Chapter 16
Connor
Connor studied Daisy, unsure how to answer. If she were friends with Roxie, she probably knew a lot more about him than he could guess. But the real story happened before he met Roxie. It’s possible she knew, but maybe not. He went with the story he told everyone.
“It started as Greene Bean and evolved from there.”
She shook her head before he finished the sentence. “The real reason.”
He sighed. He must have told Roxie about it at some point. “Fine, I ate too much vegetarian chili at a tournament one time and vomited beans all over the bus on the ride home. Happy?”
Daisy smirked and nodded in confirmation, and then it was Connor’s turn again. His teammates were laughing their asses off, but he didn’t back down when he said, “Lover, truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
Thank fuck. She’d be more likely to give him answers without these two listening in. “Awesome. I dare you to go to bed.”
Lover sputtered in outrage but read the room. “Fine, but Hazy gets my turn.”
He stomped into the house, throwing a fit about being excluded. Hazy approached Daisy’s chair. Connor swore if the kid touched her, he might lose his shit. He was all jumbled up.
Hazy tapped Daisy’s toe with his shoe and reached across the table to grab the whiskey bottle, taking a drink before handing it to her. “Truth or dare, Daisy?”
She gulped her drink. “Dare.”
“I dare you to do something scary.”
Hazy didn’t stick around to see what that might be. These damn kids were too smart for their own good. Despite his own emotional turmoil, they were growing on him.
When the sliding glass door shut behind Hazy and they were alone, he said, “Tell me about the podcast, please.”
He didn’t know what she might have chosen if he’d allowed her to choose the scary thing herself, and Roxie had told him to ask, so he had to know.
He hadn’t given Roxie the third degree. He’d only asked if she knew a Daisy.
When Roxie had confirmed, he asked for a good truth or dare question, and she mentioned the podcast.
The curtains in the kitchen window rustled, drawing their attention, and they caught two sets of eyes spying on them. Daisy flipped them the bird, and they disappeared from the window.
“Nosy brats,” Daisy said, affection lining her tone.
“They really are, aren’t they?”
He tapped her leg with his toe, a little reminder to return to the conversation at hand.
She studied his face for a few long beats. “I’m bad at doing scary things, and there’s a lot about my relationship with you guys that’s terrifying for me.”
“All of us? Or me? You seem pretty comfortable with Lover and Hazy.”
“Both. In different ways. But for the podcast, it’s all of you. Any Freeze player, in fact.”
“What makes it scary?”
Daisy stared into the fire as she answered.
“Everything about it. The fact that it exists. I started watching hockey as a teen. I love it. And I’ve spent the last five years applying for every single job opening I qualify for with the Freeze.
Haven’t gotten so much as an interview. I’ve applied for jobs at the practice rink and in the minors trying to get my foot in the door.
I want to work in hockey, but it’s not happening.
So I figured if I wasn’t being invited in, I’d make my own way.
” Daisy drew a rainbow with her hands. “And thus the podcast was born. But it’s new. We’re working on becoming reputable.”
Connor studied her, watching the shadows dance over her features. He itched to be closer to her, but didn’t want her to stop talking. “Why a podcast? You could go back to school. There are a lot of specialized jobs within the NHL.”
“Those options are too risky. I could have gotten a sports journalism degree, or become a physical therapist, or sports psychologist, or dietician, or tried coaching and working my way up the ranks. There are a million paths to working within the NHL, but those options come with either instability or a mountain of student loan debt. The podcast is my attempt at building my dream without giving up my stability.”
“So the podcast is your dream? Your big, out-of-reach goal?”
Daisy shrugged. “I like doing the podcast. Roxie and I have a ton of fun watching the games and recording the episodes. But I’m also scared of the ridicule.
What if every other media outlet disagrees with my views?
What if an actual player listens to it and I hurt their feelings with an inaccurate assessment? ”
Connor listened to her talk about her podcast, enamored with her thought process. He wished he had the logical decision-making skills she had. He’d gone all in on hockey. Feet first, eyes closed, no backup plans. He couldn’t imagine any other job.
He wished he could tell her it would all work out, or that bad press didn’t hurt players’ feelings, but he’d be lying. Bad press had followed him all season, and it hurt like a bitch. Because they were right, he needed to pull his weight.
“Why wouldn’t you want to tell me about it?” he asked. While this was a lovely confession, it didn’t tell him why Roxie had been so adamant he ask about it.
Daisy scooted her chair closer to his, placing hers so she didn’t have to face him, but her arm touched his.
The physical contact reassured him. If he couldn’t touch someone while he poured his heart out, it didn’t feel right.
