Page 11 of No Rhyme or Roughing (The Golden Guardians Hockey Hearts #1)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SYDNEY
Avoidance. I was fucking brilliant at it. A glorious mess of a person who ran—well, walked quickly. I wasn’t much of a runner, never had been. Instead, I preferred a good speed-walk or a two-step retreat from my problems.
Especially from the gigantic, gorgeous hunk of a problem living in my brother’s house. I wasn’t someone who forgot things, sober or… not-so-sober. Instead, I relived them in my head repeatedly.
Coming onto Ryder.
How much I’d wanted him.
Rejection.
Hangover hell.
Such was life.
Traffic was a nightmare crossing the Bay Bridge, and I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel.
I may not have been able to look at Ryder since climbing him like a very hot beanpole, but I didn’t want to miss the game tonight—or miss seeing if he’d actually go through with the plan. Plus, I was integral to it.
A dancing hockey player was only a fool on skates if no one saw him. But if broadcast to the world? Then, he could be both the butt of every joke and the object of fascination. He’d hate that, but it would put asses in seats at the arena.
My phone rang, and I picked it up without looking. “Teddy, I’m on my way.” He was the only one who normally called incessantly, and this was the third time it had rung in five minutes.
“Not sure who Teddy is, but is he hot?” That familiar voice, the one that had whispered in my ear as he… I shook myself.
“Jameson.” My voice was hoarse. “Aren’t you a giant rock star on tour or something?”
He chuckled, lighter than the last time I’d seen him weeks ago. “Or something. Look, I don’t have much time, but I miss you.”
“You miss me?” A smile slid across my lips. Working for Jameson had been a fucking good—no, great—time.
“Not the point. I have a show starting soon, but…” He sighed. “There’s this reporter.”
“Who do I need to kill?” Whatever we were now, I’d go to war for that man. We might not have loved each other, but we were friends. It was one of the few friendships I’d made in L.A. He’d broken me out of my shell after I left home .
“Down, girl.” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “For once in your life, can you listen to me and not word-vomit?”
My car inched forward, and I kept quiet.
“Syd?”
“I’m listening.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Imagine my shock.” He paused. “There’s a reporter with a story. About us.”
I held back a curse. I’d never wanted a spotlight, any spotlight.
The shadows were where I belonged, where I felt comfortable.
That’s why I’d been fine with being Jameson’s secret—his too-curvy-for-the-red-carpet fling.
I’d been using him as much as he’d used me, even if I sometimes wondered if there could be more.
Then, I found him with that dancer, and it was a relief.
Jameson continued, “One of my dancers—ex-dancers, I fired her for unrelated reasons—went to the press about our relationship.”
“How could she?—”
“Money,” he cut off my anger. “It’s always money.”
“Shit.” I blew out a breath. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He sounded tired, not mad. “It was bound to come out eventually that I was sleeping with someone who worked for me, and honestly, I’m not the one who’ll face consequences.”
I froze. As a self-proclaimed feminist, Jameson always said things like this, but they’d never directly affected me before. He was right. A man sleeping with his choreographer might raise eyebrows, but a female choreographer sleeping with her client? That would damage her career.
I pulled the phone away from my face for a moment.
“Have a good show tonight, Jameson.” I hung up, trying to breathe. Was this career suicide? Probably not. Would future clients look at me differently? Absolutely.
I never wanted people looking at me at all. Or talking to me.
My hands clenched around the steering wheel, and I cursed my stupidity. I hadn’t even gotten any orgasms out of the deal. Jameson wasn’t exactly generous in that department. Fucking rock stars.
Traffic eased, and I left the bridge behind.
By the time I got to the arena, my brain was fried from thinking of all the ways this could go wrong.
But the moment I walked inside and felt the chill of the ice, there was no more time to dwell on the upcoming report about my semi-romance with a rock star.
I’d always been good at compartmentalizing—that was how I changed every part of me Mom criticized.
Then, I thought of Ryder, waiting for the game to start, waiting to take a giant leap. I practically threw my phone at the ticket taker to let me in. I skidded to a halt on the main concourse as the unmistakable sounds of hockey drifted over me.
