Page 11 of Wildcat
“Yeah, I get it. This is why Talia is perfect. She’s only interested in the hockey stuff, and she’s cool with a last-minute invite. One bird, two stones.”
“Talia is sleeping with half the league.”
He shrugs. “When she’s in town, we’re exclusive. It works.”
“When she’s in town?” I counter. “You say that like she’s an international businesswoman instead of a part-time model who goes from city to city to hit up her many boy toys.”
Ash laughs lightly like he doesn’t care. Maybe he doesn’t. His relationship with Talia, if we’re even calling it that, makes no sense to me.
“Scarlett was different.”
“I can see that, Romeo. You haven’t stopped grinning. Well, if you’re serious about this chick, then yeah, your timing is awful.”
“Gee, thanks. In the future, I’ll try to randomly bump into the hottest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on at a more convenient time.”
“Hottest girl you’ve ever laid eyes on, huh?” He makes a face to show his surprise.
“Definitely. She was a dream. Too good to be true.”
“Damn. I knew I should have met up with you last night.”
By the time we get on the road for our guys trip, staying up all night is starting to catch up with me, but I’ve got big afternoon plans that include napping the entire ride up to Ash’s lake house and then chilling on the boat with a beer in my hand.
Jack, Declan, Ash, and I go every year just before camp, and this year, we invited two rookies: Tyler and Maverick. It’s a chill weekend away from the arena where we have a chance to hang out and let loose before the season starts.
We take two vehicles and, unfortunately, I picked the wrong one to ride up in. Ash is at the wheel, and I’m riding shotgun. Johnny Maverick, a rookie straight out of college, is yapping a mile a minute from the middle seat in the back of Ash’s truck. Maverick is a cool dude—funny, high-energy, and as a teammate, he’s going to be a blast to play with, but right now, when all I want is the lull of the tires rolling down the road, I’m wishing he’d gone with the other guys.
Two hours later, we pull into the driveway of Ash’s place behind Jack, Dec, and Ty. The house sits just off the lake, has a great back yard for playing washers, grilling, and drinking, and the inside is big enough for all of us guys to have our own room. Not that we’ll spend a lot of time in them this weekend.
I’ve barely dropped my things in one of the rooms when Jack appears in the doorway with a basket. He holds it out toward me, and I can see the other phones he has already collected.
“Seriously?”
He smirks but doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. Jack is huge on disconnecting. I think it’s the only way he stays sane.
“Can I just send a text first?”I ask, thinking of Scarlett. I bring up her contact on my phone. Fuck, what do I even say? It isn’t like I can see her this weekend or next week. We get back Sunday night, and camp starts early Monday and goes all day, all week long.
The beginning of the season is brutal, but I enjoy the onslaught of hockey each year. Unfortunately, it also means that I’m looking at an entire week before I can see Scarlett again.
Last night was fun. Work is crazy right now. Call you soon.
It isn’t the greatest text ever composed, but it’ll do for now. I toss my phone in the basket. I’ll follow up next week after camp is over when I have more than two hours I can devote solely to her.
5
ALTERNATE CAPTAIN
LEO
I’min the locker room, pulling on my shoes, every muscle in my body screaming, when Jack stops in front of my stall. It’s the last day of camp, and contented exhaustion flows through me. What a fucking week.
“Coach and Blythe want to see us before we head out,” my captain says.
I groan but get to my feet and follow him. Blythe, the head of marketing for the Wildcats, is the first one I see. She’s holding onto a game jersey, and dread washes over me at the thought of another press conference. It feels like the worse I do in interviews, the more they shove at me like they’re trying to fix it. I think this might be one of those instances where we should let sleeping dogs lie.
“Lohan.” Coach smiles, stepping next to Blythe. He’s a nice guy—tough but fair. It’s only his second season as head coach, but he’s earned our respect. He’s smart, and he works hard, and he isn’t afraid to switch things up, which is nice. We’re a young team, the youngest in the NHL in fact, so we have a lot of eager and energetic guys ready to jump around and do whatever’s needed.
“Hey, Coach.” I nod to Blythe. “Not sick of me yet, huh?”
