed to say that?”
“No. Just wasn’t expecting that,” she replies.
“You would have to be pretty awesome to be able to beat me at hockey,” I remind her.
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling warmly now at me. “Honestly, I was shitting it.”
“Well, you were great under pressure. Not many professional players would have been able to make that shot.”
“Thanks,” she says, taking the compliment.
“So, back to the idiot who you met while out. What did he actually do?” I ask, wondering.
“He left me on read.”
My brows rise. What a dick. “Well, I’d never leave you on read.”
“Do you have a line for everything?” She chuckles.
“No, but it was pretty smooth, wasn’t it?”
“Okay, well, if you have come here to test out your one-liners, I’m busy, because the internet thinks you’re the hottest man alive.”
I know my DMs are on fire, but I don’t think she needs to know that. “I give the people what they want, and that is all this,” I tease, rubbing my hands over my body, when suddenly I am hit with a rolled-up piece of paper.
“You and your ego can leave.” She laughs.
“Fine, but hey, I’m not sure if you know, but I have this fashion thing in a couple of weeks. The guys are going, and that includes your brothers. You should come with them. There’s going to be a heap of male models there, which should make you forget finance bro.”
She stares at me for a moment. “Are you wing-manning me?”
“Sure.” I shrug.
“Fine, send me the details. It sounds like fun,” she tells me.
“I don’t have your number.”
“Fine,” she grumbles as she holds out her phone and places it against my own, exchanging numbers. “Now you do. Don’t make me regret giving it to you,” she warns.
“Promise,” I say, crossing my heart.
“Go. I have shit to do.”
And with that, I leave her office happier than when I came in.