Page 20 of Reputation (Toronto Royals #1)
Chapter Thirteen
Jax
He’d fucked up—badly.
Jax had known the second the words came out of his mouth that day after the team meeting. The way her eyes turned hard, and her perfect mouth settled into a pout told him he’d said the absolute wrong thing.
Not that he’d needed her reaction to tell him that.
Jax had wanted to take the words back as soon as he’d spoken them.
He had no idea why he’d acted as he had.
That guy wasn’t who he was. He wanted, no, needed, her to know that.
He’d panicked as he stood staring into her gorgeous, intelligent eyes.
The second he’d been within touching range of her, his body reacted, ready and excited to have her near again.
His mind had then overreacted to the intense reactions toward her. Like a protective shield, his media persona had come out to protect his withered heart.
It hadn’t helped that he’d been foolish enough to listen to The Breakaway Zone podcast that morning on the way in. The comments from the hosts, who also happened to be sports reporters, about his career and the worthiness of his skills had left him with a sore jaw from clenching his teeth.
His comment to her had been a reflex, one he employed with women, the media, or anyone outside his team and family.
He’d regretted it instantly, but apparently, the experience hadn’t been enough to stop him from acting like a fool around her repeatedly. Now he was paying for his royal fuck-ups.
Twice more now, he’d dug himself a hole so deep he would be lucky if she ever looked at him without the flash of ice in her eyes. He worried that his armor, manifesting in an ulterior personality, had damaged his image in her eyes so badly that he would never redeem himself.
Sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands folded casually between them, Jax resisted the urge to check the time on his Tag Heuer watch.
Adding to his already confusing actions toward her, it also bothered him that his focus wasn’t entirely on business.
Instead, he was tuned into where she sat on the other side of the door.
He usually had an uncanny ability to block out all the noise, literally and figuratively, when it came to hockey. Still, like during their second home game when he knew she was in the box watching, his thoughts kept slipping over to her.
Trying to keep his focus on the meeting, he listened to Sam’s summary of what he’d observed of the team in the first three games.
While it was still early in the season, things changed quickly in the world of hockey.
If someone was not performing as expected, management wouldn’t be afraid to make changes.
Your spot on a team was only as good as your game.
If you didn’t perform or made too many mistakes, you could be benched, sent down, or traded, and a new player would be in your spot before you made it to your car.
It was partly why Cinderella’s ability to pull his focus irritated him.
He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes or let his team down as their captain.
At this point in his career, with no championships and the price tag of his contract, it didn’t matter how many trophies and accolades he’d won.
His name could be on the cut list if he screwed up.
Her ability to distract him when he prided himself on his tunnel vision both shocked and annoyed him.
“I’ve seen some good moves from our offense, and while I’d like to see the lines be more aggressive in the zone,” Sam said, dragging Jax’s thoughts back to the meeting.
He nodded, understanding his responsibility to work with the centers and wingers to accomplish that.
“It’s still early, and it’ll take time for the lines to find their chemistry and for the plays to start coming together. ”
“Agreed,” added Fred. “Jax’s and Brooks’s lines are working, but we’ll need to keep practicing the plays.”
“Overall, though, I’m not seeing what I was hoping for from our defense,” Sam commented. “We’ve won these first games, but holding one goal leads won’t get us much further. Our defense needs to tighten up and be more aggressive in our zone.”
Standing, Sam wandered over to the depth chart on the whiteboard that stretched almost the length of the interior office wall.
“JP and Sergei are two of our stronger defenseman. They aren’t afraid to throw hard hits.
” He paused, considering the groups of players.
“Fred, I think we need to change our defensive pairs,” he continued.
Fred joined him, looking at the board. Arms crossed, he asked, “You’re thinking of splitting the JP-Serg pairing and partnering them with other defenseman?”
Sam nodded. “We need more strength across our lines, and their tenure will be good for some of the newer players,” he said, scanning the names thoughtfully.
Jax unfolded himself from his spot on the couch and joined the two other men at the board. He mentally ran through some key things he had seen over the last few weeks, devising who he thought might be the best fit.
