“Goodnight.”
I watched her go.
Beau looked up at me.
I frowned down at him.
My dog offered no advice.
The apartment was dark when we got back, but I didn’t turn on the lights right away. I stood in the doorway and let my eyes adjust.
Her sketch still hung on the wall. The frames I’d purchased for her were still on the counter in the bag.
Beau trotted to his water bowl. I took the bag and left the apartment, crossing the street and taking the stairs up to her floor.
I leaned the bag against her door, realizing I’d forgotten a note. Well, I could explain if she asked.
I returned to my apartment, closed the door, and locked it. Then I sat on the couch.
Beau jumped up beside me, circling twice before settling on my lap. I scratched behind his ears, and he groaned, flopping onto his side and extending his tiny paws. His belly and chest got rubs next.
I’d kissed the coach’s daughter twice today.
I was going to do it again.
I was going to do more than that if she let me. I’d known this since the park bench. Possibly since the welcome dinner when she’d stood in a corner and talked to me.
I was not a male who lied to himself. I’d spent fourteen years playing professional hockey, being accurate about what I could and couldn’t control. My reads were good because I didn’t waste time pretending the play was developing in a way it wasn’t.
This was developing. It had been since she’d handed me a sketch and looked at me like I mattered.
I’d tried to stop it. Tried to be professional.
But it was getting harder to remember the reasons this was a bad idea.
CHAPTER NINE
HALEY
The bus smelled like coffee and the staleness of a vehicle that had been sitting for weeks, waiting for the first expedition game to arrive.
I boarded early, which meant I could claim the seat I wanted, set up my workspace, and be fully operational before anyone else had arrived. Mid-bus, aisle seat, laptop open to the scouting package I’d been refining since yesterday. The screen cast light across my hands.
This was my armor. Not the hoodie I wore in my office, though that helped. This was the real thing. A clear reason to be here that had nothing to do with who my father was or what anyone thought about me being on this bus in the first place.
Players filed on a bit later. Loud voices, personal bags slung over shoulders, the shuffle of bodies trying to fit themselves into spaces designed for people smaller than orc hockey players. Someone laughed too loud. Someone else told them to shut up. Standard team travel chaos that I’d learned to tune out years ago.
Brashe strode down the aisle and chose the empty space across from me.
“Morning.” He dropped into the seat and placed his bag on the seat beside him.
“Morning.”
He held a travel mug the size of a thermos. After taking a long drink and settling in, he pulled out his phone.
The bus continued filling. Crim took his usual spot near the front. Mikael claimed the back row with one of the other forwards. The noise level climbed steadily, voices bouncing off the narrow interior.
Tolrek boarded last. Conversations didn’t stop but the volume dropped half a notch. He moved past Brashe and took the seat directly behind mine.
