Page 42 of Unrivaled Love (D.C. Renegades #2)
Bryson
First Time, Again
"Thanks, Killer," I say into the speakers of my car. It's our first official game of the season and Jo was able to step away from her meetings for a minute to call me.
We’ve kicked ass at our long distance relationship so far.
I’m the king of good morning dancing videos and she calls me while she eats dinner when I’m getting ready for bed.
Sending her random texts from the ones I’d compiled in my notes app over the years has helped both of us realize how deep our connection truly runs.
The demands of our schedules are about to test us in new ways. My season starts tonight, she has six weeks to go.
"You ready?" She asks. She understands how tough it is to face a full game after only getting a few minutes in the preseason games. Coach Bradford was testing out a bunch of farm guys at left forward as he rebuilds the fourth line. I had to sit back and watch other guys play my position.
"I am.” My playing minutes might have been low in the preseason but I have busted my ass getting back into shape. I’ll never admit it to Jo but I was glad she was busy with her season over the last month because I have been training non stop.
"Good." She says. I hear someone call her in the background. "Sorry Bry, I gotta go. Call me after and I'll be watching!"
"I will and thanks Jo, I love you." Saying it has gotten easier and easier. As soon as I saw her crumpled against the wheel at the airport I couldn’t keep the words to myself. Jo had to know what I was leaving with. And the words on her lips sent me into the stratosphere. Each time she repeats it now, I’m reassured we're enduring the distance for a reason.
"I love you too, Bry."
And then she's gone.
My music comes back on and I finish my drive to the Koffee Center.
As tough as it was to get back to where I was at the end of last season, all I needed was to get back out on the ice. As soon as I started playing the game again the nervous energy around my MVP award dissipated.
Coach Bradford especially couldn't give two shits I was last season’s MVP or that we were the reigning champs. In fact, he's been treating us like we're at the bottom of the rankings, which on day one, we all are.
I park and see Duncan just ahead of me. I check the time and see Crosby will be here any second. His pregame ritual is down to the second these days.
"Hey Payday!" I call out to Duncan and he turns.
"Ooo, I like that one." He says as he slows his steps and waits for me.
"It's pretty slick, isn't it? And now you don't have to try and throw yourself another nickname ceremony."
"Why do you guys still rag me for that? It was a beautiful moment and when the ice girls shot the fake money out of their cannons. I definitely saw you smile."
"It was something." I give him. The truth is Duncan was too impatient to wait for the ceremony I had planned for him. Maybe for his 1,000th game we'll re-nickname him.
I button my jacket as I slide my keys into my pocket. I’m in a dusty brown double breasted suit. The pants taper in and show a little ankle before my feet disappear into my chocolate Italian loafers. The tank I’m wearing shows the top of my chest and I plan to send a pic of this fit to Jo later .
I look fucking good.
We stop to answer the social media question for the night which is asking what animal we could beat in a fight.
"Any animal?" Crosby asks for clarification as he sips his iced coffee and catches up to us.
"Any animal," Lydia, our social media admin, confirms.
"Full grown or can we pick like baby animals?" Duncan asks.
"You want to fight a baby animal?" I ask.
"No, but a baby bear is different from an adult bear."
"And you think you could beat a baby bear?" I challenge.
"I think I could wrestle down a baby bear, don't you?" Duncan shifts on his feet to stand taller.
"I think baby bears still have gigantic claws. Crocs, you got anything?"
"No, why is this such a difficult question?"
We all kind of chuckle but no one answers.
"Okay, rapid fire, quick, what animal could you beat in a fight?" Lydia hurries us along.
"Bear, baby bear." Duncan spits out.
"Dog!" Crosby yells.
"Dog?" I ask.
"What? I dunno, I panicked."
"Boba Tea, what's your animal?" Dunc asks me.
"I'm thinking a farm animal; goat, pig, maybe even a cow. I think I could win in a fight against one of them."
"Actually, logical." Lydia says and then she sends us on our way.
