Page 85 of Conrad

He showered, checked his phone—no answer—then returned to the bullpen for more conversation and the after-game press conference. Felicity met him outside the room, wearing her Blue Ox gear. “Good game, Con.”

“Thanks.” He glanced inside the press room. Spotted Ava shooting questions at Justin, grinning, so maybe that was still on.

“You’re up next,” she said. “And great job with the jumbotron shot with Penelope. I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it, but I’m glad you said yes—never hurts to get some positive PR from the ladies. You’re trending.”

He frowned at her. “What?”

“Did you like the jersey? I left it at will call for her, along with the ticket. I wasn’t sure she’d wear it, but clearly she’s all in too, just like her manager said. So good job, Con. Nice to see you on board for once.”

He just blinked at her. “I don’t?—”

“Okay, Justin is done. You’re up. Remember—play nice.” She all but pushed him into the room.

But all he could hear wasShe’s all in too . . .

All in for what?

He sat at the desk, the Blue Ox logo behind him, and fielded questions.

“Can you walk us through the moment you scored the game-winning goal during the power play? What was going through your mind as you saw the opening?”

“As we set up for the power play, I knew we had a great opportunity to take the lead. My teammates did an excellent job of moving the puck around and drawing their players out of position. It’s all about precision in those few seconds. But scoring goals like that, especially in a tight game, is what you play for. You have to trust your instincts and your teammates. We’ve been building up to these moments all season, and to see it pay off feels incredible. It reaffirms that the hard work and the focus on our power-play strategy are making the difference.”

He glanced at Felicity, and she gave him a thumbs-up.

Ava stepped up, identified herself. “You seemed to really step up as a leader tonight, especially after the incident with the rookie earlier. How do you balance your roles as a mentor and a key player on the ice?”

He wondered what Justin might have told her. “As a veteran, I aim to lead by example—staying calm under pressure and making smart plays. I support the rookies by sharing insights and encouraging them, but I also focus on my game to ensure I contribute effectively. Balancing these roles comes down to communication and experience.”

He didn’t let her respond, just called on another reporter. “There was a noticeable increase in physical play tonight. How did this affect your game plan, and how do you adjust to a more physical game without crossing the line?”

Maybe he’d crossed a line with Penny. It didn’t feel like it, but . . .

He found an answer. “The physicality definitely ramped up, which required us to be more focused and resilient. We adjusted by emphasizing solid positioning and smart puck play to avoid penalties while still responding strongly. It’s about maintaining our intensity without compromising our discipline. One more.”

Ian Fletcher had bounced up, and Felicity pointed to him.

Great.

Ian grinned at him. “During the game, we noticed Penelope Pepper in the stands wearing your jersey and really getting into the spirit of the game. How does having her support in the crowd impact your performance on the ice?”

He looked at Ian, words leaving him. Swallowed. Glanced at Felicity, who grinned at him, nodding.

What?

“Um. It’s always great to have support from the stands. It definitely adds to the motivation to perform well. I appreciate everyone who comes out to cheer us on.”

Ian gave him a look. “C’mon, Conrad. You can do better—your social media has been flooded with pictures of you and Penelope. Are you two dating? What’s going on?”

He stood up, his heart banging.What—what?His social media? He braced his hand on the table. “Thanks, everyone. That’s all for today.” He headed toward the door, the world suddenly narrowing at the edges.

Now? Why now?But his gut roiled and he barely made it to the door.

Felicity followed him out. “That was brilliant. Keep them wondering—oh, your Instagram is going to explode!”

He braced his arm on the wall, a slight sweat breaking down his back.

She had caught up to him. “Are you meeting her after the game? Take a video—something candid, as if it might just be for yourself. You can send it to me—I’ll put it up and tag Penelope, and her manager can handle it from there.” She held up her fist for him to bump, and he stared at her.

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