Crap. No good luck talk for Ryder, no pep talk. He was on his own. Well, not completely. I had to get in place before the first long stoppage in play.
Turning, I sprinted toward the sound booth, where I found Bailey, the in-game entertainment lead, hunched over her soundboard. She wore giant headphones and had her blond curls shoved into a low ponytail.
I’d never met her, but Ryder said she’d help if I convinced her. Waving my arms, I tried to get her attention.
Nothing .
“Bailey!” I shouted.
Still nothing.
Someone walked up behind me—golden fur brushed my arm. Shai, still in her dog costume, dipped low into Bailey’s field of vision.
Finally, Bailey lifted her head and removed her headphones. She looked at me like she’d had no one try to speak to her before, her bright green eyes wide. She clasped and unclasped her hands, patting one against her leg as if she couldn’t be still.
“Hey,” I said lamely, holding out a USB stick. “Can you play this at the first stoppage?”
“Um.” She looked from me to the giant dog and back. “No.”
“Please? It’s for the team, to help them.” I’d never been good at the right words, but this had to work. The only other option was tying her up and doing it myself.
Shai removed the golden retriever head, her sweaty hair sticking to her forehead. “You’re not doing that,” she said dryly.
I hadn’t realized I’d said that out loud.
Shai turned a gentle gaze on Bailey. “Please, Bails? This is Teddy’s sister. It’s just one song.”
“What is it?” Bailey asked.
“A mix I did,” I said. I’d spent a lot of time making mixes and mashups. This was one of my best.
Bailey sighed and took the USB. “Okay.” She slid her headphones back on and ignored us again.
Shai grabbed my arm and led me out.
“She agreed just to make us go away, didn’t she?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” Shai tucked her mascot head under her arm as we headed toward my seat. “What was that about?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I sped up.
“Sydney,” she called after me.
I turned, walking backward. “Just make sure to be out there at the first stoppage.”
Then, I started running. All the way to my section, down the steps to the fourth row, where I had the perfect line of sight for my camera.
Another woman already sat there, and damn, she was stunning—slim curves, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, looking like a wild fae who’d wandered in from the forest.
Something hot spread through me, but it vanished as the boards jolted.
Ryder slammed an opposing player into them, but when he caught sight of me and the woman near me, something in his reaction changed.
Momentarily dazed, he got shoved backward and landed on his butt before jumping up and skating off after the puck.
“Well,” the other woman said, “that was something.”
I laughed, her low voice putting me at ease. There were a few seats between us. “You a Guardians fan?”
“By default,” she said with a shrug. I wasn’t sure what that meant. “You?”
“New fan.”
“They need as many as they can get.” There was no judgment in her tone, only worry. Why would she worry about attendance if she wasn’t really a fan?
“They’ll be fine.”
She hummed, lips pursed. “Sorry, I’m being rude. I’ve lived in the Bay Area for a while now, and this is the first game I’ve been allowed to attend. ”
“Allowed?”
She offered a sheepish look. “I begged. In truth, I’ve always been close to the game, even played in college.”
“Then, why’d you have to beg to come?”
“My fiancé is one of the coaches.” She pointed behind us. “He’s the goalie coach, so he watches from the press box.”
Goalie coach.
Fiancé.
Oh, shit. “You’re Sam,” I blurted, realizing too late I’d have to explain myself.
Her brow furrowed. “You with one of the guys on the team?”
“No,” I said quickly, coughing. “No, absolutely not.”
One eyebrow arched.
“Brother,” I clarified, pointing to where Teddy now had the puck. I wanted to cheer, but the sound caught in my throat.
“Ah, one of Teddy Valentine’s infamous sisters.” She laughed. “I’ve known him a long time.”
I wanted to escape, to make her stop talking. This was the woman who broke the Cassidy twins apart. Both in love with the same girl, and she chose the wrong one.
But as I studied her, trying to find what Ryder had loved, I saw only beauty and kind eyes. Damn it, I couldn’t hate her.
Instead, I scooted over until we sat side by side. “Well, I’m glad you chose this game to see.” A sly smile curved my lips. Ryder was going to have every girl in here eating out of the palm of his hand tonight.
Especially the one who scorned him.
“Just wait,” I said.