Page 8

Zoe

Two weeks later…

NOAH: Tell me there’s grip tape. All the tape, Z. New grip tape???

ZOE: You barely use it, N.

NOAH: I use it. But you know I looove new tape, Z. Especially at the beginning of the season. It’s like getting a warm hug from the equipment staff.

ZOE: Ok, Olaf.

NOAH: Z! I need to know if there’s grip happiness ready for me.

NOAH: Does Walker use tape? Are we going to be tape bros?

ZOE: Doesn’t every position EXCEPT goalie use it? Of course he does, silly. And tape bros is too weird. Don’t use it. Try again. And I don’t know because he’s…Walker.

P reseason meant the training facility was empty, so I decided to take advantage and film a few random things to use later, along with pics to post in between now and the start of the season.

Noah was obsessed with the idea of welcoming Walker to the team, since he was ‘practically in the bestie circle by familial ties’ along with the other players who had been acquired after the end of last season.

My big brother wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information.

We didn’t grow up together, because our parents divorced when I was only three, and he was thirteen.

Walker spent most of his time with our dad because of hockey and traveling.

Not that our parents had any animosity toward each other, they just were busy with…

us. Walker loved me, just like I loved him, but he was a tough nut to crack.

I shook my head with a roll of my eyes and snapped a pic of the huge plastic round bins overflowing with new grip tape, all ready for the team to mess up and go through faster than Eden went through her Junior Mint stash.

Noah might not use a ton, but he loved his grip tape.

Goalies rarely added tape to their sticks because it added weight, but Noah didn’t care.

My big brother taped it for me after I had a terrible game and wanted to quit. He said it was magic. That tape and Brett is why I’m here, Z.

NOAH: HELL YES! Also, I’m calling it. Tape Bros Unite.

In a few weeks, both of our brothers would be here in Montreal.

My big brother, Walker, was traded days before training camp started to fill the gap in the Triumph’s D, and I couldn’t be happier.

I only hoped he kept his big brother vibes in check.

He knew about Noah, but he wasn’t convinced that our relationship was strictly platonic.

Noah LeCavalier became my best friend the day I locked my keys in my car.

Which, coincidentally, had been my very first day of my real job as Laney’s assistant in the PR department.

At least, I thought I locked them in. Turned out, when I left the office I shared with Laney and Chris, Laney’s other assistant, I put them on top of the tiny fridge Laney kept stocked with all kinds of sparkling waters and snacks from the commissary.

Locked in the building, and not my car. I stayed after everyone had left, putting my things away and familiarizing myself with the new roster and each player’s unique foundations or pet charities.

Internship, versus a position with the Triumph was as different as night and day in terms of the tasks and insanity of every day hockey business.

When I interned, I fetched coffee, La Croix, and scanned a few social media accounts to make sure everyone behaved along with a few other mundane tasks.

My workplace, more often than not, was in my car and nowhere near the facility or players.

But now? Laney entrusted the Triumph’s main Instagram account and one other social media site to my care, while Chris assisted her with the media and press wrangling.

All those reels of the walk-ins and favorite song posts?

All on me now. I loved every moment of it all.

Not only were we the last two people in the parking lot, but Marc, the team’s security head, left as soon as we walked out the door because he had to pick up his daughter from swim team practice across town.

As I let out a frustrated growl, Noah came up behind me, scaring me so badly, I swung my purse at him.

We met a few times, but with transitioning to my new position, the whirlwind meant very little conversation and more filming behind the scenes action to post at specific times to satisfy the algorithm.

“Woah, slugger! It’s me! Your favorite goalie. No serial killer or mugging in the parking lot with a hockey stick. Just tape.” He held up his equipment bag and a bag of takeout he had uber eats deliver after practice, well, as much as he could since it was slung over his shoulder and massive.

He was one of the only players who took anything home with him. Because taping was one of his rituals.

“Oh,” I breathed, heart racing, and winced. “Sorry.”

He chuckled, and once he realized I was stranded, offered to share his taco, salsa and chips with extra guacamole with me while we waited for someone to come up and let us back in. He called security once I realized where I left my keys, because my phone, of course had died.

Then we argued about who was right in Marvel’s Civil War, duh Cap, and the rest was history. I was a Cap fan. Noah? Stark. All the way.

Noah might’ve leaned a little towards Nat’s thinking after I argued with him over all the Mexican goodness he shared with me. And the rest was history. When he met Eden, it was like kismet.

A wave of guilt threatened to crash over me over my current position.

How I lied to Noah when he asked if I had run into his brother when I went to the beach for a week.

How I decided to sleep with Liam’s new coach, Noah’s freaking big brother, to get back at him for cheating on me. Lying to me. Dickhead.

My cheeks flushed as I thought about that night that bled into the morning and the multiple orgasms he rendered from my body like no one else ever had, or probably could again.

The hours I spent naked, whimpering, and begging my best friend’s older brother to revenge fuck me.

Not that Brett knew it was a revenge fuck.

I kept that little detail all to myself.

Even if no one, even Noah and Eden, our other bestie knew I had been dating the Triumph winger.

I doublechecked that I did indeed have my keys then got ready to leave, typing off one last text to Noah, lest he think I forgot about him.

ZOE: Tape is all safe and sound. Even hid a few in our secret spot.

NOAH: YES! on me! Or not tacos, but Indian Fusion?

I smirked because Noah never let either of us ever pay, and it had turned into a crazy competition to see who could grab the check before Noah made our favorite places put his card on file.

