Wildcat: Chapter 10

Tuesday morning, I get to the arena early for a meeting with Blythe. When I was a kid dreaming of being a pro hockey player, I never imagined that would include media training.

As I’m walking into the building, I spot a dark head in front of me. She walks to the next door, peers in, then continues down the hall. Smiling, I quicken my steps.

She does it three more times before I reach her.

“Lost?”

Scarlett jumps and then stands tall with a hand to her chest.

“Good morning,” I chirp.

“’Morning,” she grumbles.

“You’re here again.” Hello, Captain Obvious.

“I’m helping my dad until his assistant is back.”

“No way.” My smile grows bigger and something warm spreads in my chest. “Congrats.”

She moves along and I follow, passing the stairway to Blythe’s office. Scarlett goes to the next open door, looks in, and then does this cute little growl.

“Who are you looking for?”

“Not who. What. I need coffee.” She looks at me and lets her gaze slide over me. “I needed coffee five minutes ago before you appeared.”

“Not a morning person, huh?”

“I like mornings just fine—alone and with coffee.”

“Oh, I don’t know. You seemed pretty peppy and happy the other morning without caffeine.”

Her eyes narrow. “If I’m going to work here, I’m going to need you to forget that ever happened.”

“Not a chance.”

She cocks her head to the side.

“I’m sorry. Couldn’t even if I tried.” Every detail of that night is burned into my brain.

“Can you at least not speak about it?”

I make a motion like I’m zipping my lips and stop outside the break room. “Coffee is in here.”

She walks in and lifts the empty carafe.

“Oh. I think Anna usually made the coffee. She was always the first one in.”

Scarlett groans and tips her head back. After a few seconds of looking like she wants to throw herself to the floor, she moves to the cabinets and opens two, looking inside.

Without saying anything, I move forward and pull a filter and coffee packet from another cabinet while Scarlett watches my every move. Once I’ve dumped the water and flipped the coffee maker on, I lean against the counter. “It’ll be ready in a few minutes. Do you think you can survive that long?”

“I knew I should have made my dad stop at Starbucks. He was all, “Five dollars for a cup of burnt coffee is ridiculous.”

Her impression of her dad loosens a laugh from my lips. “There’s a coffee shop next door, for future reference.”

Coffee starts pouring into the carafe. She leans in and inhales.

“Looks like you’re going to make it.” I push off and start toward the door.

“You don’t want to wait for coffee?”

“Nah. I don’t drink coffee.”

She looks appalled. “What kind of monster are you?”

Her innocent words make me think all sorts of dirty things. She must read it on my face because her eyes widen.

“See you around.”

After my meeting with Blythe, we have practice and then conditioning. It’s lunch time when I file into the media room with the rest of the team. Lunch is catered and we fill our plates and take a seat.

Coach comes in with Scarlett. The way she holds herself so stiffly, eyes trained on her dad, I know she feels me watching her. She’s dying to look and find me amongst the other players.

“What’s dream girl doing here?” Ash asks with a nod in Scarlett’s direction.

He and Jack, on his other side, look to me for an answer.

“She’s the new Anna.”

His head moves slowly up and down. “That explains why the coffee in the break room was burnt this morning.”

Oh shit. I forgot to tell her to turn off the burner.

Coach introduces her and tells us she’ll be coming around to get our sizes for the new warmups and other gear, as well as updating our travel preferences.

She heads to the opposite side of the room and Coach starts the film.

“What’s your move, Romeo?” Ash leans closer and whispers.

“I don’t know. Looks like she’ll be around though.”

“Might want to clear your intentions with Coach and Blythe, get ahead of any drama.”

He’s mostly joking, but it wouldn’t be the first time a player hooked up with someone that worked here and caused a shitstorm. It isn’t strictly against the rules; relationships just need to be disclosed.

“What am I going to say? Hey, Coach, I’d really like to take out your daughter, but she’s still pissed that I didn’t call her after the last time we hooked up.”

Ash’s chest shakes with laughter. “Needs just a little tweaking.”

“No shit.”

He angles his body toward mine and leans on one elbow. “Are you sure about this?”

“About what?”

I meet her gaze from across the room and she looks away. She stands beside Morris as he denotes his choices on the forms she’s shuttling around for us to fill out. Scarlett brings her thumb to her lips staring anywhere but at me. If she’s trying to appear cool and collected, she’s failing.

A chuckle escapes. I can’t help it. Damn. I’ve never met anyone like her. It’s cliché to say, I know, but it’s just a fact.

It isn’t like girls are throwing themselves in front of me at every turn, but I’ve never had one try so hard to avoid me either.

I look back to Ash and take in his lifted brows and concerned gaze.

“Dude, she’s Coach’s daughter.”

