Page 69 of Playoff

The excitement in the locker room is tangible, and I’m caught up in it along with the rest of the team and support staff. Bristol is running around like a lunatic trying to wrangle players to talk to the press, while Harper had champagne delivered. Normally, we probably wouldn’t celebrate a first-round win this exuberantly, but Harper has her own way of doing things.

A cloud of champagne washes over me, drenching my hair and face.

“Sorry about that!” Connor yells to me. “I can’t drink it, but I can spray it like a boss!”

I laugh, wiping my face with a towel.

There’s a lot of excitement as we toast the team, Harper, and everything we can think of. By the time we’re done, I’m admittedly tipsy and it’s killing me that I can’t run to Blake and hug him. Congratulate him.Kisshim.

Sneaking around already sucks, and we’ve barely started.

But I don’t want to think about that.

Not tonight.

We’re flying home, so our stuff is here at the arena ready to be transported to the airport. Of course, now I’m soaked in champagne and the showers are full of naked male hockey players.

I’m going to need to come up with a plan because I can’t sit on a plane for six hours reeking of champagne.

“Harper!” I catch her in the hallway, and she turns.

“Hey, Rowan. What’s up?”

“Do you have any ideas on where or how I can shower before our flight?” I motion to my soaking wet upper half. “We’re heading straight to the airport, and I don’t think showering with the guys would be appropriate.”

She’s thoughtful. “Let me make a call. Hold on.” She pulls out her phone and then a minute later I hear her say, “Hey, Gage…yes, thank you… no, everything is wonderful. I’m sorry your season ended the way it did, but it was a great series… yes, of course. No, actually, I need a favor. I have a female staff member who was just doused in champagne and we’re about to get on the flight home. Do you have anywhere she could shower really quick?”

“Three minutes,” I stage whisper.

“…oh, that’s amazing. Yes, thank you. I’ll see you in a minute.” She disconnects and turns to me. “Come on. You’re going to shower in the owner’s private office.”

Gage Caldwell owned the Blizzard.

Holy crap.

“Let me grab my bag,” I say, running toward the storage room where all our stuff is.

It pays to have friends—and an awesome boss—in positions of power.

No one restson the flight home. It was a day game, ending at three in the afternoon, so we’ll be home late but at least we’ll all sleep in our beds tonight. And we’ll probably be exhausted because everyone is still drinking champagne, playing poker, and someone has music blasting through their laptop. This isn’t the normal atmosphere on the flights, but the entire group is excited. A couple of guys even have cigars. They’re not lit, they’re just letting them dangle from their lips, and it’s kind of hilarious. I’m not sure what the point of that is, but I’m not going to question anything today.

“You fuckers better be ready to practice your asses off tomorrow!” Coach yells out when things have gotten particularly rowdy.

“Come on, Coach… give us one night!” Canyon yells back. “Just a few hours…”

“You’ll have the entire summer to party.”

“Boo!” Someone throws a sock at him—I have no idea where it came from and wouldn’t dare ask—and Coach catches it mid-air.

“You guys are gross,” is all he says.

I’m sitting with Bristol again, we seem to be designated seat partners lately, and she’s working. I work a lot of hours too, and I know it’s different because there’s very little I can do on a plane, while her laptop allows her to work on press releases and whatnot from anywhere.

“You could celebrate,” I say. “Just a little.”

She laughs but doesn’t even look up. “Haven’t we already had this conversation? I have shit to do, and I plan to sleep tonight. I’ve been burning the candle at both ends trying to manage all the interview requests, setting up promo for the next series.”

“It’ll be fun to play the Sidewinders,” I say. “I love Vegas.”

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