"Kid's got incredible natural talent,"Carson says."The Jaguars tried to force him to play their way, to be someone he's not. Here, we want our players to be themselves."
I swallow hard, the familiar guilt churning in my gut.
He clears his throat."Because of the altercation he had with Belov, they were motivated to move him, so we got him for a lot less than he's worth."
I nod slowly. And at the end of last season there was a fight between Pirelli and their team's biggest star, a Russian powerhouse named Vladimir Belov, that was all over the hockey news.
"Travis believes Pirelli could be a real asset. But I won't lie, it's a risk,"Carson continues. He runs a hand through his hair."If Travis is wrong about him, or if Pirelli can't or won't leave his antics behind..."He lets the sentence hang.
He doesn't have to say the words. If this gamble doesn't pay off, it won't only be Pirelli's career on the line. It could be the final nail in the coffin for our whole team.
"I'll do everything I can to make it a smooth adjustment,"I tell Carson, meaning it, despite the knot in my gut.
Some of the tension leaves Carson's shoulders."I know you will, Rylan. I'm counting on you to help get Pirelli onboard. The guys respect your leadership. You've never let personal issues get in the way of what's best for the team."
If he only knew.My entire career has been built on keeping my'personalissues'locked away, deep in the darkness of the closet.
"Whatever you need from me."My words are automatic. Being the captain means putting the team first, no matter what. Even when it means welcoming someone whose presence makes me question things about myself that I've spent years trying to ignore.
But this isn't about me or my...issues. I square my shoulders."We'll make it work."
I just wish I felt as confident as I sound.
Chapter 2
JAMIE
The rental car's leather steering wheel is smooth and cool under my palms. Through the windshield, the sleek architecture of the Seattle Sasquatch's practice arena and training complex rises. My new teamclearlyspared no expense with this place, it's a showpiece, unlike the practice rink in Florida, which was banished to some random warehouse district that even GPS had trouble finding. Talk about night and day.
My phone buzzes with a text from my sister."Dude, you got this."
A smile tugs at my lips despite the butterflies in my stomach. Lola's always in my corner. My whole family is the same way. They back me up no matter what, even if they don't get why I do half the things I do. We're tight-knit, but man, it's hard not to feel like the black sheep sometimes. They're all very academic and cerebral, with their noses buried in research and dissertations, laser-focused on climbing career ladders, or in my parents' case, being well-respected in academia.
Meanwhile, I've always been the extroverted jock who'd pick tossing a ball around with my buddies over hitting the books.The social butterfly who thrives on team spirit and sunshine. Talk about not fitting the family mold. Maybe that's why getting frozen out by my Florida teammates cut me so deep. Sometimes it's hard to feel like there's anywhere I belong.
Nope, not gonna go down that rabbit hole.Today is all about fresh starts and new beginnings. A clean slate, or whatever other cliche you can plug in there.
My leg bounces as I stare at the building working up the courage to go inside. I wasn't supposed to arrive in Seattle until late tonight, but after I got the official word of my trade, I grabbed an earlier flight. I was eager to get the fuck out of Florida.
After the beatdown my teammate Vladimir Belov and I gave each other at the end of last season, I knew I was done with the Jaguars, so I got my shit together and dealt with a lot of moving details early. I spent my entire summer waiting for a trade.Unfortunately, I didn't get to find out where I was going to be playing this year until yesterday. There's nothing quite like getting one day's notice to move from one corner of the USA to the other, but hey, I'm not about to complain about leaving that shitty experience in my rearview mirror. This is a fresh start, and there is no fucking way I'm going to screw up this chance.
I know I'm a damn good hockey player, but unless I tone down my antics and myadmittedlybad attitude, Iprobablywon't get another chance in this league. I've managed to burn some bridges in the last three years, so the pressure is on for me to prove myself. It's now or never.
Deep breath... I can do this.
The crisp, autumn air fills my lungs as I walk across the parking lot--a nice contrast to Florida's sticky humidity.
The glass doors whoosh open and I hitch my backpack over my shoulder as I step through. Four pristine ice rinks stretch out before me. There's a bright atrium straight ahead of me where abunch of kids are playing on a jungle gym while their adults chat and drink coffees on sleek benches. A skate shop sits behind the play area.
Okay, this is it. Time to show them who Jamie Pirellireallyis, not who the Jaguars made me out to be.
I head up the wide, glass staircase to the second-floor offices. A young woman with a blonde pixie cut sits at the reception desk, and she greets me with a bright smile.
"Hi, there, how can I help you?"
"Hey, I'm Jamie Pirelli." I smile politely at her. "I'm—
Her blue eyes widen as she recognizes my name."Oh my gosh, I know who you are! Hi, Jamie, I'm Riley Campbell. It's so great to meet you."She jumps up from her chair and comes around the reception desk, extending her hand, her smile growing warmer."I work in PR, but I'm helping out in reception this afternoon. I didn't realize you were coming in today."
