Page 2 of Taming the Grumpy Hockey Player

“Words?” I snort. “More like a grumpy monologue about how we’re ruining his precious hockey practice.”

Emma hides a smile. “He’s…not great at first impressions.”

“Or second ones,” I mutter, earning a laugh from her.

Emma’s loyalty to her brother runs deep, and while I know she’s only half-defending him, I decide to steer the conversation toward safer ground to avoid diving into family dynamics. “How’s Lewis doing?” I ask, referring to one of our shelter dogs she’s been fostering.

“He’s a sweetheart,” Emma says, her face lighting up. “If I didn’t already have my hands full, I’d keep him.”

As we chat, a ping on my phone draws my attention. It’s an email notification from Coach Turner, the Timberwolves’ head coach. The subject line reads: Proposal for Collaboration.

Curious, I open the email and skim the contents. My eyebrows rise as I read about the "Adopt-a-Player" campaign—a partnership between the Timberwolves and Cozy Paws to pair players with adoptable pets for promotional purposes. The idea is intriguing, but it also comes with the risk of stirring up even more tension with Logan. The campaign is meant to boost community engagement and visibility for both the shelter and the team.

“Interesting,” I murmur, my mind already racing. This could be huge for the shelter, but the thought of working with the Timberwolves also brings an uncomfortable twist to my stomach. More exposure to Logan Mitchell’s gruff attitude wasn’t exactly on my wish list after today’s clash. Still, I can’t shake the notion that the campaign’s potential outweighs my irritation.

“What’s interesting?” Emma asks, peering over my shoulder.

I show her the email, and her face brightens. “That’s a great idea! Logan’s good with animals, you know.”

“Good at scowling at them, maybe,” I quip, though Emma’s words stick with me. Could Logan actually pull off being the face of a campaign like this? More importantly, could I?

As the day winds down, Kate joins me at the supply table, where I’m folding leftover adoption brochures.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, nudging me with her elbow. “That email got you thinking, didn’t it?”

“It’s…complicated,” I admit. “On one hand, it could be amazing for the shelter. But on the other…Logan Mitchell.”

I chew my lip, glancing at the adoption brochures I’ve been folding. "It’s not just today—he’s always been like this. Every time we’ve crossed paths, it’s the same thing: gruff, impatient, like everyone’s wasting his time. He doesn’t even try to hide it."

Kate leans her chin on her hand, smirking. "Sounds like he’s made quite an impression."

"Oh, he has," I reply, rolling my eyes. "There was that time at the charity gala when he brushed past me and nearly knocked the donation table over. Did he apologize? Nope. Just muttered something about being in a hurry and left. And last summer, when we had the town cleanup day, he showed up late and acted like he was doing us all a favor by being there."

Kate’s eyes sparkle with amusement. "You’ve got a whole highlight reel of grievances, huh?"

I sigh, realizing how much space he’s taken up in my head. "It’s not like I go looking for reasons to dislike him. He just makes it…easy."

Kate grins. “That’s not a reason to say no. If anything, it’s all the more reason to dive in. Imagine the endless sparring sessions—you’d be in your element.”

I groan. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re overthinking. Just give it a chance. Who knows? Logan might surprise you.”

The idea is laughable, yet as I pack up the event supplies and head home, the email’s words replay in my mind, stirring a mix of excitement and unease. What if this campaign could be the breakthrough the shelter needs? What if working with Logan proves I’ve underestimated him…or worse, overestimated my patience? Maybe there’s more to Logan Mitchell than his gruff exterior. Or maybe he’s exactly what he seems: a headache waiting to happen.

Either way, I can’t deny the pull of possibility. This campaign could change everything—for the shelter, for the community, and maybe even for me.

Chapter 2

Logan

Abuzz of voices fills the Pine Harbor Community Center’s meeting room, blending with the scrape of chairs and the faint aroma of coffee to set a tone of lively anticipation. The room’s usual decor of motivational posters and hockey team memorabilia seems brighter under the fluorescent lights. Pine Harbor’s influential figures—coaches, local leaders, and a few players—mingle in a loose circle, clutching coffee cups and murmuring about the latest town happenings. Outside the large windows, the glow from nearby shops and lampposts adds to the small-town charm, a reminder that Pine Harbor thrives on connection and community spirit.

I lean against the back wall, my arms crossed, scanning the room. Meetings like this aren’t usually my thing. I’d rather be on the ice or anywhere else, really, but Coach Turner made it clear attendance was non-negotiable. My gaze flickers to the mayor, a short man with a booming voice, currently laughing heartily with Mark. Meanwhile, Coach Turner is arranging some notes at the head of the room, his expression as unreadable as always.

Mark sidles up beside me, his easy grin already in place. “You look like you’re planning your escape.”

“Not planning,” I mutter. “Just regretting.”

---