Page 6 of Holiday Power Play

“You know what,” I say, making a decision. I jump off the car and land right between the two of them. “You want my car so bad, John. Just take it.”

I push past the defenseman and strut over to the front door of my house. I don’t need to turn around to know that Trevor’s looking at me, watching my every move.

And I hope he gets a good look, because he has no idea what’s coming for him.

Chapter 2

Trevor

“There he is! The man of the hour,” my team captain, Keelan Landry, sets down his mat and stretches it out. “Glad you could join us.”

“Yeah, well. I ran into a little… inconvenience,” I say, taking an empty spot on the gym floor.

“Uh oh. Sounds like The Rookie may have met someone,” Michael Ferguson, one of our forwards comments from the other side of the gym.

The whole team is here tonight. We’ve been getting a lot of injuries lately and coach has arranged for a mandatory stretch session three times a week to keep us agile. With our crazy schedule this week and Christmas just two days away, he called this last minute session.

“Oh, he met someone alright,” Vance MacDonald sets his mat next to me. “And she told me all about it.”

“To be fair, I didn’t know she was your sister,” I tell him. “At first.”

“A sister? Oh shit… here we go again,” Zane O’Connor, fellow defenseman says.

Our starting goalie walks behind me, slapping my back with a heavy hand. “Haven’t you learned your lesson with sisters, Rookie?” Ryker says, voice low.

“Yes, I absolutely have. Which is why I have no interest in her in that way.” I turn to MacDonald, or Mick, as we like to call him. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about that.”

Mick laughs. “Dude, you don’t know my sister. She’s not the kind of girl you want to mess with. And if you ask me, calling a tow truck on her–automatically puts you on her naughty list. She hates you.”

“Well, I’m not a fan either,” I mutter.

Mick shakes his head. “That’s too bad.”

“Because she’s my neighbor?”

His eyes twinkle. “Amongst other things.”

“Other things? What other things?” I say, watching him.

Coach Murray bursts through the doors. “Alright boys, let’s get this done so we can get on with our Christmas plans.”

“What other things?” I whisper to Mick whose suddenly decided to drop the conversation.

He presses a finger to his lips and points to Coach Murray up front.

An hour of stretches later, we’re splayed out on our mats, dripping in sweat when Mick rolls over to look at me.

“So about the trip tomorrow…”

Oh yes. The trip. The one he invited me to join him on since last week’s calendar debacle in NYC.

We had these calendars we were trying to sell at a bookstore event when Mick had the genius idea for us to take our shirts off. We all agreed it would make sense–it was a hockey romance event after all.

But I was the one who took it a step too far. One of our patrons and loyal fans asked me to take a picture with her in only my underwear.

Who am I to turn down a fan? I was already a half-dressed Christmas elf, what was one more article of clothing?

I’ll tell you what… it was what got us kicked out of the event, plastered all over social media and now I can’t go anywhere without someone mentioning the Heatwave rookie with Santa’s package delivery living in his underwear.

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