Charm on the Rocks: A Slapshot Prequel (Slapshot Prequel Trilogy Book 3)

by Heather C. Myers

Hey.

  It was from Alec. She furrowed her brow. The game had ended an hour ago. Typically, the team would either travel to the next city that night or, if they were returning back to Newport Beach, stay the night and return in the morning. This was a quick trip to Arizona, so it didn't surprise her that Alec wasn't on a plane. What did surprise her was that he was texting her at night when she knew from the other Gulls' Girls that it was common for the players to go out knowing they had a day off the next day.

  Was Alec out with his teammates? He seemed like the type who liked to go out. He was young, good looking, and had no reason to settle down. But if he was, why was he texting her? Unless he was drunk. But even so, why involve her and not some ex girlfriend - if he had ever had a serious relationship that came with exes?

  She hesitated before responding.

  Hey.

  How are you?

  She furrowed her brow. That was a quick response. If he was out, would he have responded that quickly?

  'Why do you care, anyway?' she thought to herself. 'You had an amazing date with Brady who does not seem to be a player. Also, he's in college and seems to actually know what he's talking about when it comes to literature. He's not a hockey player where everything changes so fast...'

  'Why are you even debating this?'

  Good. You?

  Good. Did you watch?

  She rolled her eyes. Of course she watched. She arranged her entire date with Brady around this game. If, and when, she went out with him on a more consistent basis, she would continue to arrange dates and college classes and phone calls back home around Gulls' games. Not only was it her job but she found she was liking them more and more than the Detroit Mustangs. Of course, she would never tell her father that. It would be akin to walking around in a tube top and mini skirt. The Mustangs had been his favorite team since he was born, and his father's before that, and his father's before that, all the way back to 1889, when they first began. It was almost like some kind of legacy. Somehow, her father had three girls and no boys. Regardless, he still raised his daughters with the Mustang Passion, as it was deemed by the franchise and fans. Claire didn't particularly care about sports at all, but Madison did and it was one of the only things she and her father agreed on. Now, though, she knew if he found out about her preference, that fragile tether that connected father and daughter would snap.

  Of course I watched. You were amazing. I wasn't expecting you to score at all, and you go on and score twice.

  He sent a blushing smile emoji. She felt her heart skip a beat, as though she was pleased that she made him feel good about himself up until the point she remembered that this would just feed his ego, and while she liked Alec and wanted to be friends, she didn't want to be used because he needed a boost.

  Why aren't you out celebrating with the guys?

  Honestly, I wasn't in the mood to go out.

  Madison held her breath as she saw the the grey ellipsis bubble indicating that he was typing something.

  Then: I was thinking about you. I wanted to see how you were.

  Madison bit her bottom lip, as though she was trying to contain a smile. For whatever reason, she felt a profile of guilt taint that smile, almost as though Brady's memory wanted to remind her that was still around and in her life. And that maybe she shouldn't be so happy that Alec was checking up on her.

  Which was silly by itself since she and Brady had only gone out on one date. There was no reason to feel some sort of loyalty for her classmate. Even if he asked her out again, that didn't automatically mean that they were exclusive. Technically, she was allowed to play the field - if she wanted. The problem was, Madison was hopeless when it came to this stuff. She got in too deep too soon and things fizzled out after a few months. She didn't want that to happen with Alec.

  BRADY.

  She meant Brady.

  Where had Alec come from?

  Probably because she was texting Alec now.

  Of course. That was it.

  She wanted to ask him why he was thinking about her. She wanted to know why he wasn't out with the guys celebrating an awesome win, especially considering he was the first star of the game. True, it was only a preseason game, but that didn't particularly mean anything. Alec had scored two goals and that was a big deal. That was worth celebrating. Yet, instead of doing that, he was in his hotel room, texting her because he was thinking about her.

  What did that even mean?

  She shook her head. She needed to get a grip. This always happened to her when she couldn't read someone and their motives, especially if the person in question was an attractive guy she just assumed was out of her league or was too arrogant for her interest, and he was paying her all of his attention. Was he playing games? Was he trying to win her over because it made for a good game and he wanted to win? Was he just trying to sleep with her? Or was there more to it? Did he want something deeper, something more meaningful?

  She thought she knew Alec but then she fixed up his cut and he told her about being raised by his step-dad. He had opened up to her and she didn't understand why. Yes, they were friends. But she hadn't realized they were at that level quite yet. That trusting. She had made no move to talk about her overbearing father and her timid mother and Claire and Olivia and everyone else or how it felt being raised in a small town.

  There was more to him than what he portrayed to the public - a cocky, attractive hockey player who had the skill to backup his arrogance. And there was a surprisingly sizable part of her that wanted to know more about that hidden side of him.

  Was that wrong, having a thing for Brady?

  The thing was, this whole thing with Brady was uncertain. As was this thing with Alec. But Alec was reaching out and talking to her and giving her attention.

  And, the truth was, Madison liked having Alec's attention. The guy was arrogant, but there was a touch of genuine consideration when he listened to her or asked her questions. He was sincere in his curiosity about her, and she found that she was drawn to him, despite her better judgment.

