Page 16 of Taming the Grumpy Hockey Player

The fresh air hits us as we step outside, and Lewis bounds ahead, his nose to the ground, sniffing every blade of grass and lamppost like it’s his personal mission. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the sidewalks, painting the town in warm hues. As we pass the park, Lewis tugs eagerly on the leash, guiding me toward a bench where I spot Lucy. She’s sitting with a notebook in her lap, a faraway look in her eyes.

She looks up as we approach, her face lighting up in a way that makes my chest ache in the best possible way.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she says, setting her notebook aside.

“Lewis insisted,” I reply, gesturing at the dog. He wags his tail, clearly delighted to see her.

“Smart dog,” she says, ruffling Lewis’s ears as he nudges her hand. “He’s a good listener too, I bet.”

I chuckle lightly, sitting down beside her. “Maybe better than me most days. He’s got that ‘wise old soul’ thing going on.”

She smiles, and for a moment, we just sit in the comfortable quiet of the park. Finally, I break the silence. “Have you ever thought about what brought you here? How you ended up doing what you love?”

Lucy tilts her head, clearly intrigued. “All the time. Cozy Paws started out as a way to honor my dad—he loved animals, always said they brought out the best in people. But over time, it became my thing. I guess I realized how much joy it brings me to connect people with pets who need them. It’s not just about the animals; it’s about the way they change lives.”

Her passion lights up her face, and I can’t help but admire her. “That’s incredible,” I say, meaning it. “For me, hockey was kind of an escape at first. My parents signed me up because I had too much energy and no idea where to put it. But somewhere along the line, it became my anchor. There’s something about being on the ice that makes everything else fade away.”

“And now?” she asks, her voice softer. “Does it still feel like that?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Most days, yeah. But it’s different now. Before, it was all about winning, about proving myself. Lately, it’s been more about the connections—the teammates, the community. That’s what keeps me going.”

“Funny how things shift,” she muses. “What used to be about survival turns into something deeper.”

I glance at her, and for a second, it feels like we’re talking about more than hockey and the shelter. “Yeah. Deeper.”

Back at my apartment, the weight on my chest feels a little lighter. Lewis curls up beside me on the couch, his head pressed warmly against my side. The rhythmic sound of his soft breathing fills the quiet room, grounding me. Outside, the darkening sky is streaked with shades of orange and purple, a quiet reminder that even the longest days come to an end. Lucy’s words replay in my mind, steady and insistent, like an anchor holding me in place as I let my thoughts drift.

My phone buzzes, breaking the quiet. I glance at the screen and freeze. It’s a message from my ex.

We need to talk. Can we meet?

I stare at the words, emotions swirling—anger, fear, curiosity—but one rises above the rest: resolve. I don’t know what she wants, but for the first time, I feel ready to face it—to face her. Whatever this meeting brings, I know one thing for sure: it won’t define me. Not anymore.

Chapter 11

Lucy

The camera clicks, capturing another perfect moment between Mark and his adoptable dog, Bella. Photography has always been one of my favorite hobbies, a creative outlet that lets me capture the world in ways words can’t. Combining that passion with the shelter’s mission and this campaign makes the experience all the more rewarding. I glance at the screen, adjusting the angle for better lighting, and signal for the next player to step into the makeshift studio we’ve set up at the Pine Harbor Community Center. The air buzzes with energy, laughter from the team mingling with the occasional bark from Lewis, who has fully embraced his role as mascot and mischief-maker.

Logan steps forward next, his usual stoic expression slightly softened by Lewis’s excited wagging. I can’t help but smile at the contrast—this gruff hockey player completely disarmed by a dog who adores him.

“Alright, Logan,” I say, adjusting the props around them. “Just act natural. Like you haven’t been bribing Lewis with treats all day.”

“I don’t need to bribe him,” Logan retorts, kneeling beside Lewis. “He just likes me better than you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” I quip, snapping a few shots. Logan’s smirk deepens, and for a second, I catch myself noticing the way the corners of his mouth lift just enough to soften his usually serious face. There’s a steadiness in his eyes, a quiet confidence that wasn’t there before, and it strikes me how much posing with Lewis reflects that softer, genuine side of him. It’s a new layer to someone I’d thought I had pegged, and it’s nice. Familiar, even.

As the shoot continues, I catch Logan stealing a glance at the social media post template I’ve been working on. His face darkens for a moment, the hesitation clear in the slight furrow of his brow. The whispers about his ex, the lingering judgment—they’re still weighing on him.

“Everything okay?” I ask quietly once the session wraps.

Logan nods, but it’s half-hearted. “Just wondering how this whole campaign’s going to play out. What happens if the focus shifts? If my past overshadows all of this?”

“It won’t,” I say firmly. “Because this isn’t about your past. It’s about who you are now. And trust me, that’s what people care about.”

For a moment, I want to push further—to ask about the burdens he carries and the ways they’ve shaped him. But the room is bustling with people, and I know this isn’t the time. Logan wouldn’t open up in a crowd like this, and I have my hands full with the campaign. Still, I can’t help but hope there will be a quieter moment soon, a time when we can talk without distractions and dig a little deeper into what’s behind his guarded exterior.

Logan looks at me, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. “Thanks, Lucy. I mean it.”

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