Chapter 6 Practice Makes Tension Beau
Practice Makes Tension
Beau
Dev slides over to me at the end of practice with a clap on the back.
He’s been easing his way back into my life.
And after what he pulled last semester, he has good reason to be cautious.
Dating my sister behind my back. I’m not quite over it.
Not the dating thing. The secrecy. The two people closest to me didn’t feel comfortable telling me the truth.
What does that say about what they think of me?
“Good practice. Looks like we had an audience.” He nods to the stands behind our bench where Wilder is sitting.
“Think she was impressed?” I ask. Judging by the laptop sitting on her knees, I’d have to say no.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Need company for your meeting?”
“Nah, I’m good. You’ve got plans with Cece tonight, right?” I drop that in with purpose, trying to let him see that I’m okay with it. I’m happy for them, even if there’s a hollow space in my chest. Even though I’ve still got them both in my life, now that they’re together, I’m a little more alone.
He nods.
“Okay, I’m going to clean up and meet up with her. Have fun. Say hi to Sissy for me.”
He ducks his head and keeps walking down the hall to our dressing room. He’s still a man of few words. That’s one thing my sister hasn’t changed about him.
I’m showered and dressed in a fresh outfit when I wave to the guys and head for the meeting room where we had our last session. Only this time, it’s just the two of us.
The tightness in my chest intensifies as I’m heading down the hall.
There’s even more pressure to make this work.
After the way I lost it last time. She might not have seen me fall apart, but she definitely caught the edge of it.
I regret snapping at her like that, but I’m not sure how to apologize or if it would even make a difference.
I have not made a good first impression, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned from my father, it’s that you can’t come back from that.
It’s going to take a lot more than an apology to make things even remotely friendly with her.
When I get to the conference room door, I shut my eyes and drag in a few deep breaths to compose myself, counting to five with each inhale and exhale.
I focus on individual parts of my body in turn, making sure I’m good.
I’m not going to lose it again or say something I shouldn’t.
It happens when I get stressed. I say things I don’t mean.
I know it’s not an excuse, but at least I’m aware of it.
Learning to control it is a completely different matter.
When I feel ready enough, I push the door open.
Wilder is already sitting at the table, the room silent except for the incessant clicking of keys as her fingers fly over her laptop.
The back is covered in stickers. She must be working on something for school.
I can’t blame her for taking the time during our practice to work on school stuff.
Time is always in short supply when you’re an elite athlete and you still have to keep up with your academic work.
I’m still standing in the doorway when she looks up from her screen, and my stomach twists with an unexpected pang as her eyes connect with mine.
She’s gorgeous. Long, thick lashes outline green eyes, and there’s a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose.
It’s small and turned up at the tip, but there’s a familiar bump in the middle.
My hand strays up to run down the matching one on my nose.
It has the look of a healed-over broken nose. Pretty common for us hockey players.
Her eyebrows are the pale color you see on some redheads.
Interesting. It doesn’t match the artful dye job she’s got.
Blonde roots that transition seamlessly into a caramel brown color.
It’s a look I’ve seen on many of the women who hang out in my social sphere at home.
One of those brows is raised almost to her hairline, and I have to shake myself free of the trance I slipped into when she looked up at me.
Amazing. Now I’m lusting after her, and she’s looking at me like I’ve lost it. She’s an influencer. It’s all for show. Just because you’re attracted to someone doesn’t mean you have to follow through on those feelings. She’d probably laugh in my face if I suggested it anyway.
“Can I help you with something? Have I got something on my face?” She reaches up to drag her fingers through her waves, but I catch her eyes running down my body.
“No.” My tone is brusquer than I intended. I’m trying to mend fences here, not cause more problems between the two of us.
She purses her mouth, and a couple of lines form between her eyes. “Let’s get going then.”
“Yeah.” Apparently, my verbal skills are subpar today. Dev must have rubbed off on me. I shift on my feet and then walk toward her.
Her eyes drop back to her keyboard, and she resumes typing as I roll back the chair across from her, dropping into it. My irritation rises again, replacing that brief lapse where I thought I might be into her.
“Sorry for interrupting you.” The sarcasm creeps in, but it doesn’t seem to faze her.
“Need to finish this one thing. Assignment due tomorrow.”
I lean back in my chair, tilting my head up to stare at the beige panels of the ceiling. I start counting the panels.
The snap of her laptop shutting doesn’t pull me out of my task. I need to finish it now that I’ve started.
“I guess I’m the one inconveniencing you now.” She says after a long pause, irritation clear in her tone.
Twenty-eight, twenty-nine. I shouldn’t have let myself start that. The need to complete the thing is stronger than all the training I’ve had to be polite and pay attention to people. Make them feel like they’re important.
When I’m finished, I snap back to see her sitting across from me with her arms crossed over her chest.
“I’m sorry. I got a little lost there.”
Her annoyance vanishes into a curious look as she tilts her head to the side. “He apologizes. That was unexpected. I’m not sure what to make of you.”
“You don’t want to know what’s going on in my head.” That was way more honest than anything I’m usually willing to share with a stranger. The surprise on her face probably matches my own.
“I guess I don’t need to delve into the dark recesses of your brain. We only need to pretend to like each other, so let’s get on with that.”
“Right.” It’s like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. The chances of salvaging this into something even mildly friendly seem pretty slim at the moment, and the hollow feeling intensifies. “What did you have in mind?”
“I’ve got a few things on my social media planner that I could pull your guys in on, and a few ideas for what we can do together. What about you? Is there anything you’d like to do? Or you won’t do?”