  Her eyes dropped to the phone. She didn't know how long she had been thinking about Alec rather than actually texting him but it must have been a while. Her eyes widened and she unlocked the screen on her outdated smartphone. She needed to respond with something; she didn't want him to think that his attention wasn't wanted.

  Because it was. Maybe she hadn't realized because Brady proved to be a good distraction, but she found she liked being around Alec. And she wanted to be around him more, if he wanted, of course. At least, she wanted the opportunity to just figure out the surge of feelings that always came up when she thought of him.

  She didn't know what to say.

  She had to say something.

  So she typed in the first thing that came to her mind: That's nice. And then she sent it.

  "What the fuck did I just do?" she asked herself, horrified by the sight of her phone before her.

  Alec responded right away. Laughing out loud with tears coming out of the eyes emoji. Then: you don't know how to do this, do you?

  Madison felt her shoulders ease and the tension leave her body. What do you expect? she asked. When you have a national hockey player say they can't stop thinking about you, it kind of throws a girl off.

  A moment, then: I'm glad to know I have that effect on you.

  Madison felt her cheeks turn pink and she rolled her blue eyes. That cocky bastard. She kind of loved it, if she was being honest.

  Go to dinner with me.

  The text came suddenly and unexpectedly. Madison's mouth suddenly went dry and she tried to swallow in order to moisten it but it didn't work. How was she supposed to respond to that? How did she WANT to respond to that?

  Alec, I'm not so sure that's a good idea, she texted him, biting her bottom lip and hating every minute of it. I could get into big trouble. I know you've done this before but I don't want to risk this job.

  I've never done this before. His text was quick and concise. Then, he added,
I've never dated a Gulls'Girl before. I've never socialized with them at all. I've dated girls and break things off with them. Then, they become Gulls' Girls to try to get me back or to stay in my business, but I promise you that I've never done this before but...

  'But?' Madison wondered to herself. 'But what?'

  But you're different and I want to know you better, he concluded. Please. One date and that's it. No one has to know.

  Alec, I don't want to waste my time with someone who doesn't want to commit to a relationship, she told him. What the hell was she doing? Why was she telling him this? It would ruin everything.

  Maybe. But it would save her a lot of time and a lot of tears if she put everything out on the table now and let things fall where they would.

  And what makes you think I don't? was his reply. Just give me a chance, Mads. Friday night, the day after the home opener, promise me you'll go out with me for a late dinner. Say you will.

  Madison pressed her lips together. She was hesitating. Why didn't she just reject him outright? What about Brady? Why was she even questioning this?

  And then, Okay.

  His response was as quick as all the others ones: Okay. Smiling face emoji. I can't wait. Good night, Madison. Sleep well.

  She couldn't bring herself to respond. Her eyes were locked on her ceiling as she tried to wrap her mind around the fact that she had agreed to one date with Alec Schumacher.

  Chapter 10

  The memorial for Ken Brown went beautifully. The walls of the first floor of the Sea Side were filled with signatures and messages to the owner and manager of the Gulls. Staff were waiting by every entrance of the 200 section, armed with Sharpies so anyone could sign the walls. There was a speech given by Seraphina and Katella that commemorated him as a person - as a hockey coach back in Ohio, as an owner and manager of the Gulls', why he started the team, how he never played hockey but loved the sport, and finally, as a grandfather. They ran over but no one dared stopped them. Even though Ken never played hockey, they retired the number twelve in honor of his birthdate.

  What was probably most surprising was that Brandon Thorpe prepared a speech as well. As suspect of Ken's murder and the recipient of showers of boos during every game following and as the man slaughtered in the media for asking for more money for playing with the Gulls' despite not making playoffs, no one expected Thorpe to say anything. In fact, as Madison watched from her position at the zamboni entrance, she was surprised any player would say something. More than that, she figured the player that would make the most sense to write a speech wouldn't be Brandon, it would have been Matt, Katella's boyfriend.

  "Good evening," Brandon said into the microphone. He looked out at the crowd, his pale green eyes not afraid to meet his criticizers. His voice was low and tainted with a light Canadian accent. Half the team was Canadian, while a quarter was American and a quarter was Swedish. "I'm here to speak on behalf of the Gulls' organization - the team, the coaching staff, everyone. I wasn't forced to do this because I'm captain, I wanted to speak because I think most of you assume I didn't like Ken or he didn't like me. That couldn't be further from the truth.

  "Ken took a chance on me when I thought my career was over. He made a ridiculous trade in order to acquire me and I've never played better than when I'm in a Gulls' sweater. I know there are a lot of rumors that said I wanted more money and that I was thinking of leaving the team. I wanted to tell you directly that those rumors were true. I asked for more money and was considering my options. This speech isn't a chance to justify my behavior or even explain it. I want you to know that I regret how I handled the situation. I came off as arrogant and flighty but I want to let you know that my loyalty to Ken, his granddaughters, and this team, is unwavering.

