Page 7 of These Pucking Boys

My accentdoesbecome more noticeable when I’m annoyed.

I stand up and get into Ryan’s space. “Shut yer puss.”

Our other teammates are used to our antics, and not one bats an eyelid; they just carry on with their conversations. The head coach is distracted by the assistant coaches, not that they’d give me a hard time. No puck got through me tonight.

Jake pulls Ryan back. “Stop goading him. We don’t need Lachy biting Tammy’s head off during the interview.”

“Let’s get this over with. She’d better not do my nut in with stupid questions.” I’m talking out of my arse. As if Tammy Reynolds would do such a thing. Even though she’s only in her twenties, she’s already made a name for herself in the pro-sports world. Her exclusive sixty-minute interviews are coveted by rookies and veterans alike.Thank fuck this is a quick one—she can ask four questions max.

I head to the locker room exit, Ryan and Jake following me. I look over my shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I want to be there for moral support,” Jake replies. “I don’t know why Ryan is coming.”

“Moral support too.” He tries to keep a straight face, but the corners of his lips twitch upward.

Moral support, my arse. He’s coming to watch me crash and burn. Bawbag.

The best course of action is to ignore them both.

Tammy’s informal interview will take place in the wide corridor connecting the rink to the locker room. I see her and her cameraman waiting for me in front of the Titans logo. She notices my approach and smiles. I wish I could reciprocate, but I’m sure my grimace is obvious. I hate giving interviews. I always get flustered, even after almost ten years of playing in the NHL and going through countless media workshops organized by the team.

Across from her, there’s a huge TV screen mounted on the wall. She switches her attention to it and waits for her cue to start the interview.

Jake, Ryan, and I stop in front of the screen as well and watch an attractive strawberry-blonde lass pull a small box from her purse and offer it to her boyfriend. It seems she’s proposing to him. We can’t hear what she’s saying, but the fella’s expression isn’t what one would expect. He looks horrified.

“Oh shit. I don’t think she’s getting the answer she’s hoping for,” Ryan pipes up.

A second later, the boyfriend shakes his head. The pretty blonde’s face falls, and even though she’s a stranger, my throat closes. I know firsthand what it’s like to give your heart to someone only to have it returned mangled beyond repair.

Before the camera cuts to someone else in the crowd, we see the lass get to her feet and exit her row. The camera zooms in on her face, allowing everyone to see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Was that necessary?” I grumble.

“No,” Jake replies in a cold and tight tone. That’s when he’s most dangerous. Like myself, he’s pissed.

Even I agree that the whole thing was in poor taste. And her boyfriend… what a jackass.

I arch an eyebrow. “Would you have said yes?”

He looks me dead in the eye. “I’d never humiliate someone like that in public. I’d say yes, then break things off later in private.”

I shake my head. A typical Ryan answer.

Tammy Reynolds walks over and asks, “Are you ready, Lachlan?”

I’m still upset about what I just saw, but Tammy doesn’t need to know that. I force a neutral expression and reply, “Yeah.”

I follow her to the spot where the bright lights from the camera are shining against the Titans logo. She stops next to me with a mic in her hand and a kind smile on her face. But my pulse is thundering in my ears, and my face feels hot. Bloody hell. I must be as red as a tomato.

She starts the interview, and I answer her questions to the best of my ability while trying not to sound like an eejit. It goes fast, and then she’s thanking me and wishing me luck. I walk away from the spotlight, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the lack of brightness.

Jake and Ryan are still around, and so is Melissa. I join them and catch the end of their conversation.

“All right. I’ll try to get that woman’s information. But I can’t make any promises.”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“We want to invite the chick who got rejected to the Titans’ party tonight,” Ryan replies, smiling like a fiend.

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