Not a Player (Laketown Hockey Book 1)

by A. J. Wynter

  I took a few minutes in the change room to splash some water on my face and smooth down my hair. I put on my warmup pants and laced up my skates, thankful that I had somehow woken up just in time to get to the rink, and that I wasn’t going to have to skate in my beer-soaked jeans.

  “Hey,” I said as I approached the ice.

  “Hey.” She kept her gaze on the Zamboni as it passed by.

  I leaned beside her. “What are we working on today, boss?”

  She turned to face me and visibly recoiled. “Are you drunk?”

  “No.”

  “You stink.” She scrunched her nose and looked away. “I’m not going to work with someone who’s been drinking.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Do what?” She put her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at me.

  “Make that call. You’ve been hired by my coach. Your paycheck is coming from my parents. I could show up here tripping on acid and you’d still have to do what you’re told.”

  “Do. What. I’m. Told?”

  Shit. Maybe I was a little drunk.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m out of here.” She turned and walked away, her gait clunky, courtesy of her figure skates.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” My cheeks felt like they were on fire and I saw my entire career swirling down the drain, the plug pulled courtesy of this holier than thou bitch.

  She paused at the door to her dressing room. “My problem?” She looked over her shoulder. “My problem?” Her voice grew louder. “I’m trying to do a job. I’m trying to help you and you’ve been nothing but an inconsiderate...” she turned around, “unprofessional...”, she took a step toward me, “spoiled rotten...” Now she was shouting and had to take a breath in between each insult. “Meathead.” She was close enough to slap me. I had nowhere to go and I braced myself for a stinging cheek. “Drunk...Jock...Asshole.” She jabbed my pec with her surprisingly strong pointer finger as she continued to sling insults at me.

  My nostrils flared. She wasn’t wrong, I was all of those things. But I was also a lot of good things too.

  “You didn’t care that I was a spoiled rotten meathead asshole when I gave you my car.” I raised my eyebrows at her and instead of backing away, I took a step closer. Any player knew that the closer you were, the harder it was for someone to get a good punch in. “Did I get the insult right?”

  “Is everything okay here?” Andy stood in the hallway behind Jessie.

  Jessie blinked. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

  Andy glanced from Jessie to me and I stepped back. “I’m done with your skates.” He handed Jessie pair of well-worn Bauers.

  “Thanks,” she took them from him. “See you tomorrow, Kane. Don’t bother showing up if you’re under the influence again.”

  Then she stepped around Andy and disappeared into her dressing room. “Dammit,” I hissed.

  “Fitzy, if you’re wasted, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Andy crossed his arms.

  I sighed. “Andy. I had a couple of drinks last night, and one spilled all over me. I didn’t want to risk a DUI, so I slept in my car.”

  Andy shook his head. “That explains it.” He looked toward the dressing room. “She’s a little...” he paused as if debating on whether to finish his sentence “sensitive to drinking.”

  “But I’m not drunk.”

  Andy smiled while simultaneously shaking his head. “You smell wasted, Fitz.” He opened the rinkside door for me. I grabbed my stick and stepped onto the ice. “You should explain that to her, and maybe apologize.”

  “Apologize?” Had he been in a different room? “Maybe she’s the one who should apologize for overreacting.” I bit my tongue, wanting to add being a drama queen and pulling some kind of power trip to ruin my life.

  “Trust me, she’s not like that.” Andy smiled. “Figure out a way to get that girl on your side. Or get on her side. You two can probably help each other out more than you think.”

  “Doubt that.” I was already trying to think about how I’d explain this morning’s disaster to Coach.

  I looked at the fresh sheet of ice and turned to ask Andy a question, but he’d already walked away. Instead of skating around the ice, I walked away from it and did something I knew I’d regret.

  Chapter 18 – Jessie

  The knock on the door was soft.

  “Just a second.” I had one foot in a skate. I hobbled over to the door and pulled it open, expecting Andy, but finding Kane. One elbow rested on the doorframe above his head, his other hand poised to knock again.

