Exes and Goals: A Slapshot Novel (Slapshot Series Book 1)

by Heather C. Myers

  She didn't love him anymore but she wasn't over him. He still controlled her in this way and she wanted to end it, she wanted to get her life back so if she saw him on the street, she could walk past him with her shoulders back, her head held high, and not even blink.

  Harper let out a shaky breath and forced herself to stand. She wanted to change this about herself. She didn't know how to overcome this but she would. Somehow. Especially with Bryan knowing where she lived and forcing his way back into her life.

  For now, she would focus on her new job. Hockey. Her grandmother. Bryan wouldn't even enter her thoughts at all.

  Before she went to her bedroom, Harper checked the door and the windows one last time to ensure Bryan couldn't get to her in any way possible.

  Chapter 6

  It was a few more weeks of practices and blog posts about how the team was slowly coming together and becoming one cohesive unit until the first exhibition game at the Sea Side Ice Palace. These games were fun and interactive with the fans where many of the skilled players would work in various jobs throughout the Palace in order to act on a more personal level with the fans. This way, the rookies and new players had a chance to play NHL hockey as well as show off their skill in hopes to make the team. A lot of fans paid decent money to attend these games in order to see their favorite players play but there was risk in putting top players in practice games - injury and fights sometimes broke out among especially competitive rookies vying for roster spots who wanted to prove just how dedicated they were by going after skilled players. As such, many teams throughout the NHL chose to sit their top players for a couple of exhibition games intermittently.

  Harper was actually looking forward to the game. Seraphina offered her and her grandmother tickets in their two-hundred level suite - the closest suites to the glass on the first level of the Palace, but Harper politely declined. She preferred being up close and personal and when Seraphina found out, she forced Harper to take two glass seats at center ice with unlimited access to the different food vendors the Ice Palace hosted.

  When Harper told her grandmother, Terrie Immings let out a whoop of excitement and asked if there were any part time jobs available for her, mentioning things like towel girl, water girl, or locker room girl. What locker room girl was, Harper did not want to know.

  Bryan had not made another impromptu appearance at her home, something Harper was grateful for. In fact, she had reached a point where every little noise did not cause her to immediately look to the door, flinching as she did so. She shouldn't be uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home and she hated that she was. Maybe she should heed her grandmother's advice and seek a psychologist, something to try not to be afraid of him. Her fear only gave him power and she did not want to do that anymore. She already wasted a year and a half of being with him and a year being without him. She was ready to move on.

  Which was probably why she threw herself into her writing. For the most part, Harper wrote her blogs in her office. They typically took her thirty to sixty minutes and another hour for editing and uploading. She had to justify the next six hours of remaining time in her office so she started listening to audiobooks and working out. When Seraphina found out, she had cardio machines delivered to her office, no questions asked.

  The players rarely stopped by even though she stayed on the off-chance they wanted to discuss anything with her. She always made sure to let them know her door was always open, especially if they had a story idea to pitch. She wrote almost daily but her most popular article was on Zachary Ryan. She had over three hundred comments and counting. Because she kept up with them when they first began, it was easy to maintain a discussion with anyone who posed questions or had differing opinions or points to make.

  Now, if she wanted to keep writing, she couldn't answer everyone, especially when half of them were puck princesses asking for details about Zachary Ryan's love life. Harper couldn't help but roll her eyes but at the same time, she understood the curiosity. Were the rumors true? Had he slept with his teammate's wife? Was that why Toronto was so quick to get rid of him? They were questions she wanted to ask, questions she knew were none of her business.

  The game wasn't crowded at all and Seraphina kept her promise by getting glass seats for she and her grandmother. The seats were just right of center, close to where the net the Gulls would defend twice. When the puck was on the opposite side of the ice, they would have to lean forward in order to see but because there was nothing in their way inhibiting them, that wasn't be too much of a problem. They got there a half hour before the game because Terrie liked to watch them warm up, hooting and hollering in her blue and white striped Gulls beanie. If Harper was being honest, she thought her grandmother might be a bigger fan than she was, which was saying a lot.

  "What number is Zachary Ryan?" she asked her granddaughter, leaning closer to Harper but mewing her eyes on the players.

  "15," Harper said. "His number in Toronto was 51 but because that was Stevenson's before he retired, he decided to invert the numbers out of respect."

  "But they didn't retire Stevenson's number," Terrie said, quirking a brow. "He didn't have to give up his number?"

  Harper shook her head. "As far as I know, no," she said.

  The warmup was typical - the players skated around their half of the ice, stretching, stick handling, warming up. A few were known to interact with fans, dispensing picks to kids with big posters showing love to their favorite players. Most of the girls were dressed accordingly for the cold environment but there were a few with short skirts and tank tops, trying to get the attention of at least one of the players. Harper was pleased to see they were all focused on their game and not looking for any distraction. Hopefully, that focus translated into a good game.

