“I’ll talk to him when I get done with this,” I tell White, and I head out of the locker room to meet up with the coach at the press conference.
He’s right. We got up to so much stupid shit in our rookie year. Not just our rookie year either. We’ve all missed shots, made stupid calls that didn’t pay off, and if I’m being totally honest, Lukawasright. He did play a really great game, other than those couple of things. Sure, not listening to my call and then later losing the puck because he wanted to stir up the crowd were pretty significant. We also missed countless shots on goal and lost the puck for all sorts of other reasons throughout the game. I shouldn’t have called him out like that in the locker room. I’m supposed to set the example and lift the guys up. I’m the one who dropped the puck today, not him.
I sit next to Coach Dennings at the table, lights flashing, cameras all directed our way. The coach takes the first few questions, maintaining his composure when they question his ability to lead the team to another cup win after tonight. Like, fuck you, this was game one, not the playoffs.
“The rookie, Luka Hart, was getting a lot of attention from the crowd tonight. Raines, what do you think of the rookie?” the reporter for Channel One Sports asks.
“The crowd tonight got to see in Hart what we’ve been seeing all camp. He’s a good kid, and he likes to have fun out there, so it’s not a surprise he’s getting their attention.”
“He was definitely trying some tricky plays out there tonight, some successful, others not so much. Were they something you talked about before the game, or was the rookie going off script out there?”
“There never really is a script to these things, we’re not the Globetrotters,” I reply, gaining a chuckle from the reporters. “Sure, Hart has a job to do, just like the rest of us, but if he sees an opening to pull off something special, who am I to stand in the way of that?”
“Here I was thinking you were the captain,” the reporter replies, and I fold my arms over my chest.
“I am, and as captain, it’s my job to foster the growth and development of our team. Hart pulled off some great moves tonight, and I for one can’t wait to see what else he brings to the ice this season. That’s all,” I say, standing and leaving the coach to answer the last of the questions. When I get back to the locker room, Luka is waiting for me at my locker.
“So was that all for show?” he asks, nodding to the television on the wall playing the live feed of the press conference. I hate when they change the channel in here. Just watch golf and relax, guys.
I shake my head.
“I meant what I said to the reporters,” I say, stripping off my jersey. The cool air hits with a calming wave against my skin. “But I still mean what I said to you too. I have to know I can trust you out there, and right now I’m not sure I can.”
His gaze sweeps down my chest just briefly before he turns on his heel, and it makes my stomach swirl in all the wrong ways.
“Trust goes both ways,” he replies, heading for the door.
“Okay, so what do you suggest we do about it?”
“Meet me at the rink at six.”
“Why?”
He pauses in the doorframe, one hand holding the jam as he glances back at me over his shoulder, those bright blue eyes locked on mine.
“Trust, remember?”
His lips pick up in a small smirk, the dimples just teasing his cheeks, and I sigh. What have I got to lose?
“Okay. I’ll be there.” This is bad.
Chapter seven
Luka
“Dude,youcan’tgooff on a cap like that,” White says as I strip out of my gear in the locker room.
“I know. I should have just sat there and nodded along. He was right, after all.”
“He was, but it’s more than that,” he says, and he sits beside me. “We’re a team, and the team dynamics shifted the second you stood up. Everyone was instantly on edge; no one knew where that was going.”
“What do you mean? It wasn’t like I was going to hit him or anything.”
“Yeah, well, the way you two faced off on each other, it didn’t look like that was something too far from reality.”
“It was that bad, hey?”
“Yeah, it was.”
