Page 20 of The Alternate Captain (Elite Hockey #3)

My dad calls as I’m finishing up with the barber and I answer after the first ring, shocked to feel excited to speak to him since it’s been a while.

“Johnathan. How are things?”

“Not bad, thanks. You?”

He ignores my question and presses on with the real reason for his call. Safe to say I’m no longer enthused to be speaking with him.

“Dinner plans. I’ll give Liam Preston a call, see if he can join us.”

I furrow my brow. “You realise Vicky and him broke up, right?”

He avoids that, too. “Jayne is really looking forward to meeting you all. Her son plays junior hockey, you know. He’s got lots of potential. Same barn you used to go to. I think this kid has the ability to go big, Johnathan. Like the twins did.”

The sinking feeling that sits in my stomach tightens.

Like the twins did .

“Well, if I can offer him any pointers, I’m more than happy to—”

He cuts me off. “Maybe Ryan can give him some advice.”

“Right.”

“And I’m proud of him. I mean, he works hard, and he listens. Honestly, I can’t wait for you to meet him.” Like a knife in the chest, Dad’s words hurt probably as much now as they did when I was a kid. And now he’s proud of someone else’s child, but not his own. Fucking brilliant.

“I need to get going. I’ve got something—”

“Before you go, son. Can you arrange tickets for the game on Saturday? Thanks.”

The reminder that I’m a disappointment, a failure, seeps into me, and I fight an inner battle with myself as soon as he hangs up.

All I ever wanted was for my dad to be proud of me.

A heat rises through my muscles, sitting heavy on my chest. I get back to my car, slide into the driver’s seat, and count to ten. Attempting to feel every part of my body, concentrating on each of my limbs—trying to ground myself.

But today, it’s not helping.

I turn my phone off in case he tries to call back. Then I get out of my car and kick the front driver’s side tyre hard, hoping that’ll help. It doesn’t. It angers me more. So, the only thing left to do is head to the rink, where I can cocoon myself.

I head back to my building to grab my gear, finding Bettsy outside the open door of Danny and Ryan’s apartment. His head swivels towards the stairwell when I walk through.

“Why don’t you ever answer your phone?” he says.

“I was busy,” I snap.

“You okay, Cap?” Danny asks, stepping out of his apartment.

“Yep. I’m off to the rink. If anyone wants to join me, you’re not welcome. ”

“Well, that’s rude. Besides, it’s out of action today. They’re replacing some of the glass and have a load of workmen there,” Bettsy says.

“Who told you that?” I ask, unlocking my door.

“If you bothered to check your messages...” He says goodbye to Danny and follows me towards my door. “Question, what are you doing tonight?”

“Not going speed dating, if that’s where this is going.”

“But Ffordey can’t make it. Danny told me he’s got plans and I can’t go on my own, Johnny. Come on, man.”

“Not happening.”

“Please, Johnny?”

Three hours later, Bettsy and I are standing against the back wall of a social club, sizing up the room. Bettsy’s got his new teeth, and he’s ironed his shirt; while I’ve lost my will to live.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy who plays field hockey or something?” Bettsy says, pointing towards a gap in the crowd. “Barry, wasn’t it?”

“Vicky’s date from last Christmas? It looks like, yeah,” I say.

“Well, if he’s the best of the bunch, we shouldn’t have any problems finding someone.” Bettsy’s grinning when he looks at me, but his expression drops to a frown. “Right, what the fuck is going on with you? I know you’re usually in a mood about something, but this is ridiculous.”

“I—”

“Alright, or what?” Bettsy says when Vicky and Kirsty, the girl from HR, come to a stop next to us.

“Fancy seeing you here, dear brother,” Vicky says .

I honestly don’t know how I agreed to this. The embarrassment I felt prior to seeing Vicky was bad enough, and now I’m completely mortified.

“Vicky.”

I don’t look directly at her, afraid that she’ll see right into my bad mood and ask me fifty questions.

“He’s not here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Bettsy says as Vicky glances around.

But all of our attention is pulled to the host, who starts giving us a rundown of the event. We’re told the men will rotate seats after each buzzer, allowing us two minutes per person.

“I’ll get us a match card each,” Bettsy says, as we’re ushered towards our seats.

But it’s clear that Vicky is on to me when she sits herself opposite me for the first ‘date.’

“You don’t date,” she says.

I shrug. “Bettsy didn’t want to come alone.”

A buzzer sounds, announcing the start of the session.

“Then why did you get a haircut?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Because I needed a damn haircut. Quit it.”

“I don’t buy it.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I have my hair cut every five weeks. Live with it.”

We argue back and forth before I cut the conversation and switch it to Dad, since putting the focus on him takes the heat away from me.

“He’s due on Friday, you remember?” I say. “He wants to catch my game on Saturday.”

“He’s never cared about your games, John. Why would he care now?” Vicky drones.

“Jayne’s interested by all accounts.”

“How much do we know about Jayne?” she asks.

“I think she’s younger than him,” I say, immediately thinking about Kelly .

Is the look on Vicky’s face judgement? Is she judging Dad? Would she judge me?

I don’t have time to think about it as the buzzer sounds and I’m getting ushered along to the next seat, opposite Kirsty. At least these two minutes will be relatively easy too. I’ve known Kirsty since I joined the team, and I don’t feel nervous at all.

“Hi, Johnny. Nice haircut,” she says.

“How’s it going? Were you coerced into coming too?”

“Sort of. But it’s fine.” She plays with the ends of hair as she talks. “I’m nervous.”

“How come? You’ve always come across as pretty confident.”

“Same as you, Johnny. So, are you hoping to meet someone on the off chance? Since you’re here?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Can you keep a secret?” I ask, lowering my voice.

“If it’s anything work related, maybe not. Since—”

“It’s not. I’ve sort of met someone, and I really like her. But I’ve fucked up.”

“Oh! Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise? Care to tell me the name of the lucky lady who’s broken through your shell, Johnny?” Kirsty says.

“I can’t. Honestly. Just in case. However, saying that... it’s probably a complete loss now, considering I was such a dick.”

Kirsty tilts her head to the side and studies me. “Want to tell me more about it? I may be able to help. Offer some advice or whatever.”

“Really?” I ask, probably sounding too excited.

“Yeah, sure. And I’ll keep it to myself,” she says. “Tick my box and get my number. Give me a shout when you want to talk.”

“Sure. Thanks.” I turn my checklist over to tick the box next to her name. Then I spot a list of questions to use as icebreakers, throwing one out at Kirsty for the fun of it.

“What’s your favourite sport?” I ask, flashing her a grin.

“Not hockey,” she says. “Let’s go with rugby.”

“Right. ”

I relax into the conversation after that, using the prompt card to fire off questions as I move around the room. If I ask my dates questions, it means I have little talking to do myself. I use the time to think about Kelly—and what my next move is.

I text Kirsty as soon as I get home and after an hour of back and forth, I’ve got a plan. Kirsty is a lifesaver.