I grit my teeth, bracing myself.
“So the PR guy seemed real interested in you during the game. You guys spending a lot of time together?” he asks. Quiet. Just for me.
Thank fuck.
I avoid his eyes. “Community service. Media training. All mandatory shit.”
“Right. Mandatory.” He unlaces his skates. “Just saying, people notice things.”
“What things?”
“The way you looked at him. The way he showed up to watch you play when he should be doing whatever PR guys do in their ivory towers.” Keating shrugs. “Not judging. Just saying you might wanna be careful. He’s the coach’s kid. That’s complicated.”
He grabs his stuff and heads for the showers before I can figure out how to respond.
I sit there for a minute, toying with my skate laces. Keating’s not wrong. I have been looking at Noah differently. And apparently it’s obvious enough that at least one of my teammates picked up on it.
This is a problem.
I finish changing fast, grab my bag, and head out. Usually I’d hang around and go grab food with the guys, but right now I need space to think.
The parking garage is mostly empty. Late game means most people cleared out already. I head toward the spot where I parked my truck, stopping short when I see Noah leaning against the driver’s side door.
“Congratulating all the players tonight or just me?”
“Just you. Good game. Good restraint.”
He’s still in his suit, perfectly fitted to his frame, looking like he just stepped out of the pages ofGQ.Meanwhile I’m in sweats and a hoodie, my hair still damp from the shower, looking like I just rolled out of bed. As usual.
Jesus, we’re really like night and day in every way.
“You were watching,” I say.
“Always.” He shifts his weight, and I notice he’s got his tablet tucked under one arm. “The real reason I wanted to findyou was to talk about the clinic on Saturday. We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The rink is double-booked, so it’s being moved to the Raptors practice facility.”
“So?”
“So your teammates will be there for morning skate.”
I open the back door and toss my bag inside. “Let them watch me do community service. Might shut people up.”
A shadow crosses his face. “People are talking?”
“People always talk.”
“About what?” He pauses. “Us?”
The way he says “us” makes my chest tight.
“About me spending time with Coach’s son,” I say. “A couple of the guys said something today. Probably just busting my chops.”
“Keating should focus on his playing.” Noah clears his throat and straightens his jacket, back to business. “Saturday. Ten AM. I’ll send the access code.”
He walks away and fuck, I don’t want him to. I don’t want this conversation to end with him walking away and me standing here trying to figure out what just happened.