Reaching forward, he plucked up two nameplates and placed them on a clean section of the board.
“I would try Serg with Patty,” he said, “and JP with Smitthy,” he commented, referring to Jack Smith.
“Patty is good, but he’s young and needs to pack on some weight.
Clark’s working with him on a strength program, and Heidi gave him his nutrition packet, but until he’s gone up a weight class, he needs to learn how to use his size. I think Serg can help him with that.”
Clark was the team’s strength coach, and Heidi was their nutritionist. At the end of training camp, each team member received a personalized plan from the specialists to target each player’s unique focus or concerns.
“JP and Smitthy were a defensive line when they were both at UCC, so they already have a rapport. With JP’s experience being paired with Sergei last year, he’s in a good position to mentor,” he finished, placing their name plates below the first two.
“That might work,” Fred murmured, reviewing the remaining names of the team’s defenseman. “That would leave Scottie and Tony, which should work,” he added, placing their name plates together.
“Let’s try it,” Sam said, glancing at Fred. “I’d like to see them work in these pairs at practice tomorrow morning. I’ll have Eavie clear my schedule so I can observe and see how it looks.”
Just her name flipped a switch inside Jax’s mind, and he again wondered about her. This time, he resisted the urge to look at the door like he could see her through the solid, dark wood.
“Jax, how’s the mood in the dressing room?” asked Sam, returning to the seating area. He picked up his notebook again and jotted down the changes they discussed.
Following, Jax sat back on the brown leather couch, leaning against the cushion with his knees spread.
“It’s not bad. There are still some new relationships to forge, but I think we’ll be there soon.
Some have a harder time adjusting to a rival from last season suddenly being a teammate, but overall, things are positive. ”
“Good, good,” said Sam as he nodded. “We’ll need your help to get the buy-in for the defensive line changes, but based on your logic, I don’t think you’ll get much pushback.”
“Should be fine,” he said, with an easy nod of confirmation.
“Fred, work with Niklas tomorrow on the defensive changes,” Sam continued, referring to the defensive coach. “Jax, work with Jamie on offense. Focus on being more aggressive in the zone. I want to see shot attempts increase. Plays are good to have, but only shots on net will sink goals.”
“Sure,” Jax said, already working through some points to focus on tomorrow.
“Great. One last thing,” Sam added, glancing between the two. “Molly will be handing out everyone’s Thanksgiving volunteer assignments. Make sure everyone understands this is mandatory. There will be no repeats of last year.”
Jax grimaced, remembering how a whole group had failed to show up to serve food to the homeless because they had been too hungover from the night before.
“Understood,” said Jax, again itching to check the time.
Fred echoed his agreement as he closed his notebook. “I need to brief the coaches on the changes and plan practice tomorrow. I’ll also make sure they reiterate the message about Thanksgiving,” he said, standing.
“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Sam said.
Jax stood from the comfortable couch and gave Sam a quick handshake before following Fred out the door, finally giving in to the urge to check his watch.
Stepping through the doorway into the elegantly decorated outer office, he noted the meeting had run a half-hour over. Looking around, Eavie was unshockingly absent. No doubt she had done that on purpose. Honestly, he couldn’t blame her after his—now third—display of idiocy this morning.
Their chemistry was palpable. If only he could spend some time with her, perhaps he could try to do some damage control to her perception of him. He didn’t like that she must think he was just another player when it came to women, even though that’s exactly the impression he’d given.
Then, there was the knowledge that they would be explosive in bed.
Beneath the frosty exterior, she was too feisty and bold with her quick wit and sharp comebacks not to be a firecracker in that department.
Memories of her full lips sucking his tongue sent wild heat rushing south whenever he watched her speak.
Exiting her office, he made his way toward the elevators. Most of the cubicles and the reception desk were empty, everyone likely at lunch.
Stabbing the down button, he waited for the elevator, contemplating how to get Eavie to spend more than a minute within his company to prove that guy was not who he was.
He came face to face with her as the elevator doors slid open. Just like every time he saw her, a fierce pull of desire burned through his gut as he gazed into her vibrant, sky-blue eyes.