My teammates were mostly gone by the time I finished up with the press conference, and the arena had emptied of fans. Only a few had been allowed by security to remain behind. When I emerged with my things, my parents and some of my siblings and their partners were waiting to congratulate me.

  “Not bad, little bro.” Dax smacked me on the shoulder with more force than was necessary. “Had me worried there during some of those penalty kills. Don’t know how you stand the pressure when they come at you firing like that.”

  “The pads help.” I joked as I hugged my mother and father.

  “Really proud of you.” Echo beamed, as she launched herself at me. I caught my sister easily and squeezed her tight. Cole’s greeting was more subdued, but still happy as he clapped me on the back.

  “Gage was impressed,” our mother told me. “Your father’s phone was going off every few seconds with text messages from him.”

  “I put my phone off during the game,” Dax said. “Switched it back on and I had about twenty messages from Bryce.”

  “You did well, son,” Dad said with a quiet steadiness and a light squeeze to my shoulder. Shit, it was good to see him.

  “That was good today. Imagine what you could do with another sport,” said Gramps.

  I didn’t take it personally. I just rolled my eyes.

  Gramps had a knack for making everyone around him feel childish, if only because of how his own adolescent, provoking nature inspired them to react.

  “I wonder where Sasha went,” My mother took Dad’s arm and started leading the group slowly out of the private box. “She sat with us.”

  My gaze darted to Dax who shook his head to convey that he’d said nothing.

  “You know Sasha, she had to be here for Fox, but then she had to run to work,” Echo explained, even as she slid me some serious side-eye.

  “She just had her first story air for the station she works with,” Dax spoke up, his gaze fixed on me. “Here…let me pull it up on my phone. Echo sent it to me.” Dax played the story for our parents while I fought the urge to smack my brother in the back of the head.

  “It’s really well done,” Asha commented when the clip was over. “The narrative flows well, and she had someone who knew what they were doing helping with the camera angles and editing.”

  “She must be so excited, Fox.” Mom said with a proud smile. “She did this for an internship? And it got picked to air? That’s impressive. I wonder why she didn't say anything.”

  “Sasha is all about Fox when he plays. Every superstitious thing you can think of, she does. Everything she’s ever done for any of his games that has worked. She wasn’t going to break tradition and start bragging during his big game,” Echo said. “She wouldn’t want the attention on her.”

  I got the message, loud and clear. Sasha had been there for me, wearing my jersey, my hat, and no doubt eating a banana during each period. It was something she’d done in one high school game where I’d killed it. From that point on, she did it every game.

  But outside of the mentions of how proud everyone was about Sasha’s accomplishment, no one else had anything to say about the content beyond the depth of research Sasha must have put into crafting it, and how well she negotiated such tricky and sensitive interviews. Asha was particularly vocal about her admiration for Sasha’s talent, and she pressed me with questions about her prospects after graduation. She proved enough of a distraction to our parents for me and Dax to have a few minutes of quiet conversation.

  “Why did you bring up that video?” I whispered.

  “Do you think they wouldn’t have come across it on their own? I’m surprised Gramps hadn’t sent it to Dad already. You know Sasha’s grandfather must’ve sent it to him.”

  “And you’re trying to make sure they know she did that story about me?”

  “Quit being an asshole,” Dax hissed. “I said nothing about you when I was showing it to them, and obviously they didn’t think it was about you because it really isn’t. Just look at how she did it. There’s absolutely no reference to you personally. And even if you were her inspiration as far as subject matter, you haven’t fallen into the patterns she describes. Today’s game proves that.”

  “Today’s game proves nothing,” I said. “I’ve had two starts—that’s hardly—”

  “You’ve started with two wins, and one of them was a particularly impressive one,” Dax interrupted. “From the look on your coach’s face, he was pleased with how you did. There’s no way that Henri guy can take a long string of consecutive starts. Not the way your old goalie could. So they’re not going to be sending you back down any time soon.” He leaned closer to me and whispered loudly, “And if what Asha overheard when she was chatting with her contacts in the PR group is true, you’re going to be offered a decent contract pretty soon.”

