I glanced over at the group. Chris and Dyl were still chatting with Richie. Dylan mimed using a hockey stick to hit a puck through a goal.
I didn’twantto do this, but I felt like I had to. Because if I didn’t, then I knew I’d spend the entire afternoon sitting with Eli, talking about nothing while wanting to learn everything I could about him. “We should probably see if Richie needs to be rescued. When those two get started talking about hockey, they never stop.”
Eli nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice a look of slight disappointment. Was he enjoying this time together as much as I was?
And was that even more reason for me to force some distance between us?
No.
It was a singular thought that blasted into my head.
Chapter Six
Let’s Play With Some Balls
ELI
The dive barwas packed for it being a random Tuesday night in November. I hadn’t realized Burlington went this hard for their drink specials. Apparently, it was buy one, get one tonight. Not that anyone on the team was utilizing much of it. We had our first home game coming up this week, and no one was looking to wake up with a hangover for practice tomorrow.
Granted, it was against a team that the Bobcats typically dog-walked across the ice, but still, we all wanted to be at peak performance.
Especiallyme. I had shit to prove tomorrow. I didn’t often get nervous before games, but I couldn’t ignore the buzzing energy inside my chest that made my heart beat faster than usual. It was fed by a fear of messing up and of making it clear that trading me onto the team was a mistake.
That was likely one of my biggest fears in life. Continually and massively letting down people who counted on me. I was a grade A people pleaser. I wanted everyone around me to not only be happy but pleased with me, withmy performance. The second I got a whiff of disappointment, I shut down. I beat myself up and made shit so much worse for myself.
It was difficult to recognize in the moment. I’d been getting better at calling out my negative thought patterns and trying to break them, but it wasn’t an easy task when logic was constantly overridden with anxious thoughts.
I chewed on my pink nail—a bad habit sponsored and brought to me by anxiety—and tried to focus on the moment, not on the chance of failure beyond this moment.
The sounds of some overplayed pop song bounced between the wooden beams covered in dollar bills as Soren tried to talk over the music, in the midst of explaining why ice plunges were crucial in his recovery and performance.
Real riveting stuff.
Dylan caught my attention and nodded to the bar. I followed him over. I leaned my elbows against the polished but very scuffed bar top. Dylan ordered himself a tall, icy-cold glass of water, which he raised and clinked against my half-empty Stella. I tried not to stare at the interesting—and frankly handsome—birthmarks that streaked his eyebrow and hair. It looked like someone had taken a paintbrush and swiped it directly across and around the side of his head. If he didn’t have a career in hockey, then I was pretty sure he’d be fine making it as a model.
“Ready for tomorrow?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m feeling good. I think we’ve all got our roles down and work really fucking well together,” I said, shielding my anxious thoughts with the positive ones. “I’ve been traded a couple times before, and it took me a bit to get in the flow of a new team, but I already feel like I’ve been playing with you guys for months.”
Dylan smiled at that. He had a rogue dimple thatdipped into his left cheek, which somehow made the boyish freckles on his nose appear even more innocent, which was ironic because out on the ice, he played like a rabid bulldog. Nothing about his aggression to score a goal read as innocent. “I think we all feel the same about you. It was pretty effortless. Obviously, just by your numbers, you were going to be an asset, but I’m glad it ain’t just about numbers with you.”
“Same here.”
I just hope you’re saying the same thing after tomorrow’s game.
The loud clink of a pool ball smacking against another came from my left. I glanced just in time to catch Gabe bending over, his jeans tight around his ass and legs.
I snatched my gaze away, focusing instead on the back of some man’s balding head. I’d been catching myself doing that a lot. Sneaking looks in Gabe’s direction. It wasn’t even like I was consciously trying to be creepy or anything. For some reason, I just found myself naturally looking in his direction.
I needed to stop that shit. I shouldn’t be ogling my own teammates—that made things messy. I also wasn’t in the headspace to be looking at other men, whether I found them insanely attractive or not. My last relationship not only ended on a terrible note, but my ex had left some invisible wounds that I continued to struggle with. Emotional hurt that still dimmed my light, and now was not the time to open myself up to more pain.
Although…
No. I’ve got to get him out of my head.
“You and Gabe are a force on the ice.”
Well, there goes my decision to not even think about the guy.
