The Game Changer : Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 8

by Samantha Lind

  “It’s me,” I say when Jill answers the buzzer for her building.

  I head upstairs, two bags of food in my hands.

  “Hey,” she greets me, already standing at her condo door. She leans up, pressing a kiss to my lips. “God, I’m starving and that smells amazing,” she says when she pulls back.

  We both step into her place, and I head for the kitchen to set the bags down. I get to work pulling out two plates, along with silverware, before setting the food out on the bar for us to both dig in to.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” she asks from behind me.

  “I’ll just take some water. My head is still a little foggy from earlier,” I tell her.

  She grabs two glasses, filling them both with ice and water before joining me at the bar.

  “So, besides worrying about me, how was your day?” I ask, filling a tortilla with the fajita mix.

  “Busy, I had a full patient load. Worked right through lunch with coming in a little late because of Walter’s appointment.”

  “Makes sense why you’re so hungry tonight,” I tease her.

  “Hey now. I only had time for a granola bar and some coffee, so excuse me if I eat my weight in these amazing fajitas,” she says as she takes a huge bite.

  We fall into a comfortable silence as we both eat our way through the food in front of us. Once we’ve both polished off everything, I grab the dishes and start cleaning up.

  “You want to curl up and watch something on the couch?” Jill asks once we’ve got everything loaded into the dishwasher.

  “Whatever you want to do, babe,” I tell her. We take a seat on the couch, and she flips on the TV.

  “I’ve heard good things about the show Yellowstone, want to give that a try?”

  “Sure,” I agree as we get situated on the couch together, her back to my front as we lay down along the entire length. I slide my left hand along her torso, resting it on her abdomen. “Mark and Beckett want me to stop by the rink tomorrow and see the guys,” I tell her as she pulls up the show on demand.

  “Oh yeah?” she asks.

  “Mark asked if I’d mentor some new rookie that just got called up. Said he’s pretty green and needs some guidance from someone who’s got experience.”

  “Ah, are you going to do it?”

  “I don’t know, I guess it doesn’t hurt to stop by and meet the kid. I don’t know why one of the guys in the locker room isn’t taking him under their wing and showing him the ropes. I can only do so much from the sidelines. It’s not like I can travel with them when they hit the road, or be there every practice to give him pointers.”

  “No, but having someone he can call or text and confide in that isn’t fully connected to the coaching staff anymore might be a good thing for him, and I’m sure that someone will help him out when you aren’t there. It’s not like they’re going to let the wolves eat him alive.”

  “No, but they also won’t keep the bunnies from seducing him.” I chuckle as I bury my nose in Jill’s neck.

  “Eww.” She shudders. “I really hate that term and the thought of them.”

  “Just a part of every sport, babe. Some women are desperate.”

  “And the men are more than willing to partake,” she states.

  “That we are, well, some of us are.”

  “I’m so glad that you weren’t really into that scene,” she says as she sets the remote on the side table and rolls in my arms so she’s facing me now. “I love you,” Jill says as she presses her lips to mine.

  “I love you, too,” I tell her as I push a lock of hair out of her face and behind her ear. “I’m sorry about today. It wasn’t my intention to scare you like I did. My meds just tend to knock me out, which apparently, my body needed.”

  “It’s okay. As soon as your name popped up on my screen, I let out a huge breath. I just didn’t know what was going on and was worried that something had happened to you. I’m sorry if I overreacted by calling your friends to go check on you.”

  “It’s okay, babe, I would have done the same if our positions were reversed.” Jill slides an arm around my torso, as she rests her head on my chest. I tighten my own arms around her as we both just lay here together, breathing one another in.

  “Are you sleeping?” I ask about twenty minutes later. We’ve been still, just holding one another.

  “No, just enjoying your warmth and the sound of your heart beating in my ear,” she says before shifting to look up at me.

  I press my lips against hers, the kiss starting slow and innocent. We both hold on to one another as we lazily deepen the kiss until we’re fully making out on the couch like two teenagers. I know she hasn’t been feeling well the last day or two with it being her time of the month, so I don’t press to move things any further than they already are.

  “Shall we watch the show or go to bed?” she asks once we finally break apart.

  “I’m open to either,” I tell her, resting my forehead against hers. I press a quick kiss to her lips before she rolls again, pressing her back against my front. We adjust ourselves until we’re both back into the comfortable position we started out in.

  “You actually made it,” Mark greets me as I enter the players area of the practice facility. It didn’t take much to get in, seeing as I played for the Eagles for over ten years.

  “I did. I wasn’t going to leave you hanging,” I tell him, accepting his handshake.

  “Let me introduce you to the new kid,” he says, leading the way into the locker room.

  Most teams are very protective of their locker rooms, the Eagles being no different, so knowing that I’m still welcome past the doors means a lot to me. Not everyone who’s played for this team would get the same reception walking through the doors.

  “Hey, rookie!” Mark calls out once we’re past the doors.

  “Yes, captain,” the kid calls back as he walks over to us. His eyes widen slightly when he sees me. Damn, this kid is green.

