Page 6

six

Wyatt

I fucked up.

I don’t know what I did, but I know I fucked up.

Elsy and I lead very different lives, but considering I’m the only person she knows in the city, I thought she’d be reaching out to do something.

But I should have known my butterfly would spread her wings and fly. It’s difficult to keep her down for very long.

I try to text her half a dozen times, but everything I type seems stupid. I don’t want to come on too strong, but I don’t want to scare her off, either.

Another invitation to a team event would probably be a good way to hang out. She could meet the other wives and partners. There’s a reality TV show filming the team right now and there are always a bunch of staffers hanging around.

I don’t know why I’m so invested in spending time with Elsy. It’s more than Bex asking me to look out for her. I want to. I want to protect her, to make sure she’s okay.

When she said we were enemies the other night, it was like something in me broke. As much as I enjoy needling her, I thought we were having fun. It was all a game. I didn’t think she actually hated me…

Throughout training camp, she’s on my mind, and I’m not playing well. It’s a good thing I’ve been doing this for nine years and can operate on muscle memory, because no matter how much I try to compartmentalize and focus on hockey, she keeps creeping in.

Viggy pulls me aside in the locker room. “Want to talk about it?” he asks. He’s not my friend, he’s my captain, and I know it’s not a conversation I can opt out of.

Still, I’ll try.

“Talk about what?”

He sighs. “Whatever has you so twisted up, you’re playing like a rookie again.”

Frustration twists my stomach, centered in a heavy knot behind my ribs, and I drag my hand down my face. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, man.” His laugh is short and forced. “Is it the reality show thing? Do I need to go to Coach?”

Shaking my head, I push my hair off my forehead. “Nah. They’re not bothering me.” The cameras aren’t allowed in here when we’re changing, and I don’t have any juicy gossip to interest them. Mostly, they leave me alone. I’m nothing but another nameless, faceless blob to them—which is exactly how I want it.

Being the focus of a reality TV show? Kill me now. Make it swift.

“So what is it?” Viggy asks.

“It’s nothing.”

Understanding dawns, and his expression clears. “So it’s a chick.”

My face twists into a scowl. “She’s not a chick.” She’s a fully grown woman who deserves to be treated with respect.

“It’s serious, then.”

I swallow my hesitation and confide in my captain. “She called us enemies.”

“And you don’t hate her?”

“She’s—I—” I sigh. “No, I don’t hate her.” Not in the slightest.

I’m not saying I’m in love with her. I wouldn’t go that far. She’s a cool person with an even cooler vibe. I’ve been able to catch glimpses of her—the real her—from a distance over the years. When she lets her guard down, she’s…

“She has this way of drawing everyone in,” I tell him. “Elsy cares about people, like, genuinely cares about them and not just for show. She goes out of her way to help her friends. She’ll drop everything for them.” I sigh. “But I’m not one of her friends.”

“That’s tough, man.” His hand lands heavy on my shoulder, the sympathy I didn’t know I was looking for.

“Any advice?” Holding my breath, I lean closer to him.

Viggy snorts. “Fuck, you think I know what to do? There’s a reason I stay single. Easier that way.”

Everything in me deflates. “Thanks, man. Really appreciate it.”

He shrugs. “Invite her to a game. Maybe with her in the stands, you won’t suck so much.”

Flipping him off, I turn back to my locker to strip off my sweaty gear. As unhelpful as he was, inviting her to a game probably isn’t a bad idea. She’s a hockey fan, right? Her best friend plays. She probably knows other guys in the league, too, guys she’s met through him. She can catch up with them.

Wait. I do not want her to get cozy with any of them. Maybe I shouldn’t invite her after all…

Can’t believe I’m even thinking this, but I wish my sister was here. She’d know what to do.

The lit-up screen taunts me as I hover my finger over Bex’s contact in my phone. I don’t want to reach out to her. She’d be able to see right through me and tell me to do what I already know I should.