  “I thought you were Andy.” I stood on my left foot, the one on the ground, and Kane towered over me, but his head was bowed.

  “I’m not drunk,” he said. He pulled out his sweatshirt, wafting it – “Someone spilled a drink on me at the Brewpub last night.”

  “And you put it back on?” I crossed my arms across my body and let the heavy door rest on my shoulder.

  “Is that better than sleeping in it?” His lips turned up slightly and I noticed that his whole face changed when he smiled. It lit up.

  I tapped my lips with my finger as if thinking. “Not really. Why did you sleep in it?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I had a couple of drinks last night,”

  I knew it.

  “It’s not what you think. I didn’t want to drive, I didn’t want to go to Valerock with the team, I just thought I’d have a catnap in my car and when I woke up, it was, well, quarter to five and I ran here.”

  “You ran here?”

  “Yeah.” The smile neck rub combo came out again. “If I get a DUI, it’ll ruin my life. I’m pretty careful about that. I’m sorry for showing up late. I promise I meant to come and listen to you, to hear what you have to say. I’m ready to take this seriously.”

  My heart started pounding harder than it should have. He was talking about our training sessions, but it sounded like words that every girl wanted to hear. Promise. Serious. Listen.

  I was ready to accept his apology, but when my eyes met his, I was rendered unable to form complete sentences.

  “Jessie?”

  “Yeah,” I shook my head and blinked hard.

  “Can we skate now?”

  I thought about it for a second. “You’re not drunk, and you ran here in flip flops. I think that deserves a little ice time.”

  He stepped away from the door and gave a slight bow.

  “Let me put my skates on.”

  “See you out there.” He smiled and when the door clanked shut, I realized that I had been holding my breath. I rested my back against the closed door, allowing myself, and my heart, a minute to calm down. Don’t you dare fall for him, I whispered to myself, knowing that it was too late.

  I TEETERED TO THE ICE surface, the hockey skates felt loose on my ankles and rocked me in an unfamiliar way as I walked. Kane was skating slow smooth laps and I gripped the boards as I stepped onto the ice.

  “Whoa.” He scraped to a stop beside me. “You’re wearing them.”

  “Only seems fair.” I shrugged.

  “Have you ever skated in hockey skates before?” he raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Nope.”

  “This should be interesting.”

  I pointed. “Meet me in the middle.”

  “It’s called center ice.”

  “Okay, meet me at the center ice then.” The sound system crackled as I plugged in my phone. I glanced over to Kane who was waiting patiently, his chin leaning on his hockey stick.

  I thumbed through my playlist, passing by my usual warmup songs, but I didn’t have any Metallica or any other hard stuff.

  “Put your stick down,” I instructed. He skated over to me and leaned his stick against the boards.

  The opening notes of Bad Moon Rising filled the arena and he cocked his head at me. “CCR?”

  The guy knew his classic rock. “I hope it’s satisfactory, I’m fresh out of Jock Ja
ms 1996.”

  He almost snort laughed. “Too bad. It’s a great album.”

  “I know, it’s every hockey player’s anthem.” Having a hockey player brother meant I knew every track on every Jock Jams compilation from front to back.

  “Alright, let’s start at center ice.” I took a stride, forgetting that the blades on my feet didn’t have picks and my arms flailed in a wild circle. I almost recovered with a succession of quick steps backward, but those didn’t save me either. The lights of the stadium blurred, and my movements seemed to go into slow motion as the betraying skates flew into in the air, impossibly high in front of my face. This fall was going to hurt.

  Instead of my tailbone hitting the ice, two tree trunk-sized arms thrust underneath my arms and my back slammed into Kane. I could feel his chest shaking as laughter rocked his body.

  “You’re going to teach me how to skate?” His voice was deep and reverberated in my back.

  “Put me down and I’ll show you.” I was stiff as a board in his arms, my feet just inches above the ice.

  He lowered me but didn’t fully release me. His breath was warm on my earlobe, and it sent goosebumps down my neck that fanned across my chest. I shivered and Kane rubbed my arms. “Thanks,” I murmured, but it wasn’t the temperature that had sent that chill through my body.

