Page 4 of No Rhyme or Roughing (The Golden Guardians Hockey Hearts #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

RYDER

Sydney Valentine.

I’d hit on Sydney fucking Valentine.

My first thought when I realized it was that Teddy couldn’t find out. Best friends or not, some things were just not okay.

Now, as I sat in my room at his house, I couldn’t get the image of her standing uncertain in the street, looking like every fantasy come to life. Maybe I had a problem with shy women. It was like an aphrodisiac. She wasn’t a little girl anymore, that much was clear.

I groaned and laid back to stare at the blank ceiling.

Maybe it had been too long since I’d gotten laid.

Or maybe it was the frustration of yet another loss in yet another nearly empty building.

Either way, I couldn’t sleep—not without feeling like a total jackass for pulling out a pickup line on a kid I’d once claimed as my own sister.

Having only Sullivan as a sibling would have been lonely after what he did if not for Teddy. While Teddy used to get annoyed that little Sydney followed us around, I’d let her do whatever she wanted. She’d had me wrapped around her tiny finger.

The last time I saw her, she’d been in pigtails, tears rolling down her cheeks as I left for college. I hadn’t looked back, not once, until I returned to the Bay Area thinking my career was over. Then came the phone call with one final chance to play.

A last year or two had somehow turned into three.

Reaching toward the bedside table, I grabbed my phone to check the time. Just after midnight. With a sigh, I sat up again, staring at my blank walls. In the years I’d been here, I hadn’t put up a single picture or bought any decorations. Teddy hadn’t asked why. He knew.

There were only two people in my life I’d showcase—Mom and Teddy.

I liked to keep them in my head, in my heart.

I didn’t need pictures to remember the importance of my small family.

Dad died when I was little, but I had no memories of him.

It had always just been Mom, my brother, and the Valentines.

Sydy.

The girl currently lying down on her brother’s couch.

That wasn’t right. I grabbed my pillow off the bed and shuffled into the hall. The place was huge, with three bedrooms and two living rooms. It spanned three bamboo floors and included every luxury. Basically, a guy like me didn’t belong in Alameda, let alone a house like this.

Down on the main floor, I entered the living room, careful to keep my steps light in case she was asleep. Sydney lay on her stomach, blonde hair shielding her face. She wore baggy pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt with holes along the hem. Thank God for that.

“Is someone there?” Her voice was so soft it startled me.

I cleared my throat. “I… uh…”

Shifting onto her back, she pushed light strands of hair out of her face and reached for the lamp to turn it on. All traces of makeup had been washed away, and for the first time, I saw hints of the little girl I’d known. Not in a creepy way, but a familiar one. It immediately put me at ease.

“Comfortable?” I asked.

She grimaced then shrugged. “I’m okay.”

“It’s good to see you again, Sydney.” I lowered myself onto the admittedly terrible couch, taking care to maintain a respectable distance between us.

“You can take my room.” I gestured to the pillow I still held.

“That’s what I came out here to say. I didn’t like the idea of you sleeping on the couch. ”

She studied me for a moment that stretched far too long. “Some things never change.”

“What does that mean?”

She shrugged again, like she had more to say but decided against it. That wasn’t the Sydy I’d known. She’d been outspoken, loud, and boisterous. Not this quiet ghost .

I shrugged, reminding myself a lot of time had passed. “I’m still an asshole.”

Her laughter filled the space between us. “No. You never were that.”

I wasn’t known as the nicest guy on the team or with fans, but I was honest and reliable.

I knew how to motivate my teammates and make our fans believe in false hopes.

Over the years of disappointment in my career, all I’d wanted was to play hockey.

Since Sam, relationships felt like distractions unless they were with my team.

Friendships were too much work if I hadn’t known the person already—like Teddy.

Maybe that was why the guys deferred to me even before I got the C.

Sure, when I first signed with the team, it was only because Mr. Mac, the team’s owner, called.

As my father’s oldest friend, the one who’d taken me under his wing young, there was no denying the man.

Or maybe they knew hockey was all I had, so it got every part of me.

“Did I lose you?” A tentative smile played on her lips.

A thought occurred to me. “Did Teddy see your car tonight?” I’d checked it when I got home. The damage was minor, but noticeable.

One shoulder lifted. “You know how observant he is.”

As in, not at all.

I laughed. “He wouldn’t notice a dancing gorilla if it jumped on the ice. We could screw right here on this couch in front of him, and he’d—” My voice trailed off as she met my gaze. A rosy color spread across her cheeks.

I coughed, looking away .

“Sorry.” I winced. “I forgot who you were for a moment. I think I’m just tired. I need some sleep. Early skate tomorrow after the loss.” Lies. All lies. I couldn’t stop yearning to hear her soft voice say something meaningful, anything more than this casual politeness she’d adopted.

She jumped to her feet. “Oh, I’m keeping you up. Are you sure I can take your room?”

“Are you trying to talk me out of it? I’m being chivalrous here.”

She laughed softly. “Thank you. I’ll walk away now before I end up turning you down. It. Turning it down.” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.