  Surprisingly enough, the majority of the skilled players were on the ice while the majority of the prospects and rookies were working in the food stands or at the club level of the Ice Palace. Traditionally, exhibition games allowed the rookies and prospects to show off their skill, give them a chance to play national level hockey as well as allow them to try out for the team. If Harper had to speculate, Cherney wanted to give his players as many opportunities to develop chemistry as possible before the season began. As long as his players weren't overworked, it was a good strategy.

  "How do you think we're going to do?" Terrie asked after the national anthem. She had to shout over the music, the announcer outlining the game and the opponents. When Harper shrugged, she elbowed her granddaughter. "You've been watching them practice, girl. I want your professional take!"

  "Honestly," Harper said, turning from the ice so she could look at her grandmother, "I think it could go either way. The talent is there, they just have to find the chemistry and they're not going to do that in practice. I mean, it's built there, of course. But a game and practice are two separate beasts, and chemistry, for the most part, doesn't happen overnight." She shrugged her shoulders. "That's my professional take on it."

  "We have a lot of players," Terrie pointed out.

  "We do," Harper acknowledged with a nod. "Absolutely we do. But those players are good individually, although I suppose you could argue Ryan got his stats from his passing and you need wingers to receive a pass in order to get those stats. But we need the players to be good together. We need a good team rather than simply have a bunch of good players. I also think Cherney is one hell of a coach, so if anyone can get this team to where it could be, it's him."

  The large overhead big screen television had a clock counting down until zero - the start of the game. The two linesmen and the two referees (differentiated by an orange armband) skated out at the two-minute mark. Even though it was the first practice game, some of the spectators still booed, due to the antagonistic relationship the Gulls had had with the refs. Because they had been a chippy team - and especially with the acclamation of Alexander Vane - they had a reputation they couldn't defend nor could they change. As such, calls tended to go against them or legitima
te penalties on them weren't called at all. After the refs, the challenging team, the San Francisco Prisoners, skated out to louder boos. Finally, the lights got dark and the announcer enthusiastically announced the Gulls. Harper and her grandmother got to their feet, clapping and cheering.

  After circling their half of the ice, the only players that didn't go to the bench was the starting line - consisting of center Zachary Ryan, left winger Kyle Underwood, and right winger Alec Schumacher. The two defensive players were rookie eighteen-year-old Erik Karlsson and twenty-four-year old Edward Sheen. Finally, the goalie was Brandon Thorpe, captain of the team and Vezina nominee last year, despite their lackluster season.

  "Must be their first line," Harper murmured to herself. Which would make sense since the Prisoners were one of the Gulls' rivals.

  Because the Gulls' were home, Cherney had the opportunity to switch his lines up right before the refs blew the whistle to start the game after any breakages. If this was the first line, it would follow that the Prisoners' first line was also out, but unlike the Gulls', the majority of their veteran players were sitting this game out. They were probably up in the media booth, donning suits and watching from there.

  The game wasn't as fast paced as hockey games usually tended to be. There was chemistry between Zach and Kyle, which was both surprising and not - both were extremely talented players and putting them together seemed to be the logical choice, one any coach would have made in Cherney's position. However, what was surprising was the way the two immediately clicked, like they were brothers from different wombs.

  Kyle was one of the few players still on the team that came from Henry Wayne's era. Harper didn't know much about him other than the fact that he was a consistent, thirty goals a season player who dated Emma Winsor, a recent UCI grad who majored in dance. He was a quiet player so it was difficult to tell how the breakup was affecting his play but judging by the way he moved around the ice, it appeared as though he had a good handle on keeping his personal and professional life separate. Kyle did have an antagonistic reputation, however. She knew if he was on any other team, she would absolutely detest him. He was gritty and wasn't afraid to get on the crease to catch a rebound or get a dirty goal. He was also one of the few skilled players who wasn't afraid to respond to a challenge if someone wanted to fight. Unless, of course, the other team was purposefully trying to get him off the ice.

  It was a surprisingly chippy first period. A lot of the prospects were trying to earn their stripes, stepping up to defend the skilled players when they took offense to a late hit or a snide remark. They wanted to do everything they could to guarantee them a roster spot. The majority of the prospects would be sent down to the minor league, which was conveniently located in San Diego, but there were a few standout players that Harper knew Cherney had his eye on, including a nineteen-year old goal tender they signed last year. He was regarded as a steal during the second round during the draft. In fact, there were whispers that the kid - an American by the name of Jimmy Stafford - could replace Brandon Thorpe as starting goalie in as little as two years, depending on the conditioning he received. Harper thought that was a little too presumptuous right now since he still had yet to play his first NHL game but he was definitely one of those players to keep an eye on.

  The rest of the game was much like the first period - quick and chippy. Thorpe started the game but, for some reason, was giving up soft goals - goals he, as a professional NHL goaltender, should have had no problem stopping. Like all exhibition games, it was high scoring and not as intense as it would have been during the season. But it was still exciting to watch.

  Harper was pleased to see that Zachary Ryan's reputation preceded him. He was an excellent center, winning fifty-four percent of his faceoffs, making key, crisp passes, and possessing one of the strongest shots on the team - when he used it. That was his biggest problems - the fact that he didn't shoot as much as he should have, especially since he had a few opportunities where he probably would have scored. Instead, he chose to pass. But it was something that could be improved.

