What can you do to clean up your mistakes?
What did you think of that blocked shot that Hollins had in the third period?
Do you like your chances to make the playoffs?
Is it because there’s a woman at the helm of the team?
I answerevery question with short, rote answers. This is one of the things I hate most about my job. Being in the spotlight.
All I want to do is play hockey. Everything else that goes with it? I’m not a fan. But I put on the best face I can in light of the loss and answer their questions. No matter how stupid they are. Especially that last one.
We’ll study film tomorrow and work on what we can to ensure we have a better game next time.
It’s the way of the game. Not every shot is going to go in, no matter how good you think they are.
It’s still early, and the Black Diamonds are in a good position to make the post season again.
I haveto keep my cool because what else can I say? It’s not Bexley’s fault we lost. The better team won the game. It has nothing to do with the fact that a woman is our GM. Fucking asshole.
By the time I get settled onto the bus, we’re only waiting on a few more guys to finish up their interviews before we leave.
“That was a good game, Nick,” Bex tells me as she passes by me. “Don’t let them get in your head.”
I nod in acknowledgment to her and peer over my shoulder as she heads to her customary seat at the back of the bus. She likes it there—less noisy, she once said, away from the guys.
I wish she could sit by me. Tell me that again to help push this loss out of my head. Damn. Bex is someone I’m quickly becoming addicted to.
I shouldn’t be. Maybe if I keep telling myself that this thing will fizzle out, it’ll help soften the blow. But when I peek back again, her eyes are on me, shooting me a wink.
I don’t think this thing is going to fizzle out anytime soon.
Chapter Fifteen
NICK
Ibuckle my seatbelt as soon as I board the plane. All I want to do is get home, cuddle with Oreo, and sleep in my own bed. That’s the hardest part of these long road trips. Being away from home.
“Don’t take it too hard, Nicky.” Coach Barney bumps me on the shoulder as he walks by on his way to his seat. “Carolina played hard tonight.”
“I know.”
Even if I hate it.
I’m in my own little bubble on the plane, taking up an entire row to myself. I don’t want to have others give me platitudes about how I’ll brush it off and win the next one.
Carolina was the better team tonight, plain and simple. It doesn’t make the sting lessen.
The plane takes off and levels to cruising altitude.
The mood is depressing as fuck. After a win, the team is always ready to play cards or video games together, but now everyone’s sitting and sulking in their own seats.
My eyes glaze over as I stare at the twinkling lights below us. I’m replaying every shot on goal that the opposing team hadtonight. I know losses are never the result of one person, but as the goalie, it weighs on me.
I’m the final line between the other team getting the biscuit in the back of the net. I hate it.
“Mind if I sit?”
My gaze snaps to the person now standing at the end of my row.
