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“For somebody who’s never had sex before, you certainly know what you’re doing,” he says.
I smile. “I’m a girl who knows a few things.”
“Yes, you are, baby girl. And I’m looking forward to finding out what other things you might know.”
I laugh softly. “Let’s go take a shower and maybe I can show you.”
“I love the way you think.”
Hand in hand, we walk to the master suite and head for the bathroom. My body is tingling with the aftereffects of what we just did. This is crazy. It’s all insane. I wasn’t looking for love, but I feel like I somehow stumbled into a fairy tale and accidentally found my Prince Charming.
10
DAWSON
“Your play lately has been inspired, Dawson. And it doesn’t seem to be a coincidence that the team is playing just as well,” Wendy, a reporter with the local station says. “It certainly seems like you’ve discovered a fountain of youth. What do you attribute your hot streak to?”
I lean against the half-wall that runs in front of the bench and clear my throat. I look out at the ice where the rest of the team is practicing then down at my skates. I hate doing interviews. Having a microphone stuck in my face and having to answer a litany of stupid questions is my least favorite part of the game. But Randy, the team’s GM, had all but ordered me to do it. Randy told me that the organization and I deserve some credit and attention for our recent play.
“Dawson?”
“Yeah, we’re just playing solid, fundamental hockey. Everybody is out there grinding every shift, making sure to get the details right,” I say. “We’re just clicking on all cylinders right now because we’re playing together as a team.”
Wendy gives me a look. I’ve dealt with her many times before and know she’s not one of those reporters who’s satisfied with cliches and platitudes. She’s a reporter who wants substance from the people she interviews. I’m just not really in the mood to be interviewed right now. My mind is consumed with thoughts of Devon. I’m counting down the minutes until practice is over and I can get back to her.
“Come on now, Dawson,” Wendy pushes. “This is your eighteenth year in the league, but you’ve got some real spring in your step. You’re looking the way you did when you were a rookie.”
I laugh. “Are you even old enough to remember the way I looked when I was a rookie?”
Wendy smiles and shakes her head. “Stop dodging the question, Davis. Seriously, what’s with the resurgence here? You’re playing like somebody ten years younger.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say here, Wendy. There’s no magic or anything going on here. The team is playing well. I’m playing well. That’s really all there is to it.”
“But I think the team is playing well because you’re playing well,” she presses. “And I'm curious about what has you playing so well lately, Dawson. What's the magic elixir?”
Anders skates to a stop beside me with a wide, mischievous grin on his face. “It’s not a what,” he says. “It’s a who. Ask him about his new squeeze.”
Wendy raises an eyebrow. “Is there a new woman in your life, Dawson?”
I elbow him in the ribs and shoot him a withering look then turn back to Wendy. “He’s Swedish and doesn’t understand English very well. You’ll have to forgive him.”
She laughs. “He’s been here fifteen years and has always seemed to speak and understand English perfectly in my experience. So, tell me about this new woman in your life, Dawson. Is she the reason you’re playing like a kid again?”
Anders grins. “You could say she’s infused him with a youthful energy.”
I turn and give him a two-handed push in the chest. Still grinning, Anders glides backward then turns and skates off to join the shooting line, leaving me there to deal with the fallout of the grenade he just threw into my interview.
“Youthful energy, huh?” Wendy asks. “So, is your new woman younger than you, Dawson?”
“Listen, there’s nothing there for you to report on. Anders is just being a dick,” I tell her. “You know how he is.”
“I do know how he is. And I’ve never known him to tell a lie.”
“Then you don’t know him all that well.”
“So, are you telling me there’s no new woman in your life?”
“I’m telling you that my personal business isn’t your business. You’re a beat reporter who covers this team. My personal life is out of bounds. You're a sports reporter, not a gossip columnist for fuck’s sake. Try to act like one.”