Stinker. I gave up on the hope of running into Brett, who was flying in, given the late hour. Maybe he had been delayed or, hell, changed his mind when he found out I was working in the same place. Which was impossible since I never gave him my name.

All that time curling my hair and winging the eyeliner for nothing. Not that I wanted anything. Right?

“Hey, Zoe, still here?” Marc asked with a grin as he came down the hall, extra bounce in his step.

The beginning of the season always had that magic, and everyone felt it.

Especially this year. Yep, ever since the night I lost my keys, the sweet and burly head of security checked in on me, making sure I not only had my keys, but that I never stayed in the building alone. Or at the arena.

“No rest for the wicked and social media. How’s Stassi liking school?”

He beamed with pride. His daughter swam for her college swim team and was on track to make the Canadian Olympic Team for the upcoming Games.

I was Team USA, but since Montreal was my second home, I cheered for my second home.

Especially Stassi. Marc was such a good guy, and loved his daughter with a fierceness and pride that almost converted me.

“Training. She called last night. Loves her dorm, but misses her mom.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, and then assured Marc I had my keys with a laugh.

EDEN: Dinner? Noah texted me. Usual place.

ZOE: Perfect. Tape day.

EDEN: No wonder he’s all hyper. Texted THREE times. See you soon. Love!

Eden’s hot pink and purple strands were easy to spot, even amidst the busy Thursday night crowd. She waved me over, and I weaved and bobbed until I reached the table. The spread on the table made my mouth water. My stomach growled in agreement.

Loudly.

Her eyes widened as she looked me up and down.

I glanced down at the outfit I painstakingly picked out.

Laney mentioned our new head coach was supposed to stop by and picked for his media packet.

Which included his iPad, press and arena team credentials, and other official business.

Then meet the rest of the staff. But, she sent a text, informing everyone Brett LeCavalier’s flight from Columbus had been delayed due to a mechanical failure.

Sigh. I wasted my favorite outfit.

Eden may have vibrant and crazily colored hair, but she was always impeccably put together. Adorable, sexy, and dressed in the cutest ensembles that fit her unique style. Today, it was a black off the shoulder sweater and white capri’s set off by hot pink kitten heels that matched her hair.

But, I was giving her a run for her money in my royal blue cropped top and matching pencil pants.

I shrugged as I sat down and breathed in all the yumminess.

“Laney is having us do team photos. Today was team colors profesh media day shoot, tomorrow is Triumph Pride. Preseason kick-off on the accounts.” And any day now, Brett would show up for his first day and heaven knows he’d probably hate me.

“These heels not only look killer, they are literally killing my poor feet.”

She snorted and wiggled her feet with a cheeky grin, then slid a full to the rim glass my way.

“Thought you might like this, takes the edge off. And,” her hazel eyes sparkled, “you might like that for later.” I followed the direction her finger pointed, my heart pounding in my chest, because some silly, romantic, way too horny part of me thought he would be here.

But instead of Brett LeCavalier’s gray eyes and scruff covered jawline, a pair of pale blue eyes and blond floppy hair winked back at me.

Sigh. No spark. Not even a tiny one. How pitiful am I?

No that I wanted to be attracted to my best friend, but even the hot guy at the bar wasn’t so…hot. Ugh.

“Sorry I’m late. I had to stop by the airport.” Noah said, a big grin on his face as he approached the table. “And fuck, am I hungry.” He reached for the apps Eden ordered before anyone showed up as he sat in the chair opposite me. She swatted at his hand with a playful growl. “Hey!”

“ Hey is right. You know this is your treat, right? But that doesn’t mean you get to steal my food!”

The goalie rolled his eyes, and repeated like it was from rote memory, “Last to arrive-”

“Pays the tab,” we all finished. His rule, run order to subvert any one else paying. Didn’t mean he left the drama behind, because we went through this song and dance every time.

“Why am I always the one picking up our dinners?” he grumbled with a teasing pout over the rim of his water glass before draining it all in one gulp.

“One,” I said, ticking the reason off on my finger, “you get paid more than Eden and I ever will.”

“And two,” Eden added, “you’re always late, Noah. Plus you gave them your damn card so we wouldn’t pay. Remember?”

He glared at her until she relented and let him grab one of the loaded Indian butter chicken fries that everyone in town obsessed over with a grin.

“I take care of my friends, what can I say? Plus, what if some douchebag tried to pay for your food, then hit on you, and no one came to rescue? It’s my solemn duty.

” He popped a fry dripping with all the fixings dripping off it in his mouth and groaned.

“Fuck, I love these. There has to be crack in them. Or maybe some elicit drug that could fuck me over if I get tested, but I don’t care. ”

Eden and I shared a look because Noah loved hockey more than anything in the world.

So much so that he ignored the opposite sex, no matter how often they threw themselves at him.

The girls loved Noah, but he loved hockey.

In the three years I knew him, he’d had one serious relationship that ended when Tory decided she didn’t want to compete with the net.

After that, he focused on training, the game, and the community outreach the players all took part in.

“Better than sex,” Eden agreed. Her head tilted, a calculating gleam in her eyes. “Don’t you think, Zoe?”

I shot her a glare. “I couldn’t say, Eden.”

Relentless, she asked, “What about the guy from this summer?”

For the first time since we met, I flushed bright red talking to my best friend, who was more of a girlfriend than Eden sometimes. Because that great sex Eden referred to was with his brother.

“These,” I said as I jabbed a fry covered with deliciousness at her, “are better than any old sex I could ever dream of having.”

“Even if the sex happened during the greatest night of your life?”