“Cool.”
The conversation ends. Troy shoots a wary look at Finn.
“I’ll show you around,” Finn says easily, nonchalance itself. Then his eyes brighten. “I can put you in my vlog.”
He holds up his phone before both of us. “Hey guys, this is my newest teammate. Say hello, new teammate!”
“Hello!” I only somewhat squeak.
Finn shuts off his phone and smiles. “I’ll edit you in.”
Troy presses his lips together. “Don’t scare the new guy.”
“I don’t mind,” I insist, but my voice wobbles.
“Of course, you don’t mind,” Finn says. “You’re a hockey player. Hockey players don’t get scared.”
I grin, even though I’m totally terrified, and Finn shows me around the locker room. His golden-brown hair glints in the light, his perfect biceps, covered in a sweaty sheen, bulge, and he emits a happy, deep laugh that makes my insides lurch like a puck ricocheting after a hard slap shot.
CHAPTER FIVE
Finn
The new guy has the same wide-eyed, sparkling-eyed look as most rookies. In fact, his bright green eyes are even more wide-eyed, and I find myself smiling up at him. He has short, dark hair, and I wonder if they would feel spiky beneath my fingers. He flashes a wide smile, but I don’t miss how he fiddles with his hoodie. The guy is nervous, and I want to reassure him.
I hope this will go well.
Only some guys can handle joining the NHL. Mindset is huge, and Noah wouldn’t be the first to fumble his time here. The only thing worse than not being known by one’s heroes is to be known by them...and disliked. Though Coach is super cool, no one wants the force of his disappointment.
“It’s good you’re here now,” I tell him. “Sometimes people get called up on game day. Our next game isn’t until tomorrow.”
His face pales.
Shit.
I didn’t mean to make him nervous.
“And we’re playing in Boston,” I say. “Against Buffalo. No biggie.”
A frown shoots over his face, and the distance between his brows narrow. “I’m not scared.”
“Of course not.” My heart skitters anyway, because I like making people comfortable, not uncomfortable. I flash mymost reassuring smile. “Then we’re going to play some Western Conference games. Vegas, LA and San Jose.”
“Cool.”
“You, um, probably read the schedule already.”
He nods, then fiddles more with his hoodie. It’s gray and oversized, and something about it looks wrong.
I realize the issue. “You need some Blizzards gear. Come!”
I drag him from the locker room. We peek into the various exercise rooms, some facing the Charles. The air fills with the whirr of treadmills and murmurs of men.
“Wow.”
“Cool, huh. But then that’s what happens when one of the richest guys in the world buys your team.”
“Have you met Tanaka?” Noah asks.