  “Kane,” I turned, this time cognizant of the blades beneath me. “You’re losing your power by easing up on your edge too early. That’s it. It’s going to be an easy fix if you can focus on it.”

  “You care to show me, coach?”

  Even his smirk was cute, and I looked away, hoping to hide my burning cheeks. I took one stride and it felt good, the next stride, even better. I picked up speed and ran out of ice. I pictured the way Fitzy had darted around the Predators’ player in the last game, his stick wagging like a dog’s tail leading him down the ice. I shook the figure skater out of my body, balled my hands into fists, and almost ran as I rounded the corner. I headed towards Fitzy, pumping my arms like a speed skater, and then put all of my weight into an aggressive hockey stop, spraying snow up to his shins.

  “Nice work.” He sounded genuine.

  “Finish the stride, Fitzy. That’s all you’ve got to do.” I cocked my hip and crossed my arms. And once again, forgot that there was no ‘back’ to my blades. This time Fitzy wasn’t there to catch me, and my butt slammed to the ice. “Ow.” I winced and squinted my eyes. When I opened them, Fitzy was in front of me, holding out his hand. “It might take me a minute to get used to them.”

  “I think I see what you mean,” he smiled and pulled me up from the ice like I was a feather. He didn’t let go of my hands and I didn’t move to pull mine from his.

  “Show me,” I whispered. I didn’t let go. Instead, I squeezed tighter and turned backward, and like I had done when I had taught little kids, held Kane’s hands, completely unnecessarily, as he quickly adopted the technique I recommended. I let go and Kane took off. I shouted cues at him every once in a while, but the guy had it. I grabbed his stick and tossed it to him. “Let me see how you perform with your stick.”

  He grinned as he snatched it from the air.

  “I mean...” I stammered but couldn’t finish my sentence.

  “Was that a Freudian slip?” Kane laughed.

  “Just go, let’s see your stroking...” My face flushed with heat. “I mean, oh my god.”

  “Stroking?” This time he was full-on belly laughing.

  “That’s what it’s called.” Now I was laughing too, shaking on my feet as I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes.

  “I think I could charge you with harassment right now.” Kane swiped away his tears of laughter.

  By the time Andy sounded the buzzer, both Kane and I had our feet under ourselves. “You’re a great skater,” I said as we headed off the ice surface.

  “You’re not so bad yourself.” He reached over the boards and he opened the door for me, gesturing with his hand, “Ladies’ first.” We walked down the corridor to the dressing rooms in silence. On the ice, the joking and laughing came easily. Off the ice, awkwardness set back in.

  “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I paused with my hand on the door to the dressing room.”

  “Do you want to get breakfast?” Kane asked. Then added quickly, “I mean, we could discuss everything we talked about on the ice, I think it would be really helpful, for you know, coaching purposes.”

  There it was again, the smile that bordered on a sexy smirk and I couldn’t say no. “Sure. I could go for a coffee right about now and I’m not the one who slept in their car.”

  Chapter 19 – Kane

  “Pink sky in the morning...” I mused as we left the arena.

  “Sailor’s take warning.” Jessie finished the old saying. “They’re not calling for rain.” She looked up at the sky. “But those old sayings aren’t usually wrong.”

  Jessie pulled an old crappy old bike from the rack at the front door. “Can I put this in the back of your car?” she asked.

  I scanned the parking lot, panicking when I didn’t see my beloved car, and then remembered my early morning sprint. Shit. “I walked from the Brew Pub.”

  “That’s right.” Jessie grabbed yanked the bike from the rack. “It’s not too far from here.”

  I took the pink bike from her hands and threw my leg over the seat. “Hop on,” I patted the handlebars.

  “You’ve got to be joking,” she scoffed.

  “I’m starving. Get on.” I patted the bike again.

  “Kane Fitzgerald, if I get hurt before Regionals...”

  “Regionals? For what?”

