But the look flashes only for a moment.
Without warning, the woman spins like a goalie after a runaway puck and flees into the crowd. I take a step forward and then I stop.
Why would I follow her?
She’s clearly terrified of me.
Maybe I accidentally bumped into her in a crowded elevator and she never forgave me?
Maybe I look like an old boyfriend who did her wrong?
Maybe my face is just ugly?
Well, not that last one.
I’ve had enough social media thirst traps and flirtatious DMs to know that—even with my hair shaved—I’m not half bad to look at.
Maybe she’s a disappointed fan? At the start of my recovery, my most loyal fans were holding prayer vigils outside the hospital. But when it became clear that I wasnotgetting back into my team or any other league team for the foreseeable future, most of my fanbase fizzled out.
Heck, even my own girlfriend…
I flex my jaw. I donotwant to think about that right now.
“Campbell!”
I hear my name above the noise of the crowd and spin to find Chance McLanely and Gunner Kinsey approaching me. A wide, excited grin spreads on my face.
I’ve spent the last two weeks training with McLanely and today, I spent hours handing out brochures with him.
Maybe one day I’ll stop getting starstruck.
But today isnotthat day.
Chance sees me grinning like a kid and just shakes his head, already used to the hero worship. I’m not the only one who’s still treating him like the legend that he is. Half the guys who signed up for the training camp in this little-known town with this little-known team did so to be in proximity to McLanely.
It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity just to share the ice with him.
“McLanely. Kinsey.” I nod at the hockey legend first and then dip my chin at Kinsey, who’s been a quiet presence at training.
Unlike McLanely, who’s often bombarded with trainees on the ice and holds court on the benches, fielding questions from rookies who can only dream of the success he found—Kinsey keeps to himself unless Renthrow or Chance pull him into conversation.
Kinsey also scowls a lot.
Which is why the soft, affectionate smiles he’s been shooting at the blonde bombshell hanging from his arm takes me bysurprise. While working in the booth together, I saw a very different side of Kinsey than I do at training.
“Thanks for your help today, Nathan.” Rebel, Kinsey’s girlfriend, smiles at me. It’s so dazzling that I look away out of sheer respect.
“No problem.”
“We were heading to the food stalls for some pizza. You should join us,” Rebel says, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
“Sounds great, but I was about to head home.”
“You must be tired.” April, Chance’s girlfriend, shoots McLanely a look. “I’ve heard how grueling the training camp is. I hope you came out today because you had the time and not because anyone pressured you or used their authority on the team to get you here.”
McLanely looks affronted and whines, “Tink, I’m innocent.”
I smirk. “It was my idea to come.” Although my plan to get a read on Max failed spectacularly. The team manager spent most of his time driving with April’s sister, May, to get supplies. “I didn’t have much on my schedule anyway.”
