Page 59 of Offside and Off-Limits
“Nice segue to some of the questions I’ve got from the public.” I pull a folded piece of paper from my jacket pocket and read the first line. “Selena from Seattle says she knows nothing about hockey and only watches it for the hot guys.” Cade laughs. “She wants you to explain the positions on the team.”
“Happy to, Selena. There are three forwards, two defensemen, and one goalie on a team. Forwards are centers and wingers, like me, and we make things happen on the ice.”
“So you're saying you’re a troublemaker?” I ask.
“Me?” he asks innocently. “Centers are like the quarterbacks of hockey. They take the faceoffs and distribute the puck. Wingers like me support the center and try to create scoring opportunities. So yeah, it’s kinda our job to create trouble for the opposition as we try to get the points on the board.”
“What about the defense?” I ask, happy with the direction the interview is going so far.
“The defense is like the responsible older siblings. They keep us from getting into too much trouble. Like you and me.” He waggles his brows at me, and I can’t help but smile.
“Moving onto the next question. Lauren from Tacoma wants to know what a faceoff is, and why it’s got that name.”
“A faceoff is where two players line up, face to face, sticks on the ice.” He positions his stick between us. “The ref drops the puck right between the two players like this.” He drops the puck onto the ice, the dense rubber landing with a sharpclick. He lifts his head, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that seems to have absolutely nothing to do with the rules of hockey. “And then it's all about who wants it more. Who can read the other person's intentions and react faster. It’s about knowing exactly when to make your move.”
I press my lips together, his low voice rumbling over me. Why does this feel like it’s about more than just hockey?
“Because if you hesitate, if you second-guess yourself for even one second, someone else wins control.”
I clear my throat, like that’ll help me pretend his words didn’t just knock my equilibrium sideways. “And what happens when someone wins that control?” I ask.
“You get to decide what happens next. You get to make all the plays. Of course, sometimes the real strategy is letting the other person think they're winning, right up until you make your move.”
His words drip in innuendo, and I’m beginning to wonder why I ever agreed to doing this with him.
“So, Lauren,” I say, facing the camera, which feels way safer than looking into Cade’s eyes as his words roll over me. “It turns out faceoffs are super strategic.”
“Everything in hockey is strategic. You need to read the other players, know when to be patient, and when to be aggressive.” He pauses for a beat. “When to go for what you really want.”
Oh, this is definitely not just about hockey anymore.
I should have known he’d be like this, all suggestive and…Cade. But I’ve got to give the people what they want, and they want to see that chemistry between us once more. So, I steel myself to ask my next question from the list.
“Deanna from Spokane wants to know what a slapshot is,” I ask, noticing that all my questions seem to be from women.
“That’s easy. A slapshot is when a player winds up and whacks the puck with major force instead of just nudging it around the ice. It’s a definitive move and can change the play in a second.”
That’s better. A straight answer. No innuendo, no flirtation.
We are back on track.
“And of course a slapshot could create a scoring opportunity,” he adds.
Aaaaand we’re back to flirty again.
“Creating scoring opportunities are all about patience and positioning,” Cade continues, this time looking at the camera. “You can't force it, even if you want to. You have to wait for the perfect setup.”
“How do you know when the moment's right?”
He nudges the puck with his stick skillfully on the ice as he speaks. “You learn to read the signs, you know? The defense might shift, and maybe an opening appears at the perfect time. Sometimes you get just one shot, and other times you get a bunch in a row. It’s unpredictable like that.”
“And when you finally get that perfect opportunity?” I ask, quite possibly against my better judgment.
“You put everything you've got behind it.” His gaze is positively smoldering now as it lands on mine. “Because missing a perfect scoring opportunity is something you regret for a long, long time.”
Lord, have mercy.
I’m going to have to edit this video to within an inch of its life.