  I rolled my eyes at the smirk on Dax’s face. “That doesn’t change—”

  “Oh, get over yourself already and make up with Sasha. Or is she still pissed at you for that—” he looked around and spoke even quieter than he already was “—photo mix-up? I told Echo to tell her that I didn’t even look at them, but if you want me to tell her that myself, just let me know. You two seemed to have a good thing going. Don’t screw it up.”

  “There was nothing to screw up. And if there was, I already did it. She said when she broke up with her last boyfriend and kicked him out that she didn’t want a relationship. They’re distracting, and time consuming, and just… She was right. I need to focus on my playing—I’ve done well, and I need to keep going if—”

  “If what? You’re where you want to be, and a big part of that is because you’ve had Sasha supporting you.”

  “They’re offering me that contract because I had some good games. What if I fuck up?”

  “They’ve had their eyes on you for this position for a while,” Dax reminded me. “You’ve had some good games, but you’ve also had good practices and good numbers for the team you were on. You’re improving because you’ve been able to think beyond the ice for a while. Trust me, Fox—Sasha has been helping you. You’re more relaxed when you get to see her and spend time with her.” I held up my hands. “Whatever capacity that may be, I don’t need the juicy details or any more photos. You’re more sure of yourself. Don’t blow that because you’re too stupid to apologize and tell her how you feel.”

  “She… she said…” But I couldn’t bring myself to voice it aloud to my brother.

  “What do you say, Fox?” our father said, breaking into our conversation.

  “What do I say to what?”

  “We want to take you out to dinner to celebrate,” our mother reiterated, while Asha eyed Dax for not having paid attention.

  “Actually, Mom,” Dax said before I could open my mouth, “Fox was talking about how he’s running late to meet up with Sasha. She’s got some work thing she invited him to, I believe.” He ignored my glare.

  “Oh, well, tell her we saw the video, and that we’re thrilled for her. She’s incredibly talented,” Mom said. “We’ll simply pick another day to treat you to dinner. Maybe some time when we can get everyone home.”

  “I’d like that,” I agreed. “And thanks again for coming. It means a lot.”

  “Don’t argue,” Dax whispered in my ear as we briefly embraced before parting. “Just go and talk to her.”

  Maybe Dax was right. I headed toward the player’s exit, when someone called out to me.

  “Hey, Fox.”

  I stopped short at the sight of the bleached blonde in front of me. She had big tits and a smooth, flat belly. She wore a short skirt that barely covered her ass, if it did at all. This was my usual type. Not that I preferred this type, but it was what was usually available. And given I wasn’t usually much into having deep conversations, it had worked. But not anymore. Someone had to work hard to impress me now. This kind of girl had zero appeal.

  “Oh, hey.”

  She smiled up at me, putting a hand on my chest.

  I sidestepped, attempting to make it down the gangway. I wanted to get to my car so I could go find Sasha. “Sorry, I have to get going.”

  She followed behind, her heels clicking on the cement. “You remember me, don’t you?”

  Damn. Had I fucked her? It was entirely possible. How many times after a game had the team celebrated? There were plenty of girls around all the time, just dying to latch themselves onto some future professional hockey player. “I'm sorry. I don’t. What's your name again?”

  She frowned and pouted those high-gloss pink lips. “I'm Jocelyn. We met about three months ago? I stayed over your place.”

  I vaguely remembered a blonde who’d come back to Martin’s with me. Martin had gone home with a girl he’d picked up. And they’d been busy pounding the bed into the wall.

  By contrast, the guest bedroom I had stayed in only had a mattress on the floor. Still, we had worked that mattress out. But I hadn’t meant to let her stay.

  “I'm sorry. I am really shitty with faces.” Oh yeah, slick.

  “It's okay. Really.”

