“Fuck if I know.” Coach Wilder’s deadpan delivery had the team erupting in a roar of laughter so loud, I glanced around to the few other patrons at the bar to see if they were bothered by the racket. None of the other people around us so much as turned our way. They must have been used to the team’s antics in this place.
“I’m so glad he asked.” Kovac turned his head in my direction, drawing Hawkins’ attention on the other side of me. “I’ve been wondering that for three seasons.”
“Really? Shit, Tiger. You could have asked me.” Amusement laced Hawkins’ tone.
“Right. And risk being told there was a legend about the great white north hammerhead shark who swam up the St. Lawrence River and into the Great Lakes area, where he was widely believed to walk on land at night and gobble up naughty Canadian children up past their bedtimes?” Kovac arched an eyebrow at Hawkins.
“Damn, Tiger. You’ve given this some thought. You should write a kids’ book. That’s what we gotta tell the rookies next year. See how long it takes them to figure out we’re full of shit.” Hawkins offered me a conspiratorial wink, making me glad he hadn’t had more time to think up stuff to torment me with. “That’s better than the drop bears I heard about when I visited Australia.”
“Drop Bears?” Kovac’s eyebrows rose in question. “These are real animals?” His tone was skeptical. And with our captain, it seemed like a wise way to be.
“I mean,” Hawkins’ gaze met mine, and crinkles formed around his eyes as he failed to hold back a grin. “Inever saw one when I was there, but I didn’t have a chance to go into the outback at all. There are apparently these bears that are similar to koalas, but bigger. And at some points in the year, you gotta worry about them falling out of the trees on top of you because that’s their way of protecting themselves from predators.”
Kovac’s eyes narrowed as he considered the explanation.
“It is like living with Pinocchio and the boy who cried wolf in one person,” Kovac muttered to himself. But it seemed Hawkins was satisfied after getting yet another reaction out of his friend and he turned his attention back to the rest of the table.
I chuckled sincerely, surprising myself. Usually, it took me a long time to warm up to new people, but it looked like my new roommates were not going to allow me to keep to myself, no matter how much I tried.
It’s going to make it that much harder to convince everyone you actually want to be here.
My smile dimmed at the thought. I’d never let myself get close to any of my teammates before, always hoping that someone better would come along and take my spot on the team. That way, management could easily write me off as the player who “never fit in with the team” anyway.
But this team seemed so different from any of the others I’d been on before.
I’d been right a few weeks earlier when I got the impression Coach Wilder was different. He wasinsane.
“C’mon, rookies, pick up the pace. We’re headed to Abbotsford tomorrow, and they’ve got some of the fastest players in the league. Ever stood between a twenty-four-mile-per-hour wrecking ball and its target? If you don’t start working with your line mates, instead of around them, some of you are going to find out!” His voice penetrated the thick fog of my exhaustion.
Did I even have any limbs at this point? I no longer knew anything because I sure couldn’t feel them.
“All right, guys, get some water.” Asher—Coach Landry,I reminded myself for the millionth time in the three weeks—called my line over to the players’ bench. The three of us collapsed on the wooden seat.
I’d just been switched to the second line with the two veteran right and left wingers of the team: Jacob Klein and Zac Brenner.
Asher’s eyes roved over my face, and what he saw prompted a teasing kind of smile. “Guess you’ve learned Coach Wilder’s secret, eh, Rookie?”
I couldn’t form a response, too focused on sucking all the oxygen into my lungs that I’d missed out on in the last ninety minutes. The best I could offer was a widening of my eyes in question.
“He’s all fun and games until he’s on the ice, and then he’s the most focused, driven man I know.” Asher’s gaze never left mine, his words meant for me. I couldn’t help but be sucked into the deep brown pools flecked with warm amber, simultaneously making him look like a model and a guy who liked to push people’s buttons playfully. “He’s also aiming for the Calder Cup this season,” he said more seriously, glancing between the three of us before him.
Translation: practices weren’t going to get any easier any time soon.
Klein and Brenner grunted in acknowledgment on either side of me. They were also breathing noticeably less hard than I was, despite being older than me by at least four years each.
“I’ll do better,” I said, my voice rough.
Asher opened his mouth to respond, but a bellow from the other side of the arena stopped whatever he was about to say.
“Hammerheads! We’re done for today. Great work at the end,” Coach Wilder called out. A tired cheer followed his words. “I mean it. You’re getting hungrier for the win; I can see it. Now go home and rest before our flight tomorrow morning.”
Klein and Brenner made their way toward the locker rooms with a quiet “Coach” and a nod of goodbye for Asher.
I yanked off my helmet, letting it dangle from my fingers, and closed my eyes, my chin dropping to my chest pads. I assumed Asher would follow Coach Wilder and the other two assistant coaches to their offices, with Coach calling an end to practice.
I would move as soon as I could muster up the energy. Plus, it was nice when the locker room crowd thinned out and I didn’t have to worry about making conversation.
A body dropped onto the bench by my side, surprising me. I brought my head up and turned to him, my eyes popping open.
