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I haven’t kept up on Slade’s career since he left for Canada, but in college, he was known for spending more time in the penalty box for getting into fights than any other player on the team and I overheard my father tell Phil that Coach Bex is worried about Slade not being a team player which explains the puck hogging. That’s an old habit that must have resurfaced after he left WU because he didn’t pull that kind of thing while playing for my father.
“Briggs says he’s heard that Slade can be a loose cannon against the opposition, but he’s hoping that with the championship on the line, he’ll watch his temper and share the puck,” Autumn says.
I’m tempted to tell them that Slade has a temper on and off the ice. Especially when it comes to jocks who ask me out on dates, but then Tessa turns to me. “Your dad coached him in college, right? And didn’t you two go to the same college for a while?”
The barista brings us our food, giving me a little time to think about how to explain Slade and my past.
I’ve mentioned before that I had someone in college that I didn’t like, but I’ve never gone into the details of what happened. I can’t avoid the conversation now, and if he weren’t a player on the Hawkeyes team, I wouldn’t care about airing out all the dirty laundry. I just don’t want the gossip mill churning over this one. It’s bad enough what Slade did in college. I don’t need everyone at work watching our interaction under a microscope.
“Yeah, my dad coached for Washington University until Slade’s last year. Then Phil Carlton offered him the GM position here,” I say, pulling the plate with the turkey club sandwich, with no tomatoes, closer to me.
The smell of fresh-baked bread and bacon has my mouth watering already. On top of putting my blouse on inside out this morning, I also forgot to eat breakfast before flying out the door. My father and Phil had an early morning meeting with legal today, and since I take notes for all meetings, I decided to opt out of my morning skate to attend the prep session with my father and Phil at six a.m.
I was absolutely not, in any way, avoiding the locker room to ensure I didn’t have a run-in with Slade this morning. That would be silly, and I won’t let Slade ruin the Hawkeyes’ stadium for me. This became my home first, and I won’t be chased out of it by Slade like I was in college.
Now I’m starving, and the only thing I had was the dirty chai that Tessa bought me from Serendipity’s on her way to work this morning.
“So, you know Slade well, then. Did you have classes together?” Autumn asks, spooning saltine crackers into her tomato bisque soup.
“Well enough that he felt compelled to scare away anyone who wanted to take me on a date and ruin my chances at competing for the Olympics pair figure skating qualifier,” I say in one long, frustrated breath.
“Damn, that sounds like a long history if you ask me,” Tessa says, pulling her own turkey sandwich up to her mouth and then abruptly sets it back down on the plate when something comes to mind. “Wait! Is this the guy that you wanted to be killed in our ‘kill-pact’?”
“Tessa!” Autumn says, dipping her head low and looking around to see if anyone heard Tessa discussing our hit list that none of us were ever serious about. “Not so loud. People don’t know you’re kidding. And besides, you’re marrying the man you wanted off’d… remember?”
Tessa waves her off. “I’m still taking it day by day. That man drank the last of my coffee creamer yesterday and didn’t tell me so that I could stop by the store and get more. Lucky for him, Penelope needed an emergency drink order. Otherwise, he’d already be sleeping with the fishes.”
An emergency drink order accurately depicts the dire straits I was in yesterday after seeing Slade. I’ll need another one before I leave here.
“Speaking of, don’t let me forget. I want to order another chai before we head back to the stadium. I can’t seem to keep anything straight for the last twenty-four hours,” I tell Tessa.
“Is there any chance that being flustered enough to wear your blouse inside out this morning has anything to do with the hot tatted hockey player that you want dead?” Autumn asks, smiling slyly at Tessa.
Ever since Autumn immediately pegged Ryker and Juliet’s relationship as a ploy to keep Ryker in the States, she thinks she’s some kind of relationship whisperer.
“Oh my God! Do you have a crush on him? I thought you hated him?” Tessa asks, her eyes wide as saucers.
“No… I—”
“Isn’t that always how it starts?” Autumn sends Tessa a wink.
Tessa flashes her eyes back at me. “Yep, you’re totally going fuck him.”
I hate how she relaxes back in her chair and finally takes a bite of her sandwich as if sleeping with Slade is inevitable.
“There’s no damn way I’m going to touch that man,” I say, taking a bite of my own sandwich to show I’m not bothered with their nonsense, though I would have thought that of anyone, Tessa would be on my side.
My preference would be not to live in the same country as the man, let alone have sex with him.
“You t all of our romance story tropes pretty spot on. What story is this one going to end up like?” Autumn asks.
“The Titanic,” I say simply.
“Wait, is that movie considered a romance or a tragedy? The hero dies in the end. Don’t romances technically have to supply a happily ever after?” Tessa asks.
“Sure, but a happily ever after for whom? Because I’ll get my HEA the minute that Slade goes down with the ship.”
There’s a short silence for a second as they both look at me wide-eyed. I’m usually the optimist in this group, and I would be if we were discussing any other subject. But what Slade did to me is unforgivable.