  "Ken was one of those guys who was older than he acted. I swear, whenever we warm up before a home game, kicking a soccer ball around or playing jacket sack, he would jump in and hold his own. He read constantly and was always talking to Henry about the latest book or an old john Wayne movie. He was a direct man, one you couldn't help but respect. He was admired by all, respected my many, but the only two people he cared about in the world were his granddaughters, Seraphina and Katella. He loved hockey, but he loved them more. We, as a team, are lucky that they have decided to keep the team in the family. We are lucky to have a GM and owner who has the passion the team needs to fuel her increasing expansion of knowledge about the sport. And finally, we are lucky that she has faith in every single one of us, even when we don't have faith in ourselves.

  "I know you and I have had a rocky start to this season," he continued. "Though I don't agree with how you handled it, I respect and even understand why you felt that way. I hope from this point forward I won't let you, Ken, or Katella and Seraphina down. Thank you."

  He stepped back and the audience proceeded to applause.

  At that point, Henry stepped forward, which caused Madison to furrow her brow. Brandon's speech was already a surprise but even that was suppose to have represented the team and the organization as a whole. What could Henry possibly say that Brandon hadn't.

  And then he said it: after this season, he was planning on retiring.

  He went on to say that this team had been his primary the past five years, that Ken had been his best friend and confidant for even longer, but that this had taught him that he needed to focus on his family and his wife should be his best friend. He only had so many years left, and while he didn't regret his time with the Gulls', this would be his last one.

  Henry's speech garnered thunderous applause. At that point, the game was about to start, the national anthem started, and the focus shifted from commemorating Ken to winning this game. The referee dropped the puck, the whistle blew, and Madison's heart jumped in her throat. She was starting to get too invested in this team, in their games, where even watching them play caused her blood pressure to rise. It wasn't even that she was nervous about scraping up the ice or being caught by her parents on television; she just wanted the Gulls' to win.

  The game was intense and fast-paced. The Gulls' played as though they were fighting for a spot in the playoffs. It was as though they felt that they needed to win this game for Ken.

  If that was their intention, they came through for Ken and his granddaughters by winning. Madison flew across the ice as she cleaned it during the quick commercial breaks. As a Gulls' Girl, she was required to smile as she skated. Typically, she would have to force it but not tonight. There was something in the air about tonight, a certain electricity that touched the air, made it tingle, made it crackle. Her smile was big, wrinkling her eyes and beaming through her entire face. The team played as a cohesive unit; it was hard not to watch them. In fact, Amanda had to push Madison out on the ice during the first break because she had been taken by the play that she had forgotten she had her own role to play during the game.

  When the game was over, the Gulls' won by a point - three to two. The defense collapsed during the third period and Thorpe let in two goals he couldn't have stopped. Matt Peterson made a lazy play, reaching for the puck rather than skating and one of the defenseman covered a Star when he should have covered his man.

  Ken Brown was awarded the first star and both Katella and Seraphina were presented with a stick as a way to commemorate him by Brandon Thorpe himself. Madison might have been imagining things, but she thought she saw his fingers linger a beat too long as he gave Seraphina the stick. Not that Seraphina minded. She had a cool look of appreciative passiveness on her face but there was something in her eyes, something that shined only when he was around. They had a thing for each other, she realized, but they had to keep things professional.

  That sucked.

  After the game, Seraphina and Katella invited everyone associated with the Gulls' organization to a party that celebrated their home opener, their win over cross-town rivals, and to celebrate Ken brown one last time. Amanda all but insisted Madison was required to make an appearance so after changing into her street cloth
es, Madison allowed her friend to lead her to the club level of the Ice Palace where loud music was thumping away and tons of people were already there. Madison felt her entire body start to thrum with excitement and her lips curled up into another smile. She might have only been wearing a long-sleeves shirt and skinny jeans, but she felt like she belonged.

  It wasn't long before Amanda pulled her onto the half-filled dance floor. The lights were low so no one could easily discern dance partners, which meant Gulls' Girls could associate with players without being caught.

  "Hey." Amanda had to shout over the music. "Is that Katella and Matt Peters? They look like they're fighting."

  Madison pressed her brows together and glanced to where Amanda pointed. She was right. Katella and Matt were in an adjacent room with closed windows. It looked like a small office, probably for any club members to go to in case they needed to discuss their ticket plan with a team member of the organization. The door was closed but it appeared as though they didn't realize they were still visible to those who happened to look towards them.

  Katella had her arms crossed over her chest and tears in her eyes that had yet to fall. She was glaring at Matt, still in his simple white t-shirt and black skinny jeans. His arms were sleeves with a variety of tattoos and his black hair was combed back. He was big and bulky, filled with muscle, but his face was gentle, the kind of face you could trust. If Madison was being honest, he reminded her of a hipster, but a handsome one, and one that had nothing to prove and didn't have to try so hard. Though she couldn't see his face, it was hard for Madison to picture Matt as angry unless he was on the ice, especially with Katella. She had always thought they were the definition of relationship goals.

  "All couples fight, Amanda," Madison said, tearing her eyes away from Katella and Matt in order to focus on the dance floor. "I'm sure it means nothing."

  Amanda opened her mouth to argue but shut it. "You're right," she said. "Let's forget about everything and just dance."

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