Page 117 of Playing the Pucking Game
“Watch it,” he snaps, as if I could see through the wooden door to know he was there.
“Sorry,” I mutter, moving to the side so I’m not in his way.
Why I do it, I don’t know. I have just as much right to be standing in this office as he does.
My chin drops, but it’s too late; he’s already gone. Plus, there are other voices in the training room I just walked through to get in here, and the last thing I want to do is make a scene.
Instead, I silently fume as I put my things in my drawer and wake up my iPad to check over today’s schedule.
As I stare at the first name on the list, I’m taken back to last night, when I stumbled into the penthouse looking like a bedraggled cat.
I trust Linc, and despite not knowing the rest of the team as well, I trust his judgment. If he says the guys can keep my secret, then I trust that they will.
I’m distracted reading an article about new research in muscle recovery when there’s a rap on the door that scares the shit out of me.
“Shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cole Hansley says with regret in his features as I fight to catch my breath.
“It’s okay. For someone so huge, you’d think I’d have heard you coming.”
He chuckles as he leans his shoulder against the doorframe.
“You ready, Donnelly?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Hansley,” I counter, hopping to my feet, ready to get to work.
But as I step closer to him, he doesn’t move like I was expecting him to. Instead, he ducks his head and whispers, “We meant what we said last night. Where you’re currently sleeping is none of our business. We respect you, Parker. More than that, we trust you, and we want to prove that you can do the same with us.”
As I stare into his dark green eyes, my own begin to sting with emotion.
Holy shit. Do not cry in front of a player.
“T-thank you, Cole. I really appreciate that.”
He smiles softly at me.
“We hang out at Linc’s place often, but if you ever don’t want us there, all you have to do is say.”
“I don’t want to intrude on Linc’s life any more than I already am. I’ll be out of there as fast as possible so he can go back to entertaining bunnies every night of the week.”
Cole’s brow wrinkles and his lips part as if he’s about to say something, but he thinks better of it.
Instead, he pushes back to his full height, which, even without skates, is ridiculous at six foot four. I have to tip my head all the way back just to keep eye contact with him.
“He’s a good guy,” Cole finally says. “You’re lucky to have him in your corner.”
“I know. He might drive me crazy, but deep down, he’s got a heart of gold.”
Cole smiles at me again before spinning around and marching toward the empty trainer’s table. On the other side ofthe room, Mitchell is working with Isaac Hammond, our second-line goalie.
“So, what are we focusing on today? Where are you feeling it?”
“Hips,” Cole says with a wince. “It’s always the fucking hips.”
I spend just over an hour working with Cole, but as our time together starts coming to an end, dread begins to drip through my veins. The next person on my table is going to be Linc.
I’m not ready to see him, let alone have to touch him.
“You okay?” Cole asks as we finish up.