“I know.” Fuck, he’s right. “I know.”

“Be careful. All I’m saying.”

When she makes her way to me and Ash, I pass him the form first and focus on Scarlett. “How’s your day going?”

“Good. Thanks.”

Ash chuckles next to me. “Oh boy. This is going to be a disaster.”

I elbow him and lean forward to block him out of the conversation.

“Did you get some food?” I tip my head to the spread up front.

“That’s for the players.”

“Do you want me to grab you a plate? The chicken wraps are delicious.”

“I’m good. Once I get done here, I’m going to lunch.”

She refuses to look at me, but it’s fine. I’m too happy that she’s working here to be annoyed about how she keeps insisting our night together “was nothing” and treating me like the worst one-night stand in the history of casual sex. Maybe it should sting, her ability to so easily dismiss me, but it doesn’t for one simple fact: I know she’s bluffing. If she truly felt nothing, she wouldn’t need to put up a front.

Maybe it’s because of her dad or because she’s working here, maybe it’s because of the prick in London that broke her heart, maybe she really is pissed I didn’t call sooner—but if it’s the latter, then that just sort of proves my point.

Ash nudges me with the clipboard. I scan the questions on the form, then tip my head up to look at her. “This is all you need from me?”

“Yeah. I think Anna got everything else before she left. Dad promised I wouldn’t need to interact with the players much. Thank goodness.” She looks at Ash. “No offense.”

“Lots taken. We’re awesome.”

I tap the pen on the clipboard. “So after this, you won’t have any reason to speak to me?”

“That is the hope,” she says, voice climbing to a playful sing-song.

I skim over the form again. It’s basic information we provide every year. I hand it back without filling it out. “I need to check a few things first.”

She balks. I bite back a smile at the look on her face—the one that says she knows exactly what I’m doing.”

“I’ll come back to you,” she says in a sugary-sweet tone that hardens when she adds,“Figure it out.”

“If you’re trying to make her like you, you might try making her life easier instead of harder,” Ash says out of one side of his mouth.

She’s back a few minutes later, but doesn’t jab the clipboard toward me like I’m expecting.

“I ran out of forms,” she says. “Can you stop by the office later?”

“Oooh. I’m not sure.” I look at Ash. “Do I have time for that?”

“He’s a pretty busy guy,” Ash says. “But I think he can squeeze you in around three after strength training.”

“Thank you,” she mutters the thanks with a great deal of pain in her tone.

At exactly three o’clock, I stop by Anna’s office next to Coach’s. I’m freshly showered and in street clothes and I don’t miss the full-body scan Scarlett takes of me. I take a seat in front of the desk. It’s clean and tidy. Pictures of Anna and her family face me. I move one over to get a better view of Scarlett.

“Here you go.” She hands me the clipboard. She’s scribbled my name on the top line and I like the way it looks in her penmanship.

I take it and lean back in the chair. “Cream and sugar?”

“Excuse me?” She’s staring at a laptop and doesn’t look up at my question.

“In your coffee. Do you like cream and sugar?”

“It depends.”

“On?” I ask, more and more amused at everything that comes out of her mouth.

She sighs and looks up. “If I’m making it, then yes. But I don’t trust other people to mess with my coffee.”

“Dark roast? Medium?”

“For someone who doesn’t like coffee, you have a lot of questions about it.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like coffee. I said I don’t drink it. At least not during the season.”

I finish the form and set the clipboard on the desk.

“Thank you. One more thing I can cross off the list today.” She looks at the clock on the wall. “Crap. Is that the time?”

“Umm…” I glance at it and then my watch. “Yes.”

“I have to take that box of signed shirts upstairs to the media department and haul ass to the bar.”

“You’re still working at the bar too?”

“Once or twice a week when Mike doesn’t have any other options.” She stands and looks all around, grabs her purse, shuts the laptop, and starts to pick up a large box sitting on the floor.

“Go. I’ll take that to the media department.”

“You’ll make sure it gets there? I promised them I’d have it there by the end of today.”

“I promise.”

She hesitates as if she’s not sure she should trust me.

“Thank you.” She takes a few quick steps and pauses, looking at me square on for the first time all day. “See you tomorrow, Leo Lohan.”

“See you tomorrow.”

I sit there for a few minutes after she’s gone, smiling as I think about the small interactions I’ve had with her today. It’s a real twist of fate that she’s here, where I can see her face every day. If only for a week or two, I have an opportunity to remind her how good things were between us and figure out how to make this work where Coach doesn’t send me packing.

One thing is for sure, I have to make the most of this time because something tells me she isn’t going to unblock my number so easily. I pick up the clipboard, take my form and crumble it into a ball.

To making the most of it.

I shoot the ball of paper into the trash can, then grab the box to take upstairs.