Page 20 of Pucking Amazing

I wave and then peel off to get a cab home.

Sydney has this way of making me so at ease, like she really gets me. It’s refreshing. When I stop and think about it, I can’t remember the last time I felt that way—like a woman saw me as me and not as NHL Player Tyler Simmonds.

And if I’m being totally honest, focusing on her helps keep my mind off a certain brown-eyed enforcer who shall remain nameless.

So tonight, it’s all about forgetting that drama and enjoying the company of a gorgeous, intelligent woman who sees me for me.

The cozy booth is warm and intimate as I slide in across from Sydney. She gives me a small smile, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear. There’s an awkward beat of silence. We’ve only ever talked in her office before, with the barrier of counselor and client between us.

Now, in the low light of the bar, it’s just the two of us.

I clear my throat. “So, uh, thanks for coming out with me tonight.”

“Of course.” Sydney leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I’m glad we could do this. Get to know each other in a more...casual setting.”

Her voice is playful, flirtatious even. A flicker of interest crackles through me as we lock eyes. She really is gorgeous. And kind, and smart. Exactly the type of woman I would want to be with.

The type of woman who could help me forget about my inconvenient?—

I clear my throat, pushing thoughts of DJ out of my mind.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” I say. “To hang out. Outside of your office.”

Jesus, I sound like a moron. I take a big gulp of my beer, hoping the alcohol will loosen my tongue. Sydney just smiles at me, patient and understanding, and my chest relaxes.

“So tell me about yourself, Tyler,” she prompts gently. “I know the surface level stuff from our sessions. But I’d like to know more about what makes you tick.”

I hesitate, not used to talking about myself. But something about Sydney’s warm look compels me to let my guard down.

“Well, a lot of it is hockey,” I admit. “Trying to live up to expectations. Especially my brother’s.”

“Your brother Steven, right? The one who used to play in the NHL?”

I nod. “Yeah. He was—is—amazing. Growing up, all I wanted was to be like him. To make him proud.”

“That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

“I guess.” I shrug. “But Steven...he demands a lot. He always has.”

“In what way?” Sydney asks.

“Oh, you know...pushing me to train harder, skate faster. Yelling at me when I let in a goal.” I try to keep my tone light, but some bitterness creeps in. “He didn’t like it when I made mistakes. Still doesn’t.”

Sydney’s brow furrows in concern. “That doesn’t sound like he was a very supportive brother.”

“Naw, it’s fine,” I say quickly, not wanting her to get the wrong impression. “Steven’s great. He just wants me to be the best. And I want that too. It’s just...a lot sometimes. Trying to fill his skates.”

“I can understand that,” Sydney says quietly. “Feeling like you’re not enough. Like you’ll never measure up, no matter how hard you try.”

There’s a knowing look in her eyes, and somehow I get the impression that she has her own demons. Her own past hurts and insecurities.

“Yeah. Exactly.” I take another sip of beer, emboldened by her understanding. “And with playoffs less than a sure thing this season...I don’t know, Syd. I’m worried I’m going to choke. Let the team down. I’m the goalie—everything rests on me. If I don’t play a fucking perfect game, it’s over.”

“That’s an awful lot to carry on your shoulders alone,” she murmurs. Her hand slides across the table, coming to rest lightly on my forearm. “I know we just met, Tyler...but I can already see how much heart you have. How much you care. The Blizzards are lucky to have you.”

Her touch sends a tingle up my arm. I stare at her slender fingers against my skin, swallowing hard.

“I don’t always feel so lucky,” I mutter. “Especially lately, with everything that’s been going on...”

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