It was all I could do not to laugh at her. Was she nervous, or was this who she’d become?

She pressed her lips together, holding back further words, gave me one final look, and turned toward the stairs.

Only after she was gone did I realize I wasn’t wearing a shirt. In fact, all I had on were my Pikachu boxers.

Teddy was going to murder me.

Morning came too early, and practice was brutal. By the time we finished the bag skate, my legs were almost too heavy to walk. I leaned back on the bench in front of my locker, waiting for enough energy to get into the shower.

“You good, bro?” Rowan sat beside me, looking like he hadn’t just skated in full goalie gear. I didn’t know how he did it .

“Yeah.” I bent over, resting my elbows on my knees. “A bit tired today.”

He was quiet for a moment, very un-Rowan-like. “I noticed you were on the couch this morning.”

I shrugged. “Chivalry, Ro.”

A laugh barked out of him. “Sure. I also noticed something else this morning—Sydney’s car looks like it’s been hit.” He eyed me curiously, and I knew exactly what he was thinking. I’d told them about the girl I ran into, the one I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

“So, it does.”

“What’s the deal with Teddy’s sister?” Julian Nightshade, my opposite winger, sent me a grin. “You know if she’s single, Cap?”

I got to my feet without thinking, but before I got to him, Teddy appeared out of nowhere, grabbing the back of Julian’s jersey and dragging him toward the showers. He shoved him inside and turned on the water, huffing, “Stay away from my sister.”

I joined the rest of the team in laughter, trying to ignore the uneasiness in my gut. Teddy marched out into the locker room, sending a glare around the room. “That goes for all of you. If anyone so much as touches her, you’ll have me and Ryder to answer to.”

I jerked at him bringing me into it, but he wasn’t wrong. Teammates or not, captain or not, I’d wreck them.

Keaton O’Connor—or “Keats,” as we called him because of his obsession with the poet—put a hand to his chest. “Love is my religion. I would die for it.”

And he would. Die, I meant. If he got too close to Sydney and Teddy found out .

“All right, all right.” I stood, clapping a hand on Keats’s shoulder. “No need for all this animosity among teammates.” I sent Teddy a cool down look. “Let’s all agree to treat Teddy’s sister with respect. That means even you, Mr. Poet Man.”

Keats sighed. “Alas, another maiden will miss my treasures.”

The guys snickered, a few murmuring “treasures.” We were all dicks, but they were the best dicks I knew.

Dragging myself toward the shower room, I stripped off my sweat-soaked shirt and stepped out of the rest of my clothes. The spray soothed my aching muscles, but I didn’t stay under it for long before I heard someone calling my name.

“Where is Cassidy?” Frankie, one of the assistant coaches, yelled.

Towel wrapped around my hips, I walked into the room.

Frankie didn’t bother averting her eyes and didn’t seem to notice any of the guys’ states of undress.

It was one of the first things I noticed about her when I joined the team.

She only saw us as hockey players, not men. I figured it made her job easier.

“Yeah, Coach?” I liked Frankie and respected her methods. She ran the power play, the only efficient part of our game.

“Mr. Mac is asking for you.”

“Why?”

As a kid, when Mr. Macintosh picked me up from school, I knew I was in trouble.

Mom would call him after Teddy and I pulled one of our many stunts, and he was a master lecturer.

It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I appreciated how much he cared about me.

He’d loved my dad like a brother, despite being much older than him, and keeping me in line was his way of holding on to that connection.

The other guys steered clear of me after that announcement. Only Teddy knew my connection to the man. The rest only saw their captain getting called to daddy’s office. Sometimes, I caught them calling him Mac Daddy, but knowing the man, he’d probably find it hilarious.

I dressed quickly and headed to the executive floor of the arena. Mr. Mac was on the board of several tech companies, but he’d sold his firm long ago and now kept an office here.

His office was the nicest part of the entire arena. This was my third time inside it. Dark walls, a beautiful oak desk, and the most comfortable plush chairs I’d ever sat on. He was seated on one when I knocked on the open door.

Lowering the paper he was reading, he looked at me with the same intensity he’d always had. I could never hide anything from the man. He could sniff out lies like a bloodhound. A smile spread across his lips as he folded the newspaper.

“Ryder. It sure is good to see you, boy.”

I doubted I’d ever stop being a boy to him.

He stood to greet me and yanked me into a rough hug. “I swear, kid, the older you get, the more you look like him. For a moment, I thought Drake was back in my doorway.”

Talk of my father always left me uncomfortable. I’d always wanted to know more, but some of what I’d learned wasn’t flattering—like how he cheated on my mom.

I pulled away. “You asked me to come up, sir.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He settled back into the chair, and I took the one across from him. An array of drinks sat on the table before us. “Want something?”

“Water?”

He grabbed a plastic bottle and launched it at me, laughing when I fumbled to catch it.

I twisted off the cap and took a long drink, watching as his smile faded. I knew the man well. His bravado was always an act when something was wrong, something he didn’t want to say.

“What is it, old man?” I dropped the pretense of player and owner, needing normalcy.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. “We’re in trouble, Ryder. My partners want to sell the team.”