Prologue
Jordan stood off to the side watching one of the local sportscasters do his on-camera introduction for the guys back in his studio.
"Yeah, we're here at the arena where earlier today, the Detroit Pirates announced that offensive lineman Jordan King will be the new captain for this storied hockey franchise."
Jordan could see on a small monitor set up nearby that the producer had cut to highlights from the press conference several hours earlier. There he was, front and center, with his new jersey as team owner Jack Foster held the other shoulder up.
"Make sure everyone can see the C, Jordan," he had instructed.
There were times when Jordan didn't like watching himself at press conferences or doing interviews. It just made him uncomfortable. But seeing himself on that screen, holding up his jersey... Well, he couldn't explain the emotion he felt building in his throat. There was just something amazing about seeing this dream of his come true. Not only did he play on a professional hockey team, but he was its captain now.
Jordan had been with the team for eight years and had gained a reputation of being not only one of the best athletes in the city but also one the most eligible bachelors in Detroit. Even some of the sportscasters had been quite kind in the early years to introduce him to the latest newsroom interns, which had varying success. He had to finally cut off that source of attractive women when he realized they were only doing it to get dirt on him.
To be fair, Jordan had kind of walked himself into that situation. Frankly, he had walked himself into quite a few different situations before quickly walking out again. Frankly, he couldn't remember the last relationship he had with a woman that survived more than a month. There were plenty of friendships that lasted longer than that, if you could label a booty call a friendship, but those weren't the least bit satisfying if he was being honest.
He was determined to change things now. He wasn't just a player on the team anymore. He was their leader now, and he would only have one focus this season: win the Cup.
He walked past the sports guys and team personnel, shaking hands and smiling before making an excuse about needing to grab something from the locker room. Really, there was nothing in there that he needed, just something he wanted.
He walked down the long hallway to the empty room. With the season not starting for another month, none of the players' equipment had even been unpacked yet. The only things in the room were empty lockers and his jersey hanging alone in his stall. On the shoulder, a white letter "C" stood out against the black background. Jordan smiled and grabbed his new jersey off the hanger, holding it in his hands as he ran his thumb over the stitches keeping the new letter in place.
A knock on the wood of a nearby locker made him look up quickly at a man intruding on his moment.
"Hey, brother."
Jordan smiled at Ethan, who stared at him with blue eyes that matched his own. "Did you see my new jersey?"
"I saw," his brother replied. "I don't often say it, but I'm really proud of you."
He turned back to the smooth fabric in his hands, his eyes going a bit unfocused as he thought about what this meant not only for him but for them. "Thank you, Ethan."
"For what?"
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."
His brother's hand came down on his shoulder with a firm grasp. "You deserve this," he said quietly. "Now let's go eat. I'm starving and you're paying!"
"As always," he said with a knowing smile. "Meet you out there?"
Ethan nodded before walking away, leaving a quiet locker room behind. Jordan stared down at the fabric in his hands again. He thought about hanging the jersey back on the hanger, but decided to bring it with him instead. Taking the jersey home would be a good reminder that things were different now. No more late parties, no more girls. There was only one goal now: winning the championship this season with him as the captain.
Chapter 1
Six months later
Jordan had finally figured out his game-day routine after years of testing what worked and what didn't.
He got to the arena around three o'clock, hung up his worn sheepskin coat and turned off his phone — if there was an emergency, his brother knew how to reach him. He would change into a track suit with the Detroit Pirates' logo, make a protein shake, and take it to the bench out by the ice. For a half hour or so, he would drink and imagine how the game would go — which plays would work and which wouldn't, who he had to avoid and who he had to help. After that was catching up with his teammates, which was something he added this year now that he was the captain. He needed to always make sure things were working out with the players if they wanted to win it all this season.
And then of course, there was the soccer game. It was a staple for most hockey teams: a soccer ball and a circle of players kicking it around or bouncing it off their knees, anything to keep it in motion. But something was off today. Jordan felt like the world was trying to give him a sign that soccer was just not his thing. After bobbling it a few times, he missed a totally easy shot and had to go chasing it down the hall.
That's when he saw her. Blonde hair hiding her face as she looked down at her phone, long legs accentuated by her black leggings and a pair of black boots to match her jersey. Well, it was really his jersey considering she was wearing his number. Jordan stood there dumbfounded. It had been months since he had been with a woman, months since any woman really had a pull on him. He had been so focused on the team and getting away from who he used to be that he had pushed all of that aside. But it was no wonder that he would suddenly feel this way again with a woman so beautiful in front of him.
"Hey, jackass! Stop hogging the ball!"
Jordan turned to see his teammate Alex Orlov sneering at him.
"Screw you," he casually retorted as he tossed the ball to them.
