Page 62 of Slap Shot Scandal
“This presser is about the Crushers and the team’s new direction. Further questions should focus on the matter at hand.” She glares at the reporter and he shrinks at her reprimand, sitting down.
Another reporter asks about the team’s relocation and Prince gives vague, PR-worthy responses. He fields questions about the logo, the mascot, the coach.
But all my attention’s on Harbor. The way she engages with the media, handling the toughest inquiries with ease. Her poise, her quiet confidence. The don’t-fuck-with-me vibe she’s got going.
She’s everything I want in a teammate—smart, tough, unshakeable under pressure. The kind of person who makes everyone around them better.
Which makes me wanting her the most selfish thing I could do. She’s here to save this team. Save our careers—not risk hers on a captain who can’t keep his priorities straight.
Sure, she’s hot as hell.
But she’s completely off-limits for all the right reasons.
“Last question—Robertson?” Harbor points at a tall, skinny dude sitting in front.
“The team’s making a big charity push in the community with the Hockey with Heart campaign. I’d love to hear from a player how they feel about this.”
“Absolutely. The team captain can speak to this.” She glances over at me and I clear my throat, my chest tight.
Nothing like putting me on the spot.
I step forward to the podium, my fingers tightening around the edges. “I believe I can speak for the team on this. We look forward to being an integral, positive force in the community of Driftwood Cove and giving back.”
Harbor’s shoulders drop. A subtle breath of relief. I don’t know if she’s grateful, or just glad I didn’t screw up. Hopefully I can get the team on board with this plan.
It’s not like we have much choice.
“Any idea which charities you’ll be focusing on?” The reporter drills me.
“Um…” My palms slick and I search for any detail that’s been discussed. “We’ll be focusing on youth hockey and um, other important charities this season.”
“Do you believe you and your teammates will be good role models for youth players?”
“Absolutely.” I swallow hard, pushing down my doubts. Surely we can all keep it together for a few hours in front of a group of kids. Even Bennett.
“We look forward to the full report on that, Captain.” The reporter shoots me a cocky smile, then takes his seat.
I step back from the mic, palms still damp. The captain title feels a little too heavy today. Harbor gives a small nod. Barely perceptible, but I catch it. Approval. Or relief. Hell, maybe both.
“Thanks for coming, everyone.” She clicks off the mic and cameras flash as the media disperses.
The team filters toward the hallway and I follow, but not before taking one last look at her.
Calm, cool, in control.
I hate how much I want to unravel her. How much I want to press pause on this whole damn season andfeelsomething again.
Something I never thought I’d miss.
Bennett sidles up beside me, elbowing me in the ribs. “Nice speech, Captain America.”
I don’t answer, ignoring him. My gaze is still on her.
Harbor’s eyes flick to mine and for a quick second, it’s just me and her. The room fades away—the reporters, my teammates, all of it.
It’s just us and the fire between us.
The fire we’re both pretending isn’t there.
