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Despite the helmet, I sensed the concern on his face as he spoke to Enzo. The man took a solid hit, I and was sure he’d been knocked out. But then, he recovered so quickly, I couldn’t believe it. My respect for what the players put themselves through just increased a hundred times. And as much as I hate to admit it, Rick was right. Watching them in action has given me ideas for the kinds of content I need for my calendar for the social media and PR to amplify the team’s reputation. I head toward the exit of the rink when Rick falls in beside me. He’s taken off his helmet and his dark hair is plastered to his forehead.
"What do you think?"
"Of what?"
"Of having dinner tonight with me?"
12
Rick
"She turned you down?" Finn slaps me on the back so hard my arm shakes. Beer splashes over the side of my mug. Finn decided we needed to get the team together for a piss-up to celebrate our first practice as a team, and thanks to JJ’s standing invitation, we ended up at the 7A Club.
The sessions today were brutal. My shoulder hurts from the abuse it took, essentially opening up an old war wound—one I’ll never allow to slow me down. Not if I find a way to overcome it first. My calves burn, and every part of me feels the workout I put my body through today. It’s clear I need to work much harder at getting in shape. It’s also clear age is not on my side.
When Finn suggested heading out, I groaned. But the younger members—which means, the rest of the team—cheered. As the captain, I need to pick my battles, and this—the entire team coming together for the first time to practice and wanting to head out to blow off some steam—is not one of those times. So, after getting my shoulder wrapped up by the team doctor, I took a long hot shower, making sure to keep the dressing dry. Then, I pulled on the extra pair of street-clothes I kept in my locker in the locker room.
No, I wasn't too cowardly to go up to my room. Cowardice had nothing to do with the fact I didn’t want to see her before I headed out. Not after she’d turned me down.Why did I ask her in the first place?A question that still confuses me. It’s not like I want to date her. It’s not like I want anything to do with her. Although, she is my roomie, so running into her is unavoidable. It’s another reason I agreed to head out. Best to stay out of her way until she’s asleep.
Not even the fact that we have to report for training at five a.m. tomorrow had me turning down Finn’s suggestion. So here we are. Me and my best friend, who’s grinning at me like the joke’s on me. Which it is, of course.
"No need to sound so happy." I heft the mug of draft, the only one I’m allowing myself this evening, considering someone has to be sober to ensure none of us got into trouble. Also, I don’t mind being that person, since I’m not going to test my body’s recuperative powers to that extent… Yet.
"Never seen you look this crushed man," Finn drawls.
"This"—I stab a finger in the direction of my features—"is not the face of a man who’s crushed in any way. This is a man who’s questioning why the hell he did it in the first place. And then, why he told you about it."
"From the looks of it, I think you owe me." Another voice sounds from my other side. Manning 'Odds' LeBlanc, extends his arm, and Finn groans before slapping a note in his palm.
I sit back on my stool. "You guys had a bet." I glance between them.
"My nickname’s Odds, remember?" He smirks.
"What are the bets I’m gonna make you run five extra miles tomorrow?"
"Aww, Stone—"
"Ten then.”
He hangs his head. "You’re no fun, mate. I call this an abuse of power."
"I call this the best way to train a team." I allow my lips to twitch. "Better make the most of tonight. After this, we’re not gonna see the inside of a bar for a long time."
"Jesus, you’re killing me here, man." He reaches for my mug of beer and drains it. Before I can protest, he touches his forefinger to his forehead, then spins around and heads over to join two of our teammates who’re talking to some women.
"Jeez, don’t you think that was unnecessarily harsh? This isnotthe military, man."
"The basics are the same." I raise a shoulder. "Time for the kids to man up. Playing a game on ice is no less lethal than facing down your opponent on the war-front. You need to focus, you need to be present and grounded. You need to be there completely—"
"And they will be."
"Not if they’re running around getting pissed and—"
"—flirting with your girl."
"What?"
Finn nods in the direction that Manning headed off in. I follow his gaze to find him and his buddies—I recognize Caspian, Jax and Jagger crowded around the luscious figure of a woman with waves of blonde hair tumbling down her back. She’s wearing a dress that ends mid-thigh, in a red that stands out amongst their jeans and dark jackets. She’s teamed it with over-the-knees boots with six-inch heels that add height to her figure. But in comparison to the men hulking over her, she seems delicate and vibrant and a flame that I can’t help but be drawn to. I raise my mug of beer, realize it’s empty and slam it back on the counter. Then I slide off the barstool.
