Page 4 of Scoring Lessons

“How are you feeling about training camp?”

“How subtle of you,” I grunted.

“Subtlety isn’t exactly my forte,” he replied, blunt as ever. “Don’t avoid the question.”

I took a deep breath as I wondered how honest I wanted to be.

The answer was simple: I was scared. But I couldn’t say that out loud.

In front of my friends, I lived my life the best I could. But when it came to the team? I questioned everything, like one wrong move and everything would end.

Packing up my life and transitioning to a new team so soon into my career had been rough the first time around, and I didn’t want to go through it again. Though it was no secret, this was the life of an average athlete. Getting traded was part of the norm, but since I had little to no family, being ripped away from my best friends—who were practically my brothers—was tough to think about. I fought for a chance to stay on the team every. Single. Day.

And yes…it was as exhausting as it sounded.

“Prepared,” was the word I settled for.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a breather, and I wasn’t planning to start now—especially with my contract expiring at the end of the season. Last I heard from my agent, Michael Sterling, he hadn’t gotten a single call from the Strikers to discuss the possibility of extending my contract.

And that? That was fucking terrifying. Like standing in the middle of the ice rink with the entire arena waiting for you to score in a shootout kind of terrifying.

“What about the new roommate? How are you feeling about her?” Parker grinned, wiggling his dark eyebrows.

I draped an arm over the back of the bench with a scoff. “Jesus, Parker. You got a crush on Olivia or something? You’ve been asking me that question every single week since you found out.”

He mulled over my words as he absentmindedly played with his golden chain. “I mean…she’s not my type, but she is pretty hot.”

I shot him a pointed glare, then my eyes settled back on the river as one of those architectural tourist boats passed. “She may not be your type, but we both know that hasn’t stopped you before. And you’ll be dead meat if Anderson finds out.”

The laugