Page 8 of Rookie Move

“We ignore him. Pretend he’s talking to whatever creature is living in that beard,” Harty said.

“That hurts, man. And my beard is lovingly maintained with only the best beard balm. I’m actually a sponsor for them, so they must think it’s glorious,” Baz fired back.

The guys replied with a few jokes that Baz took in stride before they started talking about some of the prospects trying to make the final roster. Desmond was grateful they’d welcomed him into the group so seamlessly, but that was the nature of the sport. Between constant trades and international competition, you were bound to know almost everyone in the league—at least it felt that way.

“Hey, aside from all the jokes, I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re here, and I’m sorry about everything with Melanie. I had an epic wedding toast ready. I can read it to you sometime,” Baz said.

Desmond froze for a minute, not wanting to think about his ex, and then he groaned. “You weren’t even in the wedding party, Baz.”

“I will not be held to societal rules,” he said. “Anyway, I’m glad to be playing with you again. This season is going to be epic,” he finished, raising his voice for the last part and getting the guys’ attention.

“You say that every season, but here’s hoping,” Finn said.

“Here we are,” Mrs. Lanzi said as plates piled high with every Italian staple he could think of were placed on the large table. “Enjoy.”

After they all exclaimed their thanks, they dug in. Desmond appreciated Baz’s words—not the toast part—but he was happy that it was said and over with so he could focus on stuffing his face and not thinking about being single for the first time in seven years.

Fuck. That was a long time.

Hell, he’d expected it to last forever. He’d started dating Melanie when they were eighteen. She’d followed him with every trade, spending the last three years in Minnesota. Yeah, trades sucked when you established your lives in one place, but it was the nature of the job and they both knew that.

When he’d proposed at Christmas, he’d thought she was on board. But as soon as he’d been traded, she handed the ring back to him and said it was over. Not open for discussion. Done. She said she was tired of moving. Tired of not seeing him. Not being his number one priority.

She’d made him feel guilty as hell even though they’d both gone into it knowing the lifestyle, the sacrifices.

It’d been a few weeks before he’d found out that she’d been sleeping with a coworker for months. He’d always wondered about the guy Melanie had called her work husband, always following that statement with a laugh like there was nothing fishy going on.

Fuck. It still stung. He’d gotten wasted that night. And had amazing sex with Rylie.

“We need a new theme song for Finn and Nessie,” Baz’s voice cut through Desmond’s spiraling thoughts, and he turned to his teammate, needing to focus on something other than his ex and Rylie.

“What?” he asked.

“Well, ‘Under the Sea’ doesn’t work with Fishy gone. Are there any songs about Nessie? I bet I could find one,” Baz said, and the guys laughed, with a few headshakes.

This is what Desmond needed. To get out of his head and focus on getting to know these guys.

Chapter 3

Rylie popped abourbon-glazed meatball in her mouth and tried to act like a cool and collected host. The Strikers’ team party was in full swing and Desmond was probably somewhere in the house. She wasn’t sure where because she had other things to focus on. Like making sure all the food was out. Not that the caterers hadn’t done that already. Yes, she had much more important things to focus on. She hadn’t focused on Desmond at all today.

That was a lie. He was out by the pool with some of the other guys. She’d scolded herself repeatedly to not track his movements, but for some reason, she always knew exactly where he was.

It was freaking creepy.

She skewered another meatball.

“Whatcha doing?”

She jumped, dropping the meatball on her sundress. “Shit,” she said, grabbing a napkin as she turned to her father. “You startled me.”

“Sorry about that. You were looking right at me. I even said your name. What were you thinking about?” he asked, handing her another napkin and a bottle of water.

“Nothing, just enjoying the food. I should probably go change and try to get the stain out,” she said.

Her father waved her off and she weaved through the clusters of people, smiling as she headed to the guesthouse.

She would not look at the far corner of the pool where Desmond sat on one of the loungers she loved. They were so damn comfy. And he looked so comfortable on it.

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