Therefore, I was not blind to the fact that Asher Landry was a hockey god as far as the general populace was concerned.
For a bunch of ambitious, contract-hungry hockey players, the team was going to fucking lose its mind tomorrow when they found out who the new assistant coach was going to be.
As for me, I was walking next to the only goddamn person on the planet who could make me feel something other than dread when it came to hockey.
I couldn’t imagine being more intimidated than I was in this moment.
Sidney Crosby and the entire Canadian Olympic team, could gather in front of me, and it would not have the impact that Asher Landry did as he casually kept pace with me as we exited the building.
I was fanboying to an embarrassing level. That was it. It’s just some normal starstruck behavior. Nothing different than what I’d probably feel when I met Coach Wilder tomorrow. At his peak, Zane Wilder’s stardom eclipsed Asher’s twice over.
Heat singed the tips of my ears as I thought about all the hours I’d spent watching him play over the years. Normally, I wanted to get as far away as I could from hockey when I didn’t have to be on the ice. But when he was on the ice? Everything else disappeared.
Outside, there was a lingering warmth to the air, despite the sun having already set.
Shit. How long had I been in there for?
“Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me saying anything. Not that Zane, I mean Coach Wilder, would care. At all. There hasn’t been a rule invented yet that he hasn’t broken or considered breaking. But I’ll keep it between us just the same,” Asher explained, unprompted.
His eyes twinkled with mischief when he spoke of his former teammate, but his smile morphed into something sincere with his last few words.
God, he thinks I’m over here scared shitless of Coach, when really I’m tongue-tied with hero worship.
Say something already!
“Um, no.” I forced the words out. “I mean, I’m not worried about that. Though I probably should be.”
My gaze darted briefly up from the ground in front of my feet making eye contact with him, before I returned it to the toes of my beat-up Converse shoes.
Asher chuckled at what must have been a sheepish expression on my face.
“It’s just, you’re fucking Asher ‘The Ace’ Landry, you know?” I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “Like, you won a Stanley Cup in your first season in the NHL.”
I threw out a hand in front of us, gesturing to the downtown streets of Lakeside that surrounded us.
“And now you’re here, like, walking me out of a practice arena? It’s just surreal to me. Why am I still talking?”
Heat prickled under the neckline of my sweaty T-shirt, making it so I couldn’t feel the cool evening air.
I prayed to all the hockey gods that it was just dark enough that he couldn’t see my neck flush with embarrassment.
While I contemplated my entire existence after those completely uncool words, we’d reached the opposite side of the street and stopped in front of my new apartment building.
Asher came around in front of me, creating a temporary obstacle between me and the front doors. Not able to make eye contact again, I glanced over his shoulder to the foyer, where the concierge stared at something on one of his monitors.
“Cade, listen.” His voice was calm and reassuring. “Look at me, Rookie.”
I barely refrained from wrinkling my nose at the nickname “Rookie.”
I was turning twenty-two, damn it. More than old enough to be considered an adult. Hell, I felt forty inside on most days.
With a deep inhale, I brought my gaze up to meet his. His deep brown eyes contained none of the mocking glint I’d expect to see from a certified hockey star. Instead, they reflected a genuine warmth that pulled me in immediately.
“I’m not sure if they made this general knowledge or what, but NHL players are people, too. That Stanley Cup trophy? The team won it, eh? Not me alone. We’ve just conned corporate into paying us a lot of money to play games for a living, you know?” He winked conspiratorially.
As if we both didn’t know how much it took to get to the elite level Asher had to perform at. So few possessed the raw talent, ultimate discipline, and level of hard work it took to keep his spot on the roster.
He half rolled his shoulder before he caught the movement and stopped. Asher appeared to consciously release the tightness of the muscle and then shrugged in a way that was supposed to cover the fact that he’d been favoring the area.
