She's gone again.
"Should we keep moving?" I ask, my voice rougher than earlier.
She glances around the room, but this time, it's not the simple space it was before. Now, it's filled with a depth that she doesn't seem ready to dive into. "I don't know. Maybe I've seen enough for today."
I consider arguing—contemplate questioning what the hell is going on. But I don't.
I'm used to this.
"Yeah," I say instead, nodding slowly. "Maybe you have."
13
Brooke
"Brooke!" Levi calls to me from the bench as I scroll through my list of polling questions for the boys. My plan is to stick around for practice and grab some pictures, then video them coming off of the ice and answering one for the camera.
Standing from my seat in the row right behind him, I step up to the boards. Levi tosses something small over the glass, and I fumble my phone trying not to let either fall through the seats.
"That's the key to Jenny's old office. It's down the hall from mine. Drew reminded me I never gave you any of her equipment. That's my fault. Use whatever you need."
I'm caught off guard by just about everything he says—office, Drew, equipment. Mostly because I've never had an office before. Not that it's reallymine,of course. And Drew—he just keeps surprising me.
"Thanks, I'll take a look while you guys are out there."
Levi nods, then holds his phone screen up to the glass. "These are the job requirements I forgot to show you last week."
I scan the list. There's nothing on there that I didn't expect—or already Google. Capture photos and videos, create content, schedule posts, track trends, collaborate with the marketing team, and interactwith fans online. Most of it is either obvious or something I won't be around for long enough to worry about.
"This is all very professional of you, Coach McHottie," I say, tapping the glass where his now blacked-out screen is still displayed.
He rolls his eyes, pulling the phone back down and swiping up on the device. Pressing it back to the glass, he says, "And this is what I can offer you for the time you're here. That is, if Burns and Anderson didn't already scare you away with theirtour."
I grin, glancing down at the screen, then back up at Levi, who's looking over his shoulder as the guys start funneling onto the ice. Leaning in closer, I double check the number.
"I don't think that's right," I say, calculating. "You only asked for a month."
Levi turns the phone back toward himself, nods, then flips it to me again. "That's the number, Larkin."
I do the math once more, and I know I didn't go to college—sorry, Mother—but I'm not stupid. And I know money. That easily matches what my pay would be for the next month at The Gilded Pub, plus more, and that's without dealing with college kids on cheesesteak nights. I already got Tessa to cover my shifts for me for the time being. Luckily, she's in-between her regular gigs and was eager to take them.
Mentally thanking Tess—and Alex for banging the fucking coach like I so graciously suggested—I smile. "Sounds good to me."
Levi pockets his phone. "Cool," is all he says before he turns around, steps off of the bench, and starts skating toward the boys.
I take one look at the team, spotting the goalie, who, thanks to my studying over the last couple of nights, I now know is Carter Ward.Take that, college.His legs are bent in a way a girl could only dream, but with my new temporary salary in mind, I shake the immediate thought and head back toward the tunnel.
"If your hockey stick had a name, what would it be?" I ask the next player off, sticking the tiny wireless microphone out over the tripod.
The player, who I believe is Ellis but could easily be Hughes—I'm getting better, but I'm notthatgood—stutters. "Uh, I, um… Hercules."
I smile politely.
"No, Thor."
I nod, pulling the microphone back.
"No, wait..."