"Where do they come up with these questions?" Crosby asks as he pops a few sour patch kids in his mouth.
"My guess is they're all on a group chat and they share ideas. Or they get high every night and come up with the goofiest shit." Duncan says .
"It doesn't matter, they keep the fans entertained, especially the casual fan and that's how we grow the sport." I tell them as we walk down the hall.
"True true, thanks for cooling us down AC." Crosby says and we pause.
"Oh shit, that was smooth!" Duncan slaps Crosby on the back.
I grin. "It was. Crocs did you just give out a nickname?"
Duncan pushes into the locker room and starts clapping his hands. "Boys, new nickname alert! Cros here just called Boba Tea, AC, and it's a beaut."
"I like that one." Aiden says as we pass his locker.
“We’ll see if it sticks.” I tell him. “I’ve been Boba Tea for years.”
“Do you ask Jo to call you that when you’re in the throws of love making?” Duncan asks as he starts to undress. We all change into shorts and sweatshirts for warm ups before getting into all our game gear.
“Let’s leave AC’s love making preferences alone,” Felix says. “I’ve got a new song for us. Do you want it now or right before we take the ice?”
The room groans. I personally love Cap’s annual pump up song picks. Last year it was Cotton Eyed Joe and it never got old for me. It became part of my pregame ritual and helped loosen me up just a fraction more before taking the ice.
I start to change as Felix gets his speaker connected. “The suspense is kinda killing me.” I say with a laugh to Emmett next to me.
“I honestly have no idea where he’s going to go with this.” He says as he pulls his socks on.
“Okay boys, listen up!” Felix says and then he dramatically presses play. There’s a moment of silence before the Baha Men start yelling “Who let the dogs out?! Who? Who? Who? Who? Who?”
The boys start barking along with the song as we get into it.
This locker room atmosphere is exactly the kind I need before going in to grind it out for another 82 games of the regular season.
** *
I was named star of the game after two goals and two assists in our four-two win over Dallas. A small part of me wanted us to lose. I craved the feeling of a loss. I need to be knocked back down to make sure I can still get up again.
“Bryson,” the rink-side reporter says and I lean in to hear them over the roar of the crowd. “How’d it feel to open the season with a win?”
“Great!” I grin. It might not be my personal mentality but a win is a win. “We might be reigning champs but it doesn’t mean anything going into this season. We all start from zero.” I say and the crowd cheers.
“Dallas got two in against Aiden Youngren, how’s he feeling going into a season playing more games?”
“He’s ready. Dallas came out swinging but we swung harder.”
“Tell me about the go-ahead goal in the second.”
“Sure, yeah, it was an odd man rush and I knew I had Cap coming in behind me. Their defender had to decide who to cover and when he picked Forney I saw the lane open up and I took the shot. That’s all we can do, take the shot when we see it.”
“And hopefully you get plenty more shots in the games ahead. Thanks Bryson.”
“Thanks.”
I hand my stick over the railing to a kid and walk down the tunnel.
I toss my gloves to our equipment assistant, Luke, and walk into the locker room.
The boys are laughing and getting undressed.
I clap a hand on Aiden’s shoulders because he’ll be hating the fact he let two in.
He nods as he keeps his nose in his phone. Probably texting Harper .
I toss my jersey into the bin for washing and take off my shoulder pads. My undershirt is soaked with sweat but before my shower I pull my phone out.
A text from Jo is waiting.
Two in one game isn’t bad…but I’ve scored four already since the second half picked up. You’ve got some work to do.
I laugh because of course she’s giving me shit instead of saying good game. Or fawning over me. And that’s exactly what I love about her so much. She challenges me and motivates me to work harder.
Just gettin’ warmed up, Killer.
Call you when I get home?
Can’t. I’m out at a team dinner for Nat’s birthday.
Got it. Then call me in the morning before practice.
Your practice or mine?
Yours.
OK. Night!
Night babe.