No. I should just invite Elsy to the game. I’ll get her friend tickets, too. That way, she won’t be alone.

Before I can second, triple, and quadruple guess myself, I email the admin staff and request three tickets to the game. It’s preseason, so we’re not expecting full attendance, but I still have to arrange it in advance. Players are allotted so many tickets for each home game, as long as we coordinate with the front office. I’ll leave it up to Elsy if she’d rather sit at ice level or up in the suite with the other wives and partners.

Going about my day, I see the trainers for treatment on my shoulder and film a quick confessional-style video with the TV crew. They want us to do these videos once or twice a week, or when something drama-worthy happens. I’m not sure how I feel about being part of a reality TV show. I just want to play hockey.

I’m driving home for the day when my phone buzzes with the reply from admin: three tickets acquired. I text them to Elsy without comment.

Immediately, my phone rings over the Bluetooth connection.

“What the fuck, Wyatt?” she demands.

“What’s up, Elizabeth?” I aim for calm, cool, and collected, but I don’t think the gravel in my voice hides how turned on I get when she says my name in that snippy, pissed-off tone. This game we’re playing, when I call her everything but her name, is a surefire way to set her off.

She makes everything inside me light up. My cock perks up, too. It’s like a Pavlovian response to the mettle in her voice. It’s fucked how much I enjoy being tortured by her.

“Why did you send me tickets to your game?”

“Oh, so you got them.” My smile stretches across my face as I hang a left and head toward her apartment instead of mine.

Elsy makes a frustrated noise. “Yeah. Why’d you send me three tickets?”

“Thought you and Anastasia might want to come to a game. She’s married, so tell her to bring her spouse.”

It didn’t escape my notice that Anastasia was very careful with pronouns at dinner. I don’t know if her partner is male, female, or nonbinary, nor do I care. Hockey is for everyone; I genuinely believe that. I don’t care about the color of anyone’s skin or who they love. It shouldn’t matter. That it does in this day and age drives me absolutely nuts. It’s terrible that some people don’t feel safe enough to be who they are and live their lives out loud.

“I don’t want to go to your game,” Elsy snaps.

Flinching, I thank my lucky puck that she’s on a voice call and not video. I don’t need her to remind me exactly how much she dislikes me.

“You don’t have to come,” I say evenly. “I thought it might be something fun to do with your friend.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So… so…” She grunts. “Just stop it, okay?”

I smile. “Stop what, exactly?”

“You know what you’re doing.” She sounds so frustrated. I wonder what it would take for her to snap.

“I don’t, though.”

Pulling into the parking lot of the little deli around the corner from her apartment, I place a takeout order on my phone.

“You home?” I ask when she doesn’t say anything.

“Why?” She’s so suspicious.

“Just making conversation.” While they prepare my order, I tilt my seat back and relax. “How was rehearsal?”

“Fuck off, Wyatt,” she snaps.

“Ouch, Eleanor. I’m really feeling the love.”

“You don’t care, so don’t pretend like you do. I don’t know what your end game is here, but I’m not going to fall at your feet just because you act like a decent human being for once in your goddamn life.”

My chest pangs.

“Is that what you think I want?” I can hear the pain in my voice. Can she? I hope not. “Do you really think this is only a game to me?”

“Isn’t it?”

The call disconnects.

Fuck. I messed that up. Hell, I’m messing everything up.

Darting inside the deli, I pick up the order and drive the short distance to her apartment.

Her building is gated, a squat five floors centered around a resort-style pool with cabanas and loungers. There are pickleball, tennis, and basketball courts. It’s the kind of bougie place my sister would love, but I didn’t think Elsy would go after all these upscale amenities.

Someone is leaving as I walk in, so I nod and they hold the door open.

Making my way up to the fourth floor, I shake out my shoulders and take a breath to steady myself. It’ll be okay. Although I have no idea why I’m here. This is probably a terrible idea, but it’ll all work out.

I just need to get my head in the game.