Worried, I call her back immediately, figuring that dawn here means it's mid-morning in Orlando, where she lives. But it goes to voicemail.
I check my other messages quickly. My agent has a new potential sponsorship he wants to talk to me about. Juliet texted that she got my request for tickets for a family in need and will take care of it. Finding nothing else to worry about, I start to relax until I see the last name on the list.
Naomi. A blast from the past, and not in a good way. We dated for two years after college, but I endedthings when I realized that she and I didn't feel the same way about each other. She was way more into our relationship and being a WAG than I was. At 23, I still had a whole world to explore.
Our relationship fell prey to the wandering eye that I got from my father. Thanks, Dad.
Naomi's text is very confusing.
Naomi
Hey, Thorne! Long time no see. I want to catch up with you, if you have a minute. There are some things you're going to see in the news that involve me, that I'd love to explain. Text me anytime!
Yeah, not happening. My breakup with Naomi was dramatic and overwrought. A lot of angry, sobbing voicemails when I was trying to make a clean break. I would rather step on a rake a dozen times than go back to that part of my life.
Instead of trying my mom again or texting Naomi to see what she wants, I pull on my workout shorts and go for a nice long run.
By the time I wander into the main house, freshly showered and hungry enough to eat my own arm, I've all but forgotten about them.
"Thorne!" Jett and Silas are in the kitchen, making a late breakfast of eggs, bacon, and whole wheat toast. "Happy Fourth of July. You want some eggs?"
"Hell yeah." I ease into my golden boy persona, and spread my hands wide. "Can I help?"
"You can start making toast." Jett nods to the loaf of bread.
"Happy to."
Silas is transferring the bacon onto paper towels. "I was just telling Jett about the trade rumors. There's a whisper campaign going on about Konstantin Kuznetsov, the power forward. I'm hearing that he's extremely unhappy in LA and is campaigning to play either here or in Vancouver. Apparently, he doesn't like the sunny weather."
"Lots of sun in LA,” I muse, feeling slightly ill. I need a power center added to our team like I need an extra hole in the head.
Silas pours a batch of scrambled eggs in the same pan he used for the bacon.
"I heard that he's being compared to a young Alexander Thorne," Jett says.
I screw up my face. "Isn't he 30? That’s only 2 years younger than me."
"I think the consensus is that he's got the same energy as you had the first year you were in the NHL."
"The Havoc already has one of me. They don't need another, unless there’s something Coach Cross isn't telling me."
The two brothers share a glance.
"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Silas says, which is the kind of thing people say when they absolutely think you have something to worry about.
The name sits in my chest like a swallowed puck. Konstantin Kuznetsov. I know exactly who he is.Every captain in the league knows him. It’s the same way you’d know the names of natural disasters or of men who've done prison time. He’s high scoring, aggressive as hell, and the kind of utility forward that makes coaches salivate because he can play any position and make it look easy. The Los Angeles Sharks loved him, right up until the moment they didn't.
The moment being the game where he put his own teammate in the hospital.
So now he wants to come here?Fuck.
"Right," I say to Silas. "Probably nothing."
The gossip makes my food taste like sawdust even though I just went on a six-mile run.
When I make it out to the dock, it's packed with people celebrating, laying out, taking turns riding the Jet Skis, and drinking a mysterious red punch that comes out of a cooler. My eyes rove the dock, looking for a flash of red hair and the mouthy young woman it belongs to.
There she is. Mollie is in a baby-pink string-bikini with her gorgeous legs, toned stomach, and barely-there-but-enticing-anyway tits on full display. She's standing next to Brad again, laughing and putting her hand on his unclothed chest. I steel my expression and try not to glare at her.
