Page 49 of Playmaker

Callie shot a look my way.

“I told them about our arrangement, and they’re nosy fuckers.”

JJ smiled. “Coop is showing layers we didn’t know he had.”

I bumped my shoulder into him. “Don’t freak her out.”

We arrived at the bays. I’d brought the clubs Callie and I used, but the others decided to rent something here and save bringing their own. I preferred my own equipment, and Callie needed to be familiar with her clubs for her tournament.

Last time, Callie’d had the bay mostly to herself. I’d only taken a few shots, because she was the one trying to improve. This time, we all took turns.

Callie watched everyone carefully. Probably making mental notes on how they stood and swung and how effective they were. I saw Royston’s eyes dwelling on her as she lined up for a shot.

I nudged him. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“She’s not a jersey chaser.”

He shot a glance at me. “Doesn’t mean she might not want some fun.”

“She doesn’t do fun. She’s a tax attorney, on the partner track. She’s only taking time for golf for her firm’s tournament.”

“She can turn me down herself. You don’t need to gatekeep.”

“I’m trying to help her here. Don’t make it uncomfortable.”

“Dude, I’ve been turned down before.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t have to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m telling you this is not the time.”

He smirked. “You’re not with her, right? So it’s up to her.”

I wanted to march the guy right out of the facility and throw him on his ass, but settled for a glare and made sure Royston played in the other bay. Next time we weren’t inviting this crew along.

A man with a prominent belly stretching his expensive polo shirt stopped where we were taking turns. “This is how the team is spending the offseason?”

Royston stiffened beside me, so it wasn’t just me getting asshole vibes off this guy.

“We need some downtime.” I smiled, teeth gritted, being the team rep I was supposed to be.

“After that last game, I think you need something other than downtime. That pass—and Mitchell. Hope he’s back with the Inferno where he belongs.”

Most hockey fans were great. They might assume they knew us and invade some of our personal space, but they loved hockey, loved the team, and were the foundation of our sport. Without them, I wouldn’t be playing the game I loved and getting paid well to do so. But some thought they knew more than we did, more than our coaches did, and that it was necessary to give us their input.

I put a hand on Royston’s shoulder before he exploded into speech. He was rash, and I didn’t need him to get in trouble. Too many people watching, too many phones ready to catch an encounter.

Ducky was up in the other bay, which was good because he was the most impulsive. Crash and JJ were unlikely to shoot off their mouths. And Petrov—well, he was a law unto himself. He headed over.Shit.This could go badly.

Suddenly Callie pushed past us. “Mr. Duffy. How are you doing?”

He frowned at her. “Do I know you?”

“I work at Anderson, Krys and Chan. I was in a meeting to discuss your new expansion.”

His eyes dropped and focused on her breasts. My hand formed a fist, and this time Royster was holding on to me.

“Hard to believe I missed you.”

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