  “Dylan, I’d like to introduce you to Johnathan Camps. You might have heard of him before,” Mark introduces us.

  “Mr. Camps, it is so nice to meet you,” he excitedly greets me.

  “Call me JC or John, none of that Mr. Camps shit,” I tell him. “I might be retired, but I’m not that damn old,” I tease him.

  “Of course, mister—I mean, JC.” He almost lets it slip again.

  “What’s your nickname, kid? I know it isn’t rookie, even if all these assholes insist on calling you that this season,” I tell him, pointing around at everyone in the locker room.

  “Soupy,” he tells me.

  “Soupy? How the hell did you get that one?”

  “Last name is Campbell; you know, like the soup company. Campbell’s Soup, so soupy it was,” he tells me.

  “Got it. I played with a kid in my youth days with the same last name and he got called the same thing now that you say that.”

  “I’ve met a few others and the same with all of us. Just comes with the last name, I guess.” He chuckles.

  “What position do you play?” I ask.

  “Left wing, sir.”

  “Same as I did. No wonder Mark asked me to come in,” I muse. “How are you at face offs?” I ask.

  “Okay, I could always be better at them, but I’m not horrible,” he admits, and I’m impressed that he isn’t trying to up-play his abilities like many rookies would.

  “Hearing you say that tells me you’ll go far in this league. How old are you, Soupy?” I ask, using his actual nickname and not the rookie one the guys have taken to calling him.

  “Nineteen, I’ll be twenty next month.”

  “Damn, you are a young one.”

  “Yes, sir,” he agrees with me.

  “We can’t even take you out and get you drunk legally yet,” I muse. “So, tell me your story, Soupy.”

  “Not much to tell, started playing at five, excelled quickly. Played juniors, drafted last year, was invited to camp for the AHL and made the team, got
the call up last week to come play here in Indy,” he tells me quickly.

  “Where are you from, kid?” I ask.

  “Western Massachusetts,” he replies.

  “What do you want out of this?” I ask, circling my finger around the room.

  “To play hockey for as long as possible. It has always been my dream to play at this level. I’m willing to put in the work, keep out of trouble, and make my mom proud.”

  “That’s good to hear, kid. You keep your head held high, keep out of trouble and keep yourself healthy, you should go far in this league and this is one fine team to do it with. I don’t regret signing with them one bit when I did. We took a mutual chance on each other and it paid off well for all involved. Look, Soupy, I’m not going to tell you that this is an easy job. It has its ups and downs, but if you want some pointers from an old man, I’ll give you my number and we can catch up when you’re in town.”

  “Thank you so much, JC. I grew up idolizing your style of play, so getting to stand here and talk to you is really throwing me for a loop.”

  “I’m just like you, kid. I put my pants on one leg at a time. Just promise me you won’t let these assholes corrupt you. You’ve got a girl back home?” I ask.

  “Yes, we’ve been together since our freshman year of high school, she’s away in California for college.”

  “If she means anything to you, and I’m sure she does if you’ve been together for so long, don’t fall for the bunnies’ attention. They can smell rookies out a mile away. They’ll try and dig their claws in and won’t let go. The temptation can be real, but it isn’t worth it.”

  “I’ve already dealt with some of that last season down in the AHL, but thanks for the words of advice.”

  “Anytime, kid,” I tell him as I clap him on the back. “Here’s my number, text me anytime. When you guys get back from your road trip, we can grab some lunch.”

  “Yes, thank you,” he says, punching my number into his phone. “I’ll send you a text now so that you have my number, as well.”

  I hear my phone chime in my pocket, and I pull it out just to verify that it was a text from him and not Jill randomly at the same time. “Got it, Soupy. Don’t let these guys give you too much shit,” I remind him, slapping his back one more time. The kid is a little scrappy. He still needs to grow into his body, which will come with time. Mark and Beckett weren’t joking when they said he was still wet behind the ears.

  “I’ll see y’all later!” I call out to the locker room.

  “You headed up to talk to Murph?” Mark asks.

  “Yep, I wanted to run some ideas past him.”

  “Sounds good, you coming to the game tonight?”

  “Maybe. I’ll see how Jill feels after she’s off work. She’s had a rough week, we might just call it an early night again.”

  “Sounds good, man, see you when we see you,” he says as I exit the room.

  I make my way up to the team’s offices. I’ve walked these halls countless times and walking them now is bittersweet.

  I reach Richard’s office and rap my knuckles along the open door frame. He looks up from his desk, giving me a big smile as he realizes I’m standing at his open door.

  “Hey, man, come on in. What dragged you in today?” he asks.

  “Mark asked me to stop by, talk to the new kid, maybe mentor him some.”

  “Ah, yeah, Soupy. He’s pretty young.”

  “Yeah he is, he must be good to get called up though.”

  “He is. Led the team last year in goals, he’s got one hell of a shot and can skate faster than I’ve seen guys skate in a long-ass time. He’s a little small still, but if he hits the gym, he’ll fill out and be more lethal out there on the ice. I’m just glad he’s on our team.” Mark chuckles.