He brushed his knuckles over the back of her hand in a silent invitation.
She flipped her hand over and let him thread his fingers through hers.
“We’re on an uneven playing field. I know a lot more about you than you do about me. Roxie hasn’t asked, but she wants to have players on the podcast with us.”
“How does Roxie know you’re working with us? Aren’t you under an NDA?”
“Best friends don’t count.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “Best friends are the exact reason NDAs exist.”
“Yeah, but I’m also pretty sure you’re legally required to tell your bestie if you run into their ex.” She squeezed his hand and with the little inch she gave him, he wanted to take a mile and pull her into his lap.
“Why didn’t Roxie ask me to come on the podcast herself? She has my number. We’re still kind of friends. I wouldn’t have said no.”
“Ahh, good question. That’s part of the uneven playing field I told you about.”
“Are you ever going to be ready to tell me about it?” She was so beautiful. Connor ached to know everything about her. The firelight flickered across her skin, her hair was a messy nest on the top of her head, and she looked at him like he hung the moon.
“Getting closer every day.”
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and Connor appreciated the moment.
It was a clear, chilly night. Stars filled the sky, the fire kept them warm, and a gorgeous woman sat at his side, holding his hand.
He hadn’t been quite so content in a long time.
He never wanted it to end, so he asked another question.
“Do you like your job at all though?”
She propped her Birkenstock-clad feet on the frame of the fire pit to warm her toes.
“When it’s like this, I love it. Especially working with you guys, since it’s the closest I’ve come to working with the team.
Some of my other clients are similar, and those are the best. The ones I can bring out here to the cabin and really dig into the relationship building.
If it was always like this, I’d be happy doing it forever. ”
“It’s not always like this?”
“No. This is an exception. Most days it’s coaching a bunch of executives who earn ten times my salary through building a bridge out of popsicle sticks and tape in a cramped conference room.”
“Sounds bleak.”
She laughed, but he was being serious. Their conversation lulled again, and she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Do you miss Casey and Evan?”
“Yeah. Everything was so effortless with them. We skated together for almost a decade. I’m at the prime of my career, and I have to start over. It sounds petulant to say it, but it’s not fair.”
“Just because Hazy and Valentine aren’t them, it doesn’t mean they can’t be good too. They worship you.”
He laughed at her analysis. “You might be a little off there.”
“No, I’m serious. I watch you play, remember?
You play as if they can read your mind because that’s what you’re used to.
They can’t do that yet; you don’t have enough reps in, but they take direction from you.
You’re used to playing with your equals, teammates who have as much knowledge and skill as you, but these guys are still developing.
With Casey and Evan, there were no leaders and followers.
Your minds worked as one. With Hazy and Valentine, their attention is always on you, following your lead. You have to accept your new role.”
He replayed the last few games in his head.
How he’d pass expecting them to be a hair faster than they were.
How he’d get the puck to the slot and nobody would be there to take a shot, but they were both open on the sides.
How when they scored at practice, he’d gotten to where he needed to be and then given a vocal command.
“You might be on to something. That was some insightful commentary. “
She laughed and framed her face with her free hand. “Why, thank you. I’m not always that smart, though.”
“Hey Daisy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I listen to your podcast?”
She groaned. “I can’t stop you, but I would advise against it.”
“Oh no. It’s a Connor Greene hate account, isn’t it? I knew Roxie wasn’t over our breakup.”
“It wasn’t Roxie being a hater.”
Connor gasped in mock surprise. “Really? My good friend Roxie, the most glorious lesbian I know, isn’t still holding a grudge about her breaking up with me? Must be the other host.”
“In my defense, you did have two own goals and a bad penalty that day.”
He let out a loud, genuine laugh. “That is a pretty good defense. God, that game suuuucked.”
When the fire died, they went inside, ready for bed. Daisy stopped in the kitchen to drop off their dishes. As Connor picked his way through the dark living room, he found Hazy and Lover passed out on the couch. Hazy sitting up with a game controller in his hand, Lover with his head in Hazy’s lap.
It might have been the cutest thing Connor had ever seen. Daisy needed to see it. He tiptoed into the kitchen and grabbed Daisy’s phone off the counter. She looked up from rinsing the dishes, and he pressed one finger to his lips. He tugged her around the kitchen island and into the living room.
She bounced from foot to foot, unable to contain her giddiness at the sight of them. When he handed over her phone, she snapped fifteen pictures of the boys, all from different angles. Then she shook them by their shoulders, gently rousing them from slumber.
They opened sleepy eyes, and Daisy ushered them to the stairs, where they disappeared into their shared bedroom.