Page 15 of Power Play
“I don’t want to get hurt,” I admit quietly. “And this has disaster written all over it.”
She nods. “I get it. I do. But maybe it’s not about not getting hurt. Maybe it’s about choosing who’s worth hurting for.”
I stare at her, stunned into silence. Then, finally, I groan. “If I say I’ll think about it, will you shut up?”
“Absolutely not. But I’ll buy you another pastry.”
“Fine.”
“Victory,” she beams, waving to the barista.
As she stands to order, I pull out my phone again. Murphy’s message still glows on the screen, hopeful and haunting all at once.
Maybe this is stupid. Maybe this is risky. But maybe it’s the start of something real. Even if it’s wrapped in fake labels and public smiles. Even if it breaks me a little.
I text him back.
“We need to talk. And you’d better be buying the coffee this time.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
MURPHY
Istare at my phone in my hand, the message from Sophie staring back at me.
“We need to talk. And you’d better be buying the coffee this time.”
I’m not quite sure what to make of it. After the whole gala debacle and Chloe trying to attach herself to me like a bad smell you can’t get rid of, I’m amazed Sophie’s replied at all. I knew Chloe was trouble, that’s why I cut my losses and got the hell out of Dodge, but man, she sure is persistent.
The door to the locker room crashes open and Dylan walks in, throwing his kit bag down on the floor beside mine. We have stalls next to each other. Dylan holds his hand out for me to do that weird handshake we’ve perfected over the years, and then he slumps down into his stall and starts to get his kit organised for morning drills. I slide my phone into my bag and pick up my pads.
By the time we’re done with drills, my kit is soaked through, and my muscles are aching in a good way. The kind that says you’ve worked hard, but also reminds you you’re no longer a Rookie and eager to please. I drop onto the bench and rip my helmet off, rubbing at the back of my neck. Dylan flops down beside me, breathless and smug.
“You gonna tell me what’s bugging you? You’ve spent the last sixty minutes gliding around the ice as though you’ve been hit by the Zamboni.” Dylan says, concern in his tone.
The sigh that leaves my body is low and gruff, “I fucked up at the gala, didn’t I? Chloe turned up acting like we’re still a thing. She was showing off in front of Sophie, who was naturally pissed at me, and left.” My shoulders lift on a shrug. “And then just to make my nighteven more peachy, my agent said my sponsors are looking for a more ‘wholesome’ persona from me. I mean, what the actual fuck…”
Before I can spill my guts any further or Dylan can dig any deeper, Jonno enters the locker room and starts dishing out orders. “Right, weights room in ten and then after lunch we’re in the meeting room, I want to go over the last game ready for the game on Friday,” he flicks through the paperwork on his clipboard then turns to look at me. “Murph, I want you to go see Mia, get that knee checked out. You were favouring the left again during drills.”
Jonno leaves the room before I can protest. I pull on a clean T-shirt and wrap my towel around my neck before I stand and head to the treatment room. Dylan calls after me just as I’m about to leave. “Talk to her. Sophie, I mean.” I lift my hand to my forehead and offer him a salute then allow the door to close behind me.
I knock on the door to the therapy room and don’t wait for Mia to answer before I enter. “Bet you were expecting D, sorry to disappoint.” I chuckle as Mia turns around with a scornful look.
“I was not expecting Dylan,” she pats the bench and indicates for me to hop onto the table. “How were the morning drills?” She’s already got her hands on my knee, manipulating it this way and that. I wince when she twists my right leg to the side. “That feel tight?” she asks.
“No… it’s fine. Just took me by surprise.” I school my face and she moves to my left leg. “I saw Sophie yesterday,” she drops it into the conversation nonchalantly. “I think I need to tell you that I may have let slip about your sponsors.”
“Clarke!” I groan. She didn’t.Except, yeah, she did.“What exactly did you tell her?” I push her hands off my knee and swing around so I’m sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Erm… I’m not done with your knee,” She walks across the room and grabs some of the blue tape she favours lately. “I need to strap that right one up. You’re going to end up with a tear if we’re not careful.”
“Don’t change the subject. What did you say to Soph?”
Mia busies herself wrapping my knee in tape so she can avoid looking me in the eye. “I just said that you’re sponsors want you to work on your image. You know, less player and more all-round good guy.” She finishes taping my knee and motions for me to stand and test the weight. “I’ll make some recommendations to Jonno, keep icing it and rest it when you can.”
“Dylan needs to learn not to overshare, I’ll deal with the sponsorshipshit. There’s no need for anyone to panic about myreputation.” I huff a little as I put weight on my leg. I’m not gonna lie, it has been playing up a little lately. “If Dylan’s not careful, Jacko will be stress baking again, and we’ll have a freezer full of protein muffins and butterfly buns before you can sayBake Off.”
Mia laughs at that and pats me on the shoulder. “Sorry Murph, I was just trying to help. You know, Sophie likes you and if she can help she will.”
