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My mind flashed back to the dark look Paxton gave me when he spotted me in the arena a few weeks ago.
“What about Paxton?” I ventured. “Does he hold it against me?”
My heart thudded hard and fast as I awaited Justin’s response. I knew I probably shouldn’t have asked the question—I didn’t want it to get back to Paxton that I was talking about him—but I was naturally curious about the things that had been said about me by the most dangerous man I’d ever known. If he’d ever said anything at all, that is.
Justin shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. He’s never said a single word to me about any of the stuff that happened back then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Can’t blame him, I guess. It was really rough for him. But if I had to hazard a guess, I doubt he holds what happened against you. He really cared about you, y’know? Talked about you all the time when you two started dating.” He paused and rubbed his scarred left eyebrow. “Pretty sure the dude was in love.”
I frowned. “Sorry?” I said, certain I’d misheard that last part.
Justin shook his head and smiled. “Never mind. It was a long time ago, and like I said, we were basically kids,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “We should get on with this interview stuff, right?”
“Yeah.” I gave him a polite smile and gestured to the desk on the other side of the office. “Should we sit?”
“Sure.” Justin strode over to the desk and sank into the black leather chair behind it. “By the way, how long have you been at the Observer?”
“Only two weeks,” I said, pulling my interview questions and phone out of my handbag. “This is my first semester at Worthington. Journalism major.”
“Nice.” Justin nodded slowly. “I remember you were always reading back in school. I guess writing is the natural progression.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.” I smiled and unlocked my phone. “Do you mind if I record the interview? It’ll make things a lot easier for me when I put it all together later.”
“Of course.” Justin laced his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat.
“By the way, just for the purposes of the interview, you should talk to me as if we don’t already know each other,” I added.
“Yup, that makes sense.”
“All right. Let’s jump in.” I pressed record on my phone and glanced down at my question list. “Let’s go back to the beginning. What are your earliest memories of playing hockey?”
“Well, believe it or not, I actually started out playing roller hockey at the local gym. I was an active kid. Hyperactive, actually. My parents had me in every single sport they could think of, just to get me under control. Hockey was the one that stuck.” Justin scratched his chin. “As for memories… well, my clearest childhood memory involving hockey is when I somehow managed to hit myself in the chin. Chipped four teeth.”
I winced. “Oof, that sounds painful.”
“Nah, it was actually good practice for the future,” he said. He paused, opened his mouth, and pointed to his bottom row of teeth. “These are all fake.”
“Oh, wow.”
“It’s a brutal sport, but it’s worth it. I love it.”
I glanced at my list again. “Even though the Blades are a fairly new team, you’ve already become one of the crowd favorites. Any idea why?”
Justin raked a hand through his unruly hair. “Well, I’d love to say it’s my rugged good looks and charisma. But I have a feeling it’s because of all the fighting.”
I cocked my head. “The fighting?”
“I have a hot temper when I’m playing,” he explained. “I managed to rack up the highest number of penalty minutes for fighting last year. I’m actually surprised I managed to make it through our first pre-season game without getting into a scuffle.”
“And the fans like seeing that?”
“Oh, yeah. They love the fights. It’s probably the best way to get them fired up.” Justin’s smile widened. “Maybe I’m not supposed to admit that in an interview.”
“No, this is good,” I replied. “Readers love candor.”
“Okay, cool.”
