Page 8 of The Game Changer

Jill

“So, I have a question for you,” I ask once our plates have been cleared from the table.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve got an event to go to next weekend. Would you be interested in being my date for it?” I watch his face for any adverse feelings to my proposition.

“What kind of event are we talking about? Family wedding? A work event? Charity event?”

“Sorry,” I giggle at his questioning. “I wouldn’t spring a family wedding on you like that. It’s a fundraiser for a community youth activity center,” I tell him.

“I’m sure I can clear my schedule and accompany you.” He grins at me. “How formal is this event?”

“Nothing black tie like. Just summer business casual,” I tell him. “I just planned on wearing a summer dress, if that helps at all.” I don’t miss the flash in his eyes as they quickly drop down my body and come back up to meet my eyes. Most of my body is hidden by the table, so it was swift and almost something I could have missed if I wasn’t watching his eyes so closely. I can feel something developing between the two of us, even in this short dinner. What that is, I have no idea, no clue if it is something that will go anywhere past a mutual attraction, but it’s something I’m definitely willing to explore.

“Sounds good. I’m sure I can pull together a polo and some slacks by then.” He winks just as the server drops the bill off at the table. He drops his credit card in the tray before she can even leave the table’s edge.

“I’ll be right back with this,” the server states before scurrying off to run his card.

“Thank you for dinner. I had a great time tonight,” I tell him while we wait for his card back.

“I’m the one that should be thanking you. I needed to get out of the house tonight, or else I’d have gone stir crazy.”

“I’m sure you could have gone out with one or more of the guys,” I remind him.

“Most of them aren’t here since it’s summertime. Only a handful hang around here during the off-season, and those that do still leave for longer chunks of time during the summer.”

“I can see how they’d want to do that. Go back home or on vacation.”

“Yep, with Julia and Beckett gone in Sweden, and Austin busy with the baby and Reese, my options are slim.”

“Didn’t you play your early years with some of the guys that have retired and then stuck around with the team? Like, isn’t one of your coaches a former player?”

“Yep, Scott played and is now one of the assistant coaches. I also played with Brian and Murph, who is now one of our commentators. They were some of my original teammates and some of the guys that are closest to my own age. I’m the old guy on the team…or I was,” he says, tripping up on his words.

“And do they stick around here in the summer?”

“Scott and his wife Becca usually head home to Alaska for a portion of the summer. I know he has to be back earlier than players do since he’s a coach. They also have school-aged kids, so they have to come back for them to start school. Brian and his wife Kinley, I think, split their summers between his family in Minnesota and hers in Alaska. Richard and his wife visit his family in Canada, but also spend a lot of time here since she’s a local.”

“Sounds busy, and I can see how it would be hard to find someone to get together with.”

“I guess you’re stuck with me,” he states and flashes me a panty-melting smirk. I kinda like this flirty easy-going side he’s showing me tonight. Especially with the heaviness of everything he’s got going on, I’m glad that he’s able to make light of the situation.

“I don’t want to be the party pooper of the night, but I need to get home so I can get off to bed. I have another full day tomorrow, and my alarm goes off way too early.”

“Of course. Sorry, I lost track of time,” he apologizes as he slides out of the booth.

“Not your fault at all. I was just as engrossed in our conversation as you were.”

He escorts me out to his truck, his hand resting on the curve of my lower back as we walk next to one another. I don’t know if he even realizes that he’s doing it, but I’m not going to stop him. When we reach his truck, he hits the unlock button on the key fob then opens my door for me—that chivalry shining through once again. “Thank you,” I tell him as he offers a hand to me while I step up and get settled into my seat. Once I’m in, he closes my door, rounding the front and practically jumping into his seat after opening the driver’s door.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” I ask once he pulls out on the street.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure. I need to start having some tough conversations with my agent and then the team management. Because I was injured during a game and have been on the long-term injured reserve list, it isn’t necessarily a straightforward retirement process. My contract still has a season left on it. The organization is still liable for that contract, and it still counts towards a portion of the salary cap. It’s mostly a bunch of legal crap, but I think what it will come down to is I won’t officially submit retirement paperwork until the end of next season when my contract runs out. When it ends, I become an unrestricted free agent, which means I can talk to any team and sign anywhere I want to, but obviously, I’d just retire at that point.”

“It all sounds complicated,” I tell him.

“It is. I’ve been in the league a long-ass time, and I still don’t know everything there is to know with the inner workings when it comes to contracts and such. I trust my agent to get me the best deal he can, and he’s yet to fail me . They pay me to play, I pay him to make sure I’ve got the best contract he can get me.”

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