  “I guess so,” I muse. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you a bit about possibly helping me with starting a program. I don’t know that I’m ready to fully start a foundation or anything, but I’d like to do something to help guys in the league who have already suffered from one, maybe two, minor concussions, maybe target those that have minor symptoms but that could easily become major ones with one wrong hit.”

  “Of course, anything that I can do to help, I’m right here at your beck and call.”

  “Thanks, my thought was to put together some kind of video with some interviews with myself and maybe a couple other guys who’ve suffered like I have. Maybe interview a couple top doctors from around the country explaining what is happening and how we can avoid it. What side effects we deal with and how debilitating they can be to some of us. Explain how we can be triggered or hit out of the blue by some of these things and they can completely dominate our lives when they do. Just yesterday I woke up with a migraine. It took me out for the entire day. I slept through my phone going off multiple times during the day. Mark and Beckett had to come bang on my door to wake me up.”

  “I can make some calls to some guys I know that have retired over the last couple of years that might be able to help. Do you have a camera crew or producer on board to help with that side of things?” he asks.

  “Nope, do you have any suggestions?”

  “I can give you the contact information of our crew that does the game coverage. They might be able to help, or point you in the direction of someone who can.”

  “That’d be great,” I tell him. “I was going to call my doc, plus reach out to a few others who have worked with other athletes around the country.”

  “Sounds like you’ve got a good idea. I hope that it all plays out and can help guys.”

  “Me too. I’m willing to share my experience if it will help just one person not have to go through what I’ve been going through.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jill

  “Are you ready for today?” I ask Julia as I watch as she finishes her makeup for our first outing to look at dresses for both of us for her wedding.

  “I’m so ready!” she exclaims excitedly. Beckett is out of town for a few days on a road trip. The team plays tonight in LA, so we’ve got hours before she’ll want to be home in time to watch his game.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask. I know she’s been looking at bridal magazines lately, trying to get a feel for what the current trends are.

  “I want something simple, not too frilly. Especially since we’re flying to Sweden, it will need to fit into a suitcase without being ruined.”

  “And you still want the bridal party in a wine color?” I ask, just to make sure none of her plans have changed.

  “That’s correct. I figured we could find a dress line that offered multiple styles with the color I liked and then each of you can pick the dress style that you feel the best in.”

  “I like that idea,” I comment.

  “Shall we head out?” she asks, grabbing her purse from the counter. “We’re meeting my mom at the dress shop in,” she pauses to look at her watch, “ten minutes.”

  “I’m ready.” I pop up from where I was perched, following her out of the place she shares with Beckett. I’m so happy my bestie found Beckett. They’re perfect for one another and he treats her like a princess, without the attitude of entitlement that would come with that from most women.

  “There you girls are!” Bridget, Julia’s mom, greets us as we enter the dress store.

  “Sorry, I was late getting ready this morning,” Julia admits.

  “Well, you’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” Bridget says as she hugs both of us.

  “Welcome, you must be the bride to be,” a lady says as she approaches the three of us, but speaking directly to Julia.

  “I’m the bride!” Julia exclaims. “I’m Julia,” she introduces herself, “and this is my maid of honor, Jill.”

  “It is so nice to meet both of you, I’m Sara and I’ll be helping you today. After speaking with your mom, I understand you wanted to look at dresses for both the bride and bridal party, is that correct?”

  “That’s correct. I was ho
ping to find a line with a color I liked and then I can have the rest of my bridal party look at the dress styles and pick the one they’d feel the most comfortable in. Two of my bridal party members won’t be able to come in to pick, as they live in Sweden where the wedding will take place, so I’ll have to get their measurements so we can order, then send the dresses to them for any alterations that might need done.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. Depending on the line, we can also sometimes drop ship the dresses directly to them,” Sara explains.

  “Oh, that’s even better.”

  “Shall we get started?” Sara asks.

  “Sure!” Julia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

  “I like to have my brides take a look through some of the racks and displays, point out things you like and don’t like. That will help give me an idea of your tastes and I can suggest some others based on that. Sometimes it’s the first dress a bride tries on that is the one, and sometimes it’s the fiftieth, so don’t feel bad saying that you want to try something else on, or knowing when you’ve found the one,” she explains as she leads us to some racks.

  “I’ll give you fifteen or twenty minutes to browse and then I’ll get you set up in a dressing room. In the meantime, can I get any of you something to drink? A glass of champagne, water, soda?” she offers.

  “Oh, champagne sounds yummy and seems appropriate for the occasion,” Julia answers for all of us.

  “Coming right up,” Sara says before she leaves us to browse.

  “There are so many beautiful dresses here! I don’t know how I’m going to choose one,” Julia whispers to me.

  “You’ll know, or at least that’s what I’ve been told.” I giggle as we look at dress after dress. Some get heart eye reactions while others can’t be pushed back on the rack fast enough.