Page 17 of Speed

Steve nodded. “Consistency is key—checking your levels before, during, and after practice, and ensuring you’re fueling properly.”

Cap’s smirk softened into something more encouraging. “You’ve got potential, rookie. Just focus on what you can control, and the rest will fall into place.”

“Thanks,” I said, my voice steady, though my heart raced. I wasn’t only proving myself to them—I was proving it to myself too. And while I wasn’t on the team yet, I knew I could earn that spot. I just had to show them.

When the med meeting was over I rushed to the locker room to shower, change, and meet up with the guys. They’d lingered in the hall, waiting for me, which made me feel pretty good. In a pack of about a dozen players—mostly single guys, as the married players were heading home—we made our way out of the players’ exit, waving at one of the security guys as we exited. The weather was warm. Fall wasn’t officially here yet, but you could see autumn in the shorter days of September.

We all piled into our cars. I dug inside my personal bag for a snack-size bag of assorted nuts to munch on. Settled behind the steering wheel, I cracked open a bottle of spring water, synced my phone to the stereo, and tore open the little green package of nuts. At the moment “No One Mourns the Wicked” blasted out of the speakers, I caught sight of a fire-red Maserati skidding into the parking lot. Whoever was behind the wheel was either super skilled or stupid ballsy. He slid sideways into a slot by the players’ entrance. Ooh, I was impressed.Not.

“Dumb ass showoff,” I mumbled as Glinda began to sing. Now, I couldn’t possibly hit the notes that Ariana did, but I gave it my best as I reversed out of my spot, my head filled with lyrics as I left the arena behind.

Krazy Karts HBG was one of my favorite places to hang out. Having lived in this area my whole life, I knew exactly where to go, so I arrived right behind the rowdy crew known as the Dirty Dozen. We joked around as we entered the indoor racetrack, teasing each other and calling each other out—just that kind of shit. The team had reserved the track for us for two hours of team bonding. Nothing communicates I-want-to-work-hard-alongside-you quite like crashing into your coworkers to cause them to wipe out.

The track was being readied for us, so we lingered in the lobby shooting the shit as guys do. Talk drifted from hockey to women to music. Blake, Nik, and I were standing by the front door beside a vast board with local events pinned to it when the door flew open, sending the pamphlets into a frenzy as a blast of warm air entered with a man in dark shades and a ballcap pulled low on his head. I gave him a quick glance, started to reply to something Blake said, and then, the realization of who was here hit me. It was his mouth. Those lips. I’d kissed those lips only a few days ago.

“Brody?” I choked out. He paused at the door, his gaze swinging my way as those lush lips of his flattened.

“I’m incognito,” he snapped, then moved inside, the door gliding shut behind him. We had a moment, and not one of those romantic, drawn-out lovers reunited moments. More like a what-the-fuck-do-I-say-now moment. “I went to the arena, but you’d left.”

“Dude, stalker much?” I asked.

My linemates had fallen silent.

“What?! I… no, of course not. Why would… please. No, I was just in the city and wanted to check in to see if you were okay.”

My brows knitted, and I moved closer and lowered my voice. “Seriously? What? You think that you’re so amazingly stunning that I would be lying in my bed crying into my pillow because we jerked each other off? You’re really not all that, Brody Vance.”

Hereallywasall that. Totally all that and a box of thin mints. Fuck, now I wanted a mint chocolate chip milkshake. Brody was nothing but bad for me.

“Why don’t you just announce our shit to the world?!” he snapped.

“Fuck, I?—”

“I’m incognito,” he said under his breath and took off his glasses. Every hockey player in the waiting lounge gasped. Yeah, after dating Jemima Wren, he wasthatfamous. And fuck me, just as gorgeous. “Did I not say that I wasn’t?—”

“Oh. My. God,” someone shouted—thankfully, not one of the team.

Two members of the go-kart staff rushed over to get selfies and autographs.

“Oh hey, how are you?”

I slunk off as Brody did the publicity stuff that he did so well. Smiling, charming everyone in the place, making people feel important when he didn’t give two shits about them; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so cold to them when they’d shared an intimate moment. Oh no, wait, it was only me he treated like a cold sore.

“Gunny, you feeling okay?” Blake asked as he and Nikolai joined me in the far corner.

“I’m good, just shocked to see someone I know here,” I lied, then felt bad about it.

“You know Brody Vance?” Nik asked, his eyes wide.

“Friend of a friend,” I dismissed.

“Mmmm Jemima Wren,” Nik added, “driver is big lucky.”

“So, how about we sign in for this karting.” I tried to move them along, because Brody didn’t want anyone to know he was into guys, and I didn’t want to do any more lying, so whatever. I’d cover his ass on that front even though I’d whispered some pretty personal crap a few minutes ago. And now I felt guilty. No one should be outed, no matter how bad they made you feel.Shit. Shit. Shit.Now, I had to fucking apologize to Brody.

“You two seemed very tense-filled,” Nik whispered as he glanced over Blake to glare at Brody. “Is there fiction between you two?”

“Friction, he means friction,” Blake explained when I shot Nik a confused glance.

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