Page 103 of Double Pucked

Andrei laughs it off and the conversation moves on to the next game and the one after that.

And that’s the thing—it was one game, and anything could have happened, but it was a relief to play well. The bigger relief? My teammates haven’t said a thing about the podcast blowup and the bigshe’s your fake girlfriendbit.

In the hallway, Gianna catches up and says she wants Ledger and me for the post-game press in ten minutes.

“I’ll be there,” I say, and a few minutes later, after I take off my skates and jersey, we head to the media room. Along the way, Ledger shoots me a thoughtful look. “Don’t let that shit get to you. That bad luck charm stuff. I don’t think you are, but I just wanted to say it.”

And I spoke too soon. They noticed. Or at least, he did.

“Me, let something get to me? Never,” I say, keeping things light even though I don’t feel that way inside. I haven’t since Trina walked out. I know it’s for the best. Truly, I do. But I miss her more than I’d expected. Too bad there’s nothing I can do about it.

Ledger gives me a dubious look, but there’s no time to dig deeper since Gianna’s ready and waiting outside the room. Which means I need my armor since it’s New York and the press here has fangs.

After a couple easy questions about the game, a reporter in the back barks out, “Joe Cotton.New York Press. So you dumped the bad luck charm?”

And I burn inside as the gloves come off. I hate that he called her that. But I can’t let on. I’m all smiles as I say, “C’mon, Joe. You know you can’t believe everything you read. She’s a friend.”

“That’s not what I heard,” Joe presses. “She was your pretend girlfriend. Why’d you need a pretend girlfriend? To improve your play?”

And yup. I had a feeling this would happen, but I’m staying on message because it’s the right thing for her. But Gianna cuts in, leaning toward the mic at the table. “We’d like to keep the questions focused on hockey.”

“Fine. How was it dating someone who hates the sport?” someone else asks.

Clever. Real clever.

“That’s not hockey related,” Gianna corrects, but I can’t let her handle this mess for me.

“Actually, she knows a helluva lot about hockey,” I say. “Picked up the nuances real fast. And if you’re interested in nuance, you might want to consider reading a romance novel. You might learn a thing or two. Next question?”

Gianna seems to stifle a grin, and she lets the questions come. I handle them all. I might not be able to have Trina, but I can protect her even from afar.

* * *

Later, when the battering session is done, I return to the locker room with Gianna and Ledger. “It’ll die down soon. And then you’ll be like me, and they’ll just ask when you’ll retire,” he says.

“Not on my watch,” Gianna warns him.

“Or mine,” I add. I rely on this guy. I don’t want to think about playing without him. Just like I don’t want to think about being back in my home without Trina when I return to California in a few more days.

That’s going to suck big time.

Sucks, too, that I can’t call or text Ryker to get a beer and play pool. We’re not really talking, and that’s all kinds of messed up.

But for now, I’m the hassle to the team, and I hate being that guy. “Listen, Gianna. This should blow over soon. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure we can just keep on sailing,” I say, staying cheery.

“It’s okay. My job is to smooth your path, not the other way around.”

“Thank you,” I say, wishing I didn’t need the help.

When she heads the other way, Ledger holds up a stop-sign hand. “Chase,” he says and shit’s getting serious if he’s using my first name.

“Yeah?”

“I told the guys not to say anything. About the podcast and your…friend.And everything that went down.”

Oh.

I scratch my jaw, a little embarrassed that it came to that, him cleaning up my mess. But this explanation makes sense—explains why the guys said nothing. They listen to Ledger since he speaks from years of authority.

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