Page 16 of Not A Chance

I’d spent too many years while playing in Vancouver so deep in the mindset that I needed to give every ounce of myself to hockey so that I could prove I deserved to be there. That reaching the NHL and my career as a professional hockey player was somehow the mark that I had “made it” in a way.

Looking down the line a year, however, with knee surgery on the horizon, suddenly seemed a lot more daunting with my brothers and sister angry with me. There would be no blaming my schedule for the distance in our relationship anymore.

My mind quickly pushed that thought aside. Coming back to my immediate issue of the mystery of Indie as my new neighbor.

Being on the receiving end of the brush-off was new to me. I was used to people wanting my attention, whether it was the media, fans, fans who were looking to hook up, or other industry professionals.

I couldn’t imagine Indie still feeling awkward because of our last encounter on that Christmas morning.

A strange sensation ran through me as my mind merged the nineteen-year-old Indie hesitantly pressing her soft lips to mine with the distant woman in the hallway just now.

Before I realized who she was, the visceral attraction I’d felt approaching her still churned in my gut. I could never consider acting on it because of Emery, but that didn’t change the fact that I was drawn to Indie in a way I couldn’t remember feeling before.

She had always been stunning. Back then, I hadn’t even considered her in that light because I’d automatically connected her to Emery. They were so much younger; my protective big brother instincts had always extended to both of them.

At twenty-five, I’d had my head so far up my own ass it wasn’t funny. I’d been working hard and playing harder. I was out every night with the other guys on the Frost. I hadn’t gone at it as hard as some of the others, but I had still had enough nights that I was lucky social media wasn’t the way it was now.

I scrubbed my hands over my face with the frustrated realization of how much of a wall I’d put up around myself.

I was a guy who didn’t like things up in the air. I needed to think of a way to prove to my siblings that I wanted to reconnect after allowing my career to come between us.

I rolled my neck and shoulder muscles like I was shaking off a bad hit on the ice, way back in my minor hockey days before I found my niche as a goalie. But this time, I was shaking off an emotional hit rather than a physical one.

It was time to make amends. And I’d start with the woman across the hall.

I hadn’t been the new kid in class in a very long time. Despite being a long way from my childhood, the feeling of walking into an established group dynamic was still daunting.

The captain and alternate captain on this team were a well-known dynamic duo in the league. Every team had a rhythm. I had a feeling that Reese Michaels and Ryan Campbell set the tone for the Tempests.

I’d had a brief welcome-to-the-team call with Toronto’s head coach, Jacob Reyes, before I left Vancouver. Everything else I had learned from the team services manager, Christine. She’d helped me arrange everything from a place to stay while I settled into the city to moving my belongings across the country to getting an assistant to stock my fridge so I wouldn’t have to worry about starving when I arrived in my temporary condo.

I walked into the arena for my first practice, wondering what the vibe was going to be like. Already off-kilter from my run-in with Indie the day before, I needed this first introduction to the team to go well.

Christine, the angel, had also prearranged all of my security clearance,so I breezed through the check-in area with several minutes to spare before I needed to find Coach Reyes.

My phone ringing was the last thing I expected.

Worry spiked in my gut as I saw Emery’s name on my phone. Was it Dad? My brothers? Was she in trouble? Ever since my mom passed away, I couldn’t shake the sliver of fear that chilled my blood every time my phone rang.

“Em, you okay?” I picked up, apprehension making my voice a little hoarse.

She must have heard the concern in my tone since she was quick to reassure me rather than remind me that she was still mad at me for the trade lack of communication debacle.

“Whoa, Theo. Everything’s fine. Why would you think something’s wrong?”

Since I couldn’t tell her the truth, I opted for teasing. Emery didn’t need to carry my issues too. I’d left my siblings behind to flee from my own problems.

“Well, considering you’re allergic to phone calls, you can imagine why I’m surprised.” I forced as much humor into my tone as I could. If my joke landed a little flat, Emery was kind enough not to push me for what was really going on.

That was Emery in a nutshell. The sweetest, kindest person I knew. A literal ray of sunshine.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll have you know, I make phone calls on a regular basis. Some of these tenured professors have a moral imperative to keep us frozen in the 1900s.”

Her graduate studies in fine arts came with teaching assignments for a variety of academic personalities. I’d been so wrapped up in my own worries about my knee injuries and what it meant for my NHL career that I didn’t even know what she was teaching this term.

Emery was on her way to becoming a professor, just like our mom had been. Though I’d had my doubts about her choice—she’d been so passionately dedicated tocreatingart throughout her childhood and teenage years—she’d insisted on pursuing her master’s and PhD. She had been 100 percent adamant at eighteen that this was what she wanted to do.

“I’m going to be Professor Yao one day, T. That way, I can honor Mom’s memory the way you have.”

---