Page 7 of Shot on Goal at a Second Chance
Might as well get it over with. Hopefully, this will be our first and last encounter. I gesture his way. “Your question?”
“What makes you think you can bring this team back from the brink?” His eyes challenge me, just like he used to. And that same bristle I remember spreads through me. The man always knew which of my buttons to push.
I scan the expectant faces of the players watching me as if their fate rested on my answer. They know, and I know that next season will determine a lot about the future of the Sun Kings. And this old arena isn’t the only thing in desperate need of repair.
“I can’t, but I’m confident that we can.” I swivel my head to look at the staff behind me, then face forward again, meeting the stares of several of the players. “We are a team—all of us. It won’t be easy. But this place? This team? It has good bones, and we’ve gotfire in our veins. So let the league count us out. We’ll show them exactly what a second chance looks like.”
First, the goalie, Wade, taps his stick on the ice. Then, the others follow suit. Tears threaten to push into my eyes, but I manage to restrain them. But the warmth spreading through me energizes my resolve to make my words prove true. To unite this ragtag team into a force to be reckoned with.
And no one, not even Zach Keller, will tell me otherwise.
CHAPTER 4
Zach
Iwait for the last person vying for Rebecca’s attention to finish before I approach her. Can’t help but admire her resolve. She’s still the spitfire I remember. Just a little older, although she looks the same to me. She does appear more professional with her highlighted blonde hair cut to shoulder length instead of falling down her back. And she traded in her jeans and hockey T-shirt for business attire, which accents her curves to perfection.
But it’s still her. The girl I fell hard for once and let go of in pursuit of my NHL dreams. A short-lived dream but, nonetheless, the one I wanted. Until the NHL didn’t want me anymore. Three injuries and two surgeries on the same knee forced me to retire sooner than I would have liked. But it is what it is. I found a way to stay in the game, even if it’s not on the ice.
Seeing Rebecca again, though, I can’t help wondering if what we had could have been the longer-lasting dream. Not long after I got an NHL contract, Iwent back to see her, but her father made it clear she was better off without me. Then, my sister was diagnosed with brain cancer and passed away when Laney was five, leaving me as her sole guardian. Still, if I’d tried harder, maybe we’d be together today.
As I approach, she clasps her hands in front of her, a smile still present but strained, unlike the easy one she presented to the others she spoke to. But her startling gray-blue eyes are what stop me in my tracks, just like they always did in the past.
“Good to see you, Rebecca.” And it is. More so than I expected.
“Been a while, Zach. How are you?” Her eyes dart to the side as if she’s looking for an excuse to walk away from me.
And I wouldn’t blame her. I pretty much did that to her.
“I’m…good. For the most part.” I pat my right leg above the knee. “Would have liked to have played longer, but you know.”
She nods. “I’d heard. But you’ve done well in broadcasting.”
Pushing my jacket back, I slip my hands into my pants pockets, adding a teasing tone to my voice. “Does that mean you’ve been following my career?”
A slight flush appears on her cheeks. “No, but one hears things when you work in the same industry.”
“Of course.” I find the contradiction between her reaction to my question and her reply fascinating. Maybe she didn’t forget about me either.
“Did you have any other questions?” Her tone isdistant and professional, but that just challenges me to find out if the soft, sweet Becks I remember is still in there somewhere.
She fiddles with a button on her sleeve above her wrist—the same spot I used to love to kiss. When she notices I’m staring at her fingers, she jerks her arm to her side.
That must mean she remembers, too, right? “Just one. Have dinner with me tonight?”
A short laugh escapes her full lips. “Thank you, but no.”
I don’t walk away that easily. At least, not anymore. “I could use a couple of quotes for my coverage.”
“Then you’re proposing an interview over a meal?”
“Sure, let’s call it that.” A soft chuckle accompanies my words.
Her eyes narrow. “In that case, lunch tomorrow, my office.”
There’s the spitfire I remember. “Deal. I’ll bring the food.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” She flashes me another strained smile before walking away.
