Page 21 of Not A Chance

I offered him a dismissive nod before turning back to the reason I was standing here.

“You are dangerous. Save those pretty eyes for someone they’ll work on.”

Oops. So much for not flirting.

“Well, I think they might be working on you just a little.” Connorwinked. I heard Theo choke in the background.

God, Theo. Just keep moving. This is none of your business.

“That’s neither here nor there.” The truth was it would take a lot more than a pretty face to get me interested in someone, though I appreciated Connor’s commitment to his game, both on and off the ice.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Theo moved far enough down the hallway to be out of earshot.

“Okay. Enough fun and games. We’re going to be serious. I’ve got a date—” Connor’s face fell comically as I slipped my phone from my back pocket to check the time. “—with the CN Tower in about three hours. And I’m not going to miss it.” It was on my “list.”

I barreled on, keen to get us back on track. “So here’s what’s happening. Jermaine has made me the messenger of all things media today. You, Mr. Andrews, are going to have your first major feature in a magazine since joining the Tempests. We need to spend the next hour going over some pre-interview prep.”

“Wow. Okay. I’m not going to pretend that isn’t pretty fucking cool. My mom will love it. She’s made a hobby of collecting my hockey stuff since my first ‘rookie’ card when I played Timbits hockey at the age of four.” His eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Aw. That’s sweet. Well, we can make sure to showcase how important your family’s support has been during your career. Give her a shoutout for being such an amazing mom. That would be a nice surprise, right?” I threw out the suggestion.

Truth be told, I didn’t know what the hell a person could do to make their mom happy. I hadn’t been able to make my mother happy or proud a single moment in my life. But it seemed like the sort of thing that would’ve been really meaningful to Theo’s mom, Alice.

His eyes softened. “Yeah. She would love that.”

I had to swallow against the very real pain in my chest. Moments like these always brought up how much of a relationship I didn’t have with my parents. The gaping void of that parental bond was a never-healing wound. I could ignore the pain for a while until life ripped the scab off again and left me bleeding inside.

Connor narrowed his eyes briefly, his gaze scanning my face. I wonder what he saw there. Was my mask of forced confidence slipping?

“You know what would make my afternoon?” He smiled.

“I can imagine.”

“If a certain someone would let me join her at the CN Tower after she wraps up at work. Just think of all that extra media prep time we could get in. Besides, no one has eyes for the second-line center rookie anyway. I want to do as much stuff as possible before I have to think about privacy and all that.” He didn’t bat his eyelashes, but it was close.

Now I was desperate for a distraction. So, even knowing I probably shouldn’t agree without thinking it through first, I found myself not wanting to go see one of the landmarks I’d missed out on as a kid alone.

And I could understand wanting to seize a moment of calm while we both could. I was working on anonymity while he was a rising star.

“Sure, Connor. That sounds good. We can meet there. You can climb the stairs. I’ll take the elevator,” I agreed.

“Deal. How many stairs does it have? I never got to go as a kid living way up north. Being from Northern Ontario, I just haven’t made the time to play tourist since hockey always had to come first,” he explained.

“Not too many for a fit NHL athlete such as yourself. Piece of cake.” I snickered, all of a sudden even more excited to see his face when he realized the actual number.

I should have been concentrating on the earnest questions flying at me from defensemen Young and Lavoie, both sitting across the table from me. Riding high on Saturday night’s win, they were both keen to pick my brain.

I sipped my beer distractedly. They were trying to build a rapport. If I had been able to pay them proper attention, it would have probably been endearing. They’d taken the philosophy that defense/goalie relationships were essential to the team’s success to heart.

I appreciated a good hustle. They wanted to grind their way off the fourth line. I respected that. It paid to figure out that there was no way around putting in the hard work for the thing you wanted most.

Tonight was not the night for me to play mentor, though. I’d agreed to come out to an informal gathering at the team’s favorite post-game bar at our captain’s request. They’d been so welcoming to me, and I was trying to make the effort to get to know my teammates.

The problem was one of my teammates had chosen this bar for his hangout spot as well. So instead of listening to the two keendefensemen trying to hold my attention, my eyes were glued to the high-top table across the bar on Andrews and Indie.

I was sitting at the far end of the team’s table. On either side of me were Michaels and Campbell, team captain and alternate captain, respectively. It was a bit like being under the welcome wagon microscope or being held captive. I wasn’t sure which yet.

They were doing what good leaders should, trying to help me integrate into my new team, especially after a surprise trade like mine was.

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