  The Gulls lost their first exhibition game by a goal - four to five. But they were a much better team than last year's Gulls had ever been.

  There was hope. That was all that mattered.

  Chapter 7

  It was just after midnight, a couple hours after the game ended, when Harper's cell phone started blasting Miranda Lambert. She cracked open one eye and glared as best as she could. It wasn't a number she had in her cell phone but the 949 area code immediately ruled out Bryan so she answered it, just in case it had to do with her grandmother.

  "Hello?" Her voice came out groggy and incomprehensible.

  "Harper?" a familiar voice responded, loud and full of life. There was noise in the background that made the caller shout. "Is that you? Are you there? It's Kat. Katella, from work."

  "Oh." Harper felt herself relax, knowing that her grandmother was okay. She sat in bed and leaned back against the wall, stifling a yawn as best as she could. "Hi. What's up?"

  "Were you sleeping?" Katella asked on the other end. "Oh my God, Harper I am so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you. I just, I'm a little drunk and I needed to talk to someone and I didn't know who else to call. I can't talk to Seraphina about it because she's the cause but, um..." She let her voice trail off and Harper couldn't help but musing that for someone who was tipsy, she didn't slur her words very much. "I guess I just needed someone. But I'll let you go. I'm sorry, I'm being selfish and totally not the twenty-seven-year old I'm supposed to be."

  "No, no." Harper rubbed her face with her palm, trying to wake herself up. "It's fine. What's up?"

  "Did you hear about Peters training with us?" she asked. Her voice had a slight screech to it but that was probably the alcohol. "Yeah, no one picked up his sorry ass before the trade deadline and now he's going to condition with the team and try and make it with us again. That fucker. His flight came in just before the game and he had the audacity to grab a last minute ticket. Can you believe him?"

  Harper had to press her lips together to keep from laughing. The situation wasn't funny, of course, but Katella seemed to be a funny albeit slightly dramatic drunk, which was incredibly amusing.

  "How can I help you?" Harper asked because, really, she had no idea what to say.

  "Well, um..." Katella let her voice trail off and Harper was ready to throw her phone across the room. She had always been particular about her sleep; in all honesty, she had no idea how people were able to stay up late and wake up early. Sleep was an integral part of her routine and as much as she cared about Katella, Katella was interrupting that routine. "Can you come get me? I came here with Vane but I don't want to make him leave and I definitely don't want him to know I'm leaving because I don't want to deal with Peters, you know? I would call Seraphina but I know she has an early morning and I'm sure you do too and I'm so sorry but... I just didn't know who else to call."

  Harper felt her stomach clench. "You're at Taboo?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair.

  There was a muffled sound, and somehow, Harper knew Katella was nodding. "Oh," she said, her words slurred. "You can't see me. Yes, I'm here. I think I want to go home. I don't think I want to do this anymore, Harper. Can you help me?"

  Harper shook her head to herself, inhaling sharply as silently as she could. "As best as I can," she said. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

  Katella started gushing about how nice and sweet Harper was but Harper hung up, deciding she wouldn't know the difference. She forced herself out of bed and grabbed a shirt off of her desk chair - a plaid shirt that brought out the green in her eyes - and a pair of jeans from the floor. She threw on a jacket and a pair of old sneakers and instead of brushing her hair, she chose to tie it up into a messy bun instead. She left without even putting on makeup because her intention was definitely not to stay. She wanted to be back in bed as fast as she could.

  The drive to Taboo was quick and easy. Since it was so late, she
got there in less than ten minutes. Parking took her another five minutes but she managed to find a spot close to the entrance so she wouldn't have to worry about being a female walking around by herself in the middle of the night outside a nightclub. Surprisingly enough, there wasn't that much of a line and the bouncer must have recognized her from before because he waved her right in without making her pay a cover fee or giving her a hard time about her attire.

  It was a tad more intimidating to enter a nightclub by herself but she swallowed her fear and tilted her chin up, completely ignoring the club's patrons giving her amused looks due to her attire. Perhaps she should have thrown on a dress and a cute pair of flats. It definitely would have made her feel more comfortable.

  Harper decided she would head to the VIP section from before in hopes that that was where she would find Katella. When she saw the familiar head of blonde hair, a sweep of relief pushed through her body, only to be eliminated when she realized half the team was here as well.

  "Shit," she muttered to herself.

  "Harper!" a drunk enough Katella exclaimed, dashing over to her in high heels and somehow not toppling over due to her clear inebriation. Katella had a talent some women would kill for. "You came!"

  When she reached Harper, she threw her arms around her and pulled her close. Harper could smell the strong scent of expensive alcohol permeating her breath, along with something artificially sweet. She felt completely awkward, standing next to Katella - who, besides a pair of heels, wore a mini dress and professional makeup - made her feel like an ugly duckling. Not in the sense that she lacked confidence in her looks, only that Harper felt out of place and insecure about how she appeared right now.