“No.”
“Want to come with me?”
Finley considers it before shaking her head. “No. Team dinners are for the team.”
“And you’re not part of the team?”
“I am, but also, I’m not.”
“Sounds tough,” I say, truly meaning my words. Being Finley sounds hard. The pressure of being the first female head coach is nothing compared to the pressure she puts on herself. And she’s right. She’s not a part of the team. But she alsoispart of the team. “Do you and the other coaches ever do dinners?”
“We eat together when we’re on the road,” she replies, her head tilted slightly. “Sometimes when we’re working late, we’ll call in food. So we end up eating together at least a couple of times a week. But, no. We don’t go out to a restaurant or each other’s houses.”
“Not really friends?” I ask, sitting down to pull on my shoes.
“Rob is almost a father figure to me, if that makes any sense. He’s the only one I talk to about anything remotely personal. Sutton and I have worked together since I came to the Yeti, so we’re work friends. Nyquist is, well, Nyquist. Goalie coaches are just as isolated as goalies tend to be. And Shaw… wants my job. He’s never hidden the fact he’s waiting in the wings for me to fail. He’s a great coach, but not a candidate for friendship.”
I place my elbows on my knees, not interested in ending our conversation, even though I’m done changing. “Do you use an application process to sort through all your friend candidates?” I ask.
“Oh yes. It’s very rigorous. Double blind and everything. Cuts down on bias.”
“I’d expect no less from you. I can’t imagine when you find the time to sort through the hundreds of applications you must get each week.”
A wistful smile crosses Finley’s face. “I think Charlotte is the only one who has ever stuck around long enough to make it through the process. And I’m pretty sure that’s because she’s too stubborn to quit.”
“I’d be interested in applying, you know,” I say solemnly. “If you should ever open the pool again.”
Finley blinks slowly. Once. Twice. “I… I, unfortunately, can’t accept applications from players.”
“Maybe in a few years, then.” I slowly get to my feet.
Finley’s eyes flash with interest as she watches me stand, but I hide the slight pain in my hip well because she doesn’t say anything as I make my way past her.
“I’m going to miss spending time with you when the Challenge is over,” I admit softly.
I rub my chest gently to try to dispel the ache at the thought of not spending time with this interesting, intelligent woman. Of knowing she’s just across the hall but might as well be miles away.
“Me, too,” she replies, almost so quiet I don’t hear it.
But I do.
Chapter 21
Finley
“You’vebeensuchwonderfulsports about all of this, and, as of our game last night, we’ve increased attendance by over twenty percent. I’m so appreciative of all the participants and the PR team for making this happen,” Mr. Peterson announces from his place at the front of the room. “And a special thank-you to the social media team, who have been working on overdrive since February, producing content and handling the increase in activity on our accounts. Sabrina, I’ll hand it over to you to tell us what today’s event looks like.”
We’re back in our practice facility for this one; the players’ lounge has been reconfigured to have six pairs of seats spread in a semicircle in the middle of the room.
“Thanks, Ken,” Sabrina says, taking the microphone from Mr. Peterson. “Today’s event is a Yeti-tastic version ofThe Newlywed Game! You might not be real couples, but, heck, you spend more time together than you spend with your actual spouses.”
She pauses for laughter, but no one seems to think it’s that funny. It’s not untrue, but the married guys don’t like to be reminded of the fact they’re closer to their teammates than they are to the loves of their lives. Or, at least, they spend way more time with them.
J.D. is glaring at the head of PR, the angriest I’ve ever seen the team captain, but Rob gives him a consoling pat on the arm. Larsen takes the opportunity to plant a wet kiss on Li’s cheek, giving a saucy wink to the phone that was shoved in his face to capture the moment. The social media team can’t get enough of that guy. Hedoeshave a knack for forcing his way into your heart.
“Anyway,” Sabrina continues. “We’ll ask a question, and one person from each pair will write down what they think their partner will answer on the dry-erase board. After the answers are locked in, the other partner will reveal their answer out loud. Points are awarded based on how well the answers match! So, decide who will write the answers first for your team. Have those people sit in the seat with the boards on them. Other partners, you’ll be in the chairs across from them.”
“Want to write first?” Beckett asks, his arm brushing against mine just enough to send a shockwave of adrenaline through me.
