Page 4 of Thrown for a Loop
Thank you, she mouths, taking it from me. “Linda, this is all very helpful, but I’m going to have to call you back tomorrow,” she says. “Right. Yes. But tomorrow—”
After another moment of wrangling, she finally hangs up. “God. I need a minute. Sorry,” she says to me, aiming the report I’ve given her at the stapler and smacking the handle with great force. Then she dashes into the manager’s office, emerging two seconds later empty-handed.
“Not the adversary report!” Sharp barks. “I wanted thescoutingreport! And where’s the damn bus?”
She whispers a curse under her breath. “On it!” she calls back. To me she says, “The team driver was sick, there’s a storm brewing over the plains, and Mr. Bossypants is on a tear—”
The phone on her desk trills again.
Darcy squints at the caller ID and closes her eyes briefly, as if in pain. “Hell.This is the third time she’s called today.” Darcy grabs the phone and answers it. She negotiates with the caller for a moment and then frowns. “If it’s really that urgent, let me see if he can be located. Hold, please.” She taps a button.
“DARCY!” bellows Sharp. “NOW! We’re leaving in five!”
“Anything I can do to help?” I offer.
She takes a deep breath. “Oh God, yes. Can you poke your head into the players’ lounge and tell Chase Merritt that he’s wanted in the GM’s office?”
“Chase Merritt?” I gulp.
“Yeah—winger? High scorer last year? Eyes like the Caribbean Sea?” She pounds on her computer keyboard like it’s on fire. “The GM doesn’t really need him, but I’m tired of answering calls for him.”
I take a step back from her desk, as if to put distance between Darcy and this unfortunate request. “Um…”
“Please? First round’s on me tonight,” she says, hittingprinton a document and then running toward the printer. “I’ll be your best friend!”
Shit!Panicking, I walk slowly toward the players’ lounge. Maybe I won’t be able to find him.
No such luck, though. My gaze finds him immediately. If picking Chase Merritt out of a crowd were an Olympic sport, I’d have the gold medal. It’s always been like this. From the tilt of his rugged chin, to the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he smiles. I see it all, and I can’t look away. Even from across the room, I notice the confident set of his shoulders and the way his hair—the color of darkened wheat—curls against the back of his kissable neck.
Hell.
I glance toward Darcy’s desk again. She’s watching me through the glass. And when I hesitate, she points frantically toward Chase.
So I take a breath and step forward. For years I’ve pictured the moment when I’d get one more chance to speak to him. I’ve played this like a movie in my mind—what I wanted to say and how he might respond. It never looked anything like this.
But I close the distance anyway. He’s standing with the team captain, mid-conversation, a smirk playing at his mouth.
My expression softens automatically. It doesn’t matter how nervous I am right now, because the greediest corner of my heart still craves this. I thought I’d never see Chase again, yet here we are.
Then he turns, and our gazes meet.Finally.
Except it’s worse than I expected. Because Chase Merritt stares back at me with fury burning in his deep blue eyes.
Clearly I’ve made a colossal mistake.
Chapter 2
Nine and a Half Years Ago
June
Backpack over his shoulder, Chase Merritt whistles as he leaves the gym, his muscles twitching from that last set of squats. It’s June, so he’s had the Western Massachusetts University weight room mostly to himself.
His hockey teammates back in Minnesota would have a good laugh if they could see him pulling open the door of the arena under theIce Dreams Figure Skating Campbanner.
He doesn’t much care, though. Working here for eight weeks as an assistant coach and camp counselor means free room and board, gym access, ice time, and a paycheck, with every penny heading straight into his depleted bank account. The camp even paid him gas money for the trip out here.
Best side hustle ever.