  Oh, thank God. I wasn’t prepared to remember her or her face, or exactly what we had been up to at Martin’s place. I shot her a polite smile, scooted around her, and kept walking.

  She practically had to run to keep up. “I just wanted to say congratulations. I remember you, and the guys were talking about when you were going to make it big. And now you have. I was thinking maybe you and I could go celebrate the game. It was really good.”

  I understood now. She’d watched the game, and thought, Hey, he let me stay over. I must have been important to him, so let me attach myself and leach onto him as much as possible.

  I slowed my pace. “Look, Jocelyn. The thing is, I was a completely different guy then.”

  She frowned, her brows furrowing as if she was trying to comprehend my words. But still, I pressed on. “I honestly don't remember you. Which I know is terrible, and I feel bad. And, you seem like a nice girl, so I’m going to give you the truth. I’m totally into someone else.” That was the truth. I needed to get to Sasha as soon as possible.

  Jocelyn stopped walking and called after me. “So there’s no chance that you’d like to have a repeat? I’m very good, and I already know what you like.”

  I had to laugh. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got someone else in mind.”

  She faltered a little when we reached the opening to the parking lot, but nodded. “Okay, I get it. Is there anyone on the team that you think might be interested?”

  I sighed. This wasn't about me at all. She was trying to work her way up. “No, but you know what, I don't think you need any of those guys. I’m sure you can figure out life on your own.”

  She smiled up at me. “That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

  I certainly hoped not. But before I knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around me, stood on tiptoe, and kissed me on the lips. I immediately stepped back, and she smiled. “Thank you. You really are very sweet.” Then all I could do was turn to watch her walk away, wobbling in her heels as she did so. I used the back of my hand to wipe the sticky, gooey lip gloss off my mouth.

  I hated that stuff. I preferred whatever it was that Sasha used.

  When I turned back to the parking lot, my heart stopped.

  Sasha was waiting for me at the end of the gangway. She had a sign that said, Congratulations, let’s go fuck! Holy shit. I had missed her so much. But even now as she held up her sign, her face was stricken with sadness. Then she turned and walked away. I stood there, confused for a moment, but then realized what she’d seen.

  Fuck. Jocelyn. “Sasha, wait. It’s not what it looks like.”

  Sasha was surprisingly quick, and she wasn’t encumbered by hockey gear. So she climbed into her car and was gone before I could catch her.

  Shit. Shit. How had I gotten all of this so screwed up?

  Well, are you going to feel bad for yourself, or are you going to go get your girl?

  That wasn’t even a question. I ran to my car and threw my stuff in the trunk. Now all I had to do was figure out where Sasha was going, because I wasn’t going to let her walk away.

  18

  Sasha

  When I returned to the office, Ryan was waiting at my cubicle. He was hovering near my desk when I arrived, and immediately congratulated me on the success of my story and apologized for the way he’d handled our breakup.

  “We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean trying to hurt each other,” he said. “But now that we’ve had some time apart and now that you’re closer to getting your degree, I think we can do better. That we can make it work and get back to the way things were between us in the beginning.”

  Seriously? I didn’t need this shit right now. “You might have said things you didn’t mean,” I quipped, “but I meant every word. Now, unless you want me repeating a few of them for your friends to hear, leave me alone.”

  “Come on, Sasha,” he pleaded, following me as I sat at my desk and began sorting through the leftover paperwork from my story. I decided to hold on to the sources I cited directly and have a separate file for those that had proved interesting additional reading, tossing the remaining ones in a bin to be recycled.

  “Is this about the apartment? I shouldn’t have bailed on it like that and left you to take care of the rent on your own, okay? Your name was the only one on the lease, but you and I did have an understanding. I should’ve just…taken the other bedroom or something—helped you find a new roommate. If you need help with it, I’d be happy to come home again, or at least help out with the bills while we figure this out.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” I said, continuing my attempts to ignore him. “It’s taken care of.”

  His brows snapped down. “What the hell does that mean?”