I shake my head. “I’m not really into social media.
” Most of the photos on my phone are of objects, not people.
A random sign I happen across. Interesting items I see discarded on the side of the road.
Flowers and trees. Hardly the stuff of Internet virality.
But the peace of nature and the randomness of seeing a tree with a fairy door at the base are calming in all the chaos of the world.
I post on my handful of accounts sporadically.
“Yeah, I checked out your gram, and it is seriously lacking in photos of people, or hockey. I can’t imagine that’s going to be helpful.
Maybe you should start some new accounts.
If we get going on these collaborations, you should be able to grow your account disgustingly fast. With a face like that, you’ve already got a serious advantage. ”
I’d be impressed that she thinks I’m attractive if she hadn’t said it in such an appraising way, like she’s evaluating my worth as a commodity. “Glad you’ve noticed me.” I lean forward. “Look, I’m not really into splashing my face all over social media. I can’t stand all that fake bullshit.”
She looks up at me from under those lashes again.
“Are you kidding me? Yeah, I’ve noticed you.
I’ve noticed you’re an arrogant, entitled ass.
You’ve never had to work for anything in your life, and you think the sun revolves around you because of your family privilege.
Some of us don’t have a trust fund to fall back on, so we do what we can to get by. ”
My eyes narrow, nails digging into my palms I’m clenching my fists so hard.
How fucking rude. She has no idea how hard I have to work to keep up with school, my dad’s bullshit, and the sport I love.
All with a clock ticking away the minutes until I have to give it up.
The one thing I’ve ever cared about besides my sister. “You have no idea how hard I work.”
She tilts her head back, looking down at me through half-shuttered lids. But the smile that slowly creeps up her face is more alarming than anything else. “I think I’ve got an angle.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
Her smile has the insane level of glee you only see in comic book villains. I feel like I should be terrified. “You mentioned hard work. Have you ever had a part-time job? Volunteer work?”
“I’ve been learning and working for my father since I was old enough to type. And you know community service is part of the deal as a college player.”
“Yes, but have you ever done anything with your hands?” The way she’s looking at my hands folded on the table makes me think of all the things I’ve done with them, and all the things I could do to her.
I place them on the polished wood table, leaning toward her. “Oh, trust me, I’m good with my hands.”
She scoffs. “Not what I meant.”
“Wait, you didn’t mean manual labor? What did you think I was talking about?” I give her my best wide-eyed, innocent look.
“I wasn’t… You’re impossible. Are you sure I can’t trade you for JJ? He seems pretty harmless, if a little obtrusive.”
“JJ? You want to work with him? I’d say go for it, but I’ve been told they want us to set the example as team captains.” What does she know about JJ? Is she into him?
“Yeah. He is a bit annoying. I think I’d rather you. At least we know our feelings are mutual. He seems like a wild card.”
“Aww, I’m touched. You’d rather spend time with me. Thanks.” This conversation is frustrating and does not appear to be going anywhere. I can’t help glancing at my watch.
“Got someplace better to be?”
“There are a hundred places I’d rather be, so let’s get on with this and make a plan. Then we can both get back to our own shit.”
“Fine. I’m thinking we can do some volunteer work together.”
“Sure. We work with a local hockey league and the school lunch program. The food bank that we raise money for. Jacks was doing something with Habitat for Humanity last year. I’m game for anything.”
“Oh, I have something specific in mind. It will really showcase your softer side. And the eyes we could get on the team and on the charity. Infinite possibilities.”
Don’t love the sound of that. “My softer side?”
She leans in closer. “There’s a local cat shelter the women’s team has been working with for a few years now. Paws For Thought. We help out there regularly. Wherever they need us.”
My shoulders tense up, back going rigid.
“I’m not much of an animal person.” We didn’t have any pets growing up, and animals are a little too unpredictable.
Not to mention the mess. My sister acquired a ferret and a couple of guinea pigs recently, but I’ve mostly managed to avoid the furry little creatures.
She ignores me, clapping her hands together.
“This is it. This is the thing that’s going to win everyone over.
Oh. I wonder if they’d be interested in a calendar.
Hockey players and kitties? Can you imagine the money we’ll raise?
We could help rescue so many fur babies.
Throw in some pictures and videos on social.
Done. I’ll get you signed on immediately. ”
She’s fucking with me, but also serious. And she already has a low opinion of me. Dissing this idea would sink me faster than concrete blocks. But I can’t help one last protest. “A calendar?”
“Yes, think of it. Hot hockey players, cute animals, and, of course, the great Beau Whitaker. Star power all around.”
She makes no effort to hide her sarcasm when she says my name.
My dad does condone volunteer work. Giving back to the community for the optics alone.
But I don’t think he’d approve of his son starring in a charity calendar for some Podunk animal shelter.
A light flicks on. He’ll hate this. Her smile falters as mine grows.
“Sounds fantastic. I’ll do it. We done here? ”
She’s back to studying me through the suspicious slits of her eyes. “Really? This is a commitment, you know. No backing out or showing up late. They’ll be counting on us.”
“I’m never late. Can you say the same?” I push up from the table, tilting my wrist to check my watch. “I’ve got to get back to the house. Send me the details, and I’ll see how many of the other guys I can get signed up.”
I turn to leave, but a soft mutter catches my attention.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” She snaps.
Rustling sounds and some bangs follow me out the door as she gathers up her things. My step is a little lighter knowing I won this scrimmage.