  She looked at me like I had two heads. “Figure skating. I need to make it past regionals if I want a shot at the National team. And I have to get on Team USA to skate in the Olympics.”

  “You’re that good?” Sometimes I should think before I open my mouth.

  “I used to be,” she said as she took a deep breath.

  “Hey, if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that you don’t talk like that. Mindset is everything, Jessie. I’m going to make the NHL. I tell myself that every day.” As long as I find my coin, I thought to myself.

  “It’s easy for you.”

  “Easy?” I walked the bike along beside her as we headed toward the main street of town.

  “I shouldn’t say that,” she looked up and sniffed. “I know that you work hard.”

  “I do work hard. And I’m trying my best not to be offended right now.” It wasn’t the first time someone assumed that I was successful because my dad was rich. “You of all people should know how hard we have to work if we want to go pro. I was up every day before school, shooting pucks in the back yard.”

  “I’m sorry, Kane. I just... I’ve had a rough go this last little while.” Her voice cracked.

  “I know.” Was it callous of me not to say sorry about your parents? I wanted to, but I didn’t know if it would make her too sad. “It must be hard.” It was lame, but it was the best I could come up with.

  “It is.” She resumed walking. “But things are going to work out.”

  From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she didn’t believe her own words.

  “Get on,” I ordered and pointed to the handlebars. “I promise, I won’t hurt you.” The girl had more on her shoulders than anyone her age should have to deal with. It wasn’t my job to protect Jessie, but I knew that I could.

  She looked at me sideways, but then stopped. “Okay.” She stepped over the front wheel and sidled her Lululemoned ass onto the handlebars. “Where do I hold on?” She looked back at me and my chest involuntarily constricted. Her eyes were the greenest I’d ever seen, not an emerald, more like the green of a freshly unfurled leaf.

  “Here,” I placed her hands on either side of her butt. “Now, hold on,” I shouted and pushed hard on the pedal. She extended her feet in front of her and squealed. “Fitzy...” The ends of her hair flicked at my face as we picked up speed. I
pumped steadily and evenly, and eventually, her grip loosened on the bars and she relaxed her feet down.

  “This is actually kind of fun,” she said without looking back.

  “Easy for you to say. There’s a giant hill coming up.” My breaths were already starting to labor up the incline.

  “Get those quads moving,” she laughed. A genuine laugh, the kind that I rarely heard. There was nothing fake about Jessie and I wanted to hear that giggle again. I stood and pumped the pedals hard, my heart pounding against my chest, Jessie’s laughter fueling my legs.

  We reached the Brew Pub and she hopped off the bike, rubbing her butt. My gaze followed her hand and my balls tensed. Shit. I averted my gaze, opened up the Land Cruiser, and put her bike inside.

  “You’ve earned your breakfast.” She reached for the passenger door, but I jumped past her and opened it. I was raised to be a gentleman.

  “Thanks.” She looked amused.

  I glanced at her as we drove down Maple Street. The first rays of the sun beamed low across the lake as we crossed the suspension bridge, the tires humming on the metal grates.

  My heart sank when I pulled into the parking lot of The Crepe House and realized that it was closed.

  “Oh no,” she sighed.

  “Shit,” I whispered. “I don’t think any of the other breakfast spots are open for the season yet.”

  “It’s a ghost town until after Memorial Day,” she said.

  I liked the peace and quiet of Laketown in the off-season, but today, I wished for some of the hustle and bustle when the warmer weather brought hordes of cottagers and weekend warriors alike.

  Something magical had happened on the ice and I didn’t want to break the spell. “I’ll make you breakfast.” I put the car in reverse before she could object.

  Chapter 20 – Jessie

  “I’m really not that hungry.” I squirmed uncomfortably on the teak barstool at Kane’s giant kitchen island.

  Kane rubbed his belly over his t-shirt. “After the workout you put me through. I’m starving.” He cracked a seventh egg into the bowl whisked in some milk. The smell of bacon and the sound of the whisk against the stainless-steel bowl transported me back in time, and my stomach clenched with nostalgia.