  I met his gaze directly. “It means I don’t need your help financially or otherwise, and I don’t want your company. I said what I needed to say when I threw you out. Now please, don’t make this any more embarrassing for yourself than it needs to be,” I said in a low voice. A quick glance at the clock showed the appointed hour for everyone to head out and celebrate was fast approaching. I knew from previous gatherings that my colleagues would soon start congregating near my cubicle to chat and wait before heading out en masse.

  “So you were fucking some other guy,” Ryan muttered beneath his breath.

  I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but I smiled evilly and said, “Not till after I kicked you out, and that’s not how I would describe it, but…yeah. There’s someone I care about—more than I cared about you, if you really want to know the truth. I’m not sure where it’s going—if anywhere—but I’m certainly not getting back together with you, so… Leave. Me. Alone.” My anger and frustration with Ryan were keeping me from crumpling at the thought of Fox and the shambles of our friendship.

  Ryan clearly had more he wanted to say, and judging by the color of his face, it wasn’t anything pleasant. So I was thankful when Jeanine and a few others came over with their coats over their arms, ready to go.

  “Everything all right?” Jeanine asked, her gaze flitting between me and Ryan.

  “Yeah,” I assured her, as I pushed my chair back and rose to start cleaning up my desk. “Ryan was just explaining that he had a small family emergency and can’t make it tonight. His aunt’s gone into the hospital and needs him to stop by her house and grab a few things for her.” I stacked my piles of paperwork together to create more coherent long-term files later.

  He glared at me when I looked up at him and raised my brows in a dare. If he denied my lie, I’d have an opportunity to explain why I had essentially uninvited him, and he had to know that I would be thorough in my reasoning.

  “Yeah, she, uh…she had a bit of a fall. Nothing too serious, but they want to keep her overnight,” Ryan lied. “I’m closest, so it’s easy for me to swing by and grab her a change of clothes, make sure all her doors are locked, that sort of thing.”

  “Well, I hope she feels better soon,” Jeanine said with a note of dismissal. The others offered their best wishes for Ryan’s aunt as well, their words effectively ushering him away.

  “Thanks for that,” I whispered to Jeanine.

  “No problem. I wouldn’t want my ex at a celebratory dinner like this, either,” I whispered back.

  “Who’re we waiting on?” Allison from the main research team asked, looking around.

  “I kind of invited some of the guys from sports,” I mentioned.

  “Okay, but this dinner is not about talking shop,” Jeanine reminded me. “It’s about celebrating the work you’ve already done.”

  There was a bit of commotion down the hall, and the women collectively turned to see the guys from sports approaching, but there was one too many of them. They were crowded around Fox, who was politely smiling and dodging their questions about the contract rumors, explaining that he hadn’t been in touch with his agent and anything like that would go through his agent and manager first. His eyes locked on me, and my pulse ticked up. He looked too good. Tattoos on full display. Looking like a total badass. He didn’t have the bleached blonde with him, so that was something. If he was here to yell at me, I was in no kind of mood.

  “Fox,” I managed to croak, as my friends’ and colleagues’ eyes darted back and forth between us. “Congrats on the game earlier. You were amazing. Sorry we couldn’t talk after. You were clearly busy, and I had to get back.”

  “Uh…thanks, Sash. Could we, uh… Do you think I could talk with you for a minute? Privately…?”

  “Um…” I glanced around.

  “If this is the whole party,” Jeanine stepped in, “we can call ahead and let them know we’re on our way. There, uh…there might be a bit of a wait with a party of this size, so take as long as you need.”

  I nodded and led Fox through the knot of my coworkers in search of an empty room where he could say his piece. I was a little scared, thinking that maybe that he wanted to let me know that he was moving out. That he’d be by to pick up his stuff the next day, and that living together had been a bad idea. Or worse, he was sleeping with the blonde. I didn’t want to go back to where we’d been before, but I’d rather have his friendship than nothing. It would kill me, but I could do it.