“And today I taught kids how to play defense. I’m full of contradictions.”
“Clearly.” He checks his clipboard. “You have two more of these scheduled. Next Saturday and the Saturday after that. Different rinks, different age groups.”
“Same cheerful PR babysitter overseeing everything?”
“Same cheerful PR babysitter.” He tucks the clipboard under his arm. “Media training Tuesday. Nine AM. Don’t forget.”
“How could I forget? You’ve mentioned it four times.”
“Because you strike me as someone who needs reminders.”
“I strike you as a lot of things, apparently. Most of them not great.”
He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “You were good today. With the kids. Honest. Real. That’s what they needed to hear.”
It’s the first genuine compliment he’s given me, and I hate how much it lights me up that the stick-up -his-ass PR guy actually thinks I did a good job.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Too late.”
He almost smiles. Doesn’t quite get there, but it’s close.
“See you Tuesday, Masterson.”
“See you Tuesday, Noah.”
I watch him walk away, trying not to notice how his jeans hug that tight ass of his.
It takes a minute before I finally tear my eyes away. This is a problem.
Noah Enver is uptight, controlling, and way too invested in protecting the team’s image. He’s also Coach’s son, which makes any interest I might have completely off-limits.
Except I keep thinking about the way he looked at me when I was honest with those kids. Like maybe he was seeing something different than the reckless player who makes terrible decisions.
Like maybe he was seeing someone worth paying attention to.
I head to the locker room, change out of my gear, and try not to think about the fact that I’m looking forward to Tuesday.
Not because of the media training.
Because of him.
CHAPTER 6
NOAH
Spendingtwo hours alone in a room with Masterson is either going to fix his media problem or create a new one entirely.
I arrive at 8:50 on Tuesday morning to set things up. The camera is on the tripod and my list of questions is printed out. This is standard crisis media training where I teach the player how to handle hostile questions without saying something that makes everything worse.
With Masterson, I’m not optimistic.
He shows up at 8:55. Again with the early thing. Color me shocked.
“You’re making a habit of this,” I say.
