“You really want to do this?” Nick asks.
Looking around the bar, it seems like everyone here is coupled up, huddled together over their tables. Usually, it doesn’t bother me. Even though I’m thirty-six, I made the decision to put my career first. Now, it seems, it might not have been the best decision. Some days it feels like dating is a whole new thing for me that I’ve never done before at all.
And now I’m trying to get Nick to help me with this? Maybe I’m out of my mind, but it’s not like things can get any worse.
“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it.”
Nick holds his glass out to me in cheers. “Then I guess I’d better take you up on your offer.”
Chapter Six
NICK
Bexley
Come to my office tomorrow at seven
Nick
Why so early?
So we can talk before practice
Is that a good idea?
Why? Think you’ll be all jumbled for practice?
No.
Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Seven sharp. Don’t keep me waiting, Nick.
Don’t keep me waiting, Nick.
It’s the singular thought propelling me forward toward the executive suites the following morning.
I must be crazy to agree to this plan. Having the GM of the team give me dating lessons? And helping her in return?
I’ve lost my mind.
But after the disaster of a date last week, I need help. When the guys asked how it went, I played it off like it didn’t work out between the two of us. I don’t need the grief from them. Or them to think I’m some virgin who’s never dated before.
The one good thing about Bexley is that she’ll be discreet. I know she won’t go blabbing everything to everyone she knows.
The glass doors to the C-suites show no one has arrived yet. I’m early, the clock not quite ticking toward seven. The lights are off as computers cast their glow through the empty space. Pictures of the team line the walls as I make my way toward the only office with a light on.
The quiet knock echoes through the empty space.
“Come in.”
As I peek my head in the door, Bexley gives me a warm smile. Her office is a direct contrast to her. The woman walks into a room and demands power and attention. Her office? Everything is soft. Warm grays and pinks. A soft white rug under my old black sneakers. Natural wood desk and bookshelves. Awards bestowed upon the team throughout the years grace the shelves. The windows behind her are dark. I know they look out onto the ice where we practice.
“Hey.”
I shove my hands in the pocket of my Black Diamonds hoodie, not quite knowing what to do with them.
Bexley stands, coming around the desk. She’s shorter today—not in her usual standard-issue uniform of a skirt and heels. Instead, she’s in tight black pants and an oversized cream sweater.
Her dark hair flows around her shoulders. It looks so soft that I want to reach out and touch it.
