Page 18 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

Eventually, I get dragged into a conversation with Linc and Rett about an endorsement deal Linc’s agent has mentioned. I try to focus and make the right noises, I really do, but I’m finding it hard to think about my friend's career when my own is in the toilet.

I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like a million hours, especially since my second beer has already been long forgotten, when Linc grunts an “Excuse me,” and gives me little choice but to let him out of the booth.

One glance to my left tells me why he’s so keen to escape. His girl just walked in with Hailee hot on her tail.

I scan the booth and watch as Hayden practically hops over the table to get to Hailee.

Shaking my head at both of them, I don’t bother sitting back down and instead take myself to the bathroom, wondering if any of them would notice if I called a rideshare and fucked off.

Problem is, they would. Those guys out there aren’t just my teammates; they’re my best friends as well. But their focus right now needs to be on the game. They don’t need to worry about me.

I take longer than necessary in the bathroom, hoping to clear my head, but it’s pointless—because while I might get a little space, I find a guy in there who’s more than happy to talk about the game. He clearly has no ability to read body language, because mine is screaming “Fuck off,” but still, he continues to chatter as if we’re best friends. Have I met him before? Fuck knows. Maybe. I meet a lot of people.

When I finally get to leave, I bump straight into a woman who looks way too happy to see me.

Again, could have met her before. There’s every chance I’ve fucked her. But just like all the others, once we’re done, they’re forgotten. It sounds harsh, I’m aware of that, but it’s how it has to be. I can’t spend my days obsessing over a woman. I need to keep my head in the game. Or at least, I used to. But as good a distraction as a night with a woman might be right now, I refuse to half-ass my performance. Maybe in a few months, when I’ve got a little more strength back.

Fuck. A few months of nothing but me and my right hand sounds like hell. But letting a woman leave knowing I didn’t give her my best…that’ll be worse.

If you’re not going to give one hundred percent, what’s the point of turning up?

I hear my bantam team coach’s voice as clearly in my head as if he’s standing beside me.

He’s the first person who believed in me. He was the one who pushed me harder than I’ve ever been pushed. He showed me exactly what it would take to make my dream come true, and he never once let up. It didn’t matter how early practice was, how exhausted I was, how much stress I was under; he taught me that showing up, that giving it your all, was always worth it.

I owe that man everything. He’s the reason I’m here now. My confidence, my self-belief—if often lacking—is thanks to him.

“Hey, baby,” the woman purrs as she steps in front of me, her hands landing on my chest, dragging me firmly back to the present. “I miss seeing you out on the ice.” She bats her eyelashes at me and I grunt in response, my eyes lifting in search of a different woman.

I find Sienna almost instantly. She’s out of the booth now, standing at the bar with Bea, Rett, Hailee, and Hayden. She’s wiggling her hips in time to the music while waving her drink around in front of her. She’s got a soft smile playing on her lips, and she looks like she’s in her own world. But the one person who isn’t anywhere near her is her date.

As the woman in front of me continues talking, I search for the guy.

My eyes widen when I find him at the other side of the bar with Darcy. They look innocent enough as they laugh at something one of them said, but they’re standing a little closer than I would deem normal between two guys.

“What do you say?” I’m vaguely aware of the question, but I still don’t look down at the woman. “Killer?” Finally, I find her eyes. “I said, my apartment is only ten minutes from here.”

“That’s great for you. Short walk home at the end of the night.” I twist away from her the best I can and move through the crowd that’s doubled over the last few hours.

I keep my eyes on Sienna as I approach the bar, wondering if she’s aware that her date is flirting with my trainer. If she does know, she doesn’t seem to care.

I intend to go to the opposite side of the bar, so I can watch her from a distance.

No—I mean, so I can put her out of my vision and my head and attempt to actually enjoy a couple of minutes of tonight.

But it seems that my legs don’t follow that plan.

“Hey, how’s the knee holding up?” she asks the second I come to a stop beside her.

Much like with the woman by the bathroom, I grunt in response.

Smooth, man. Perfect way to help remind her who you are.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek. The pain of that is almost as much as the knowledge that she doesn’t remember. It’s a really fucking harsh reality check that the one girl who made a real impact on me all those years ago has completely forgotten about it, and even standing before her right now, there’s no flicker of recognition at all.

Sure, I’ve changed quite a bit since then, but I recognized her the second I laid eyes on her, and she’s changed too. Gotten taller and significantly hotter.

Fuck. I knew she was out of my league that summer. And even now that I’m an all-star NHL player, she’s still on an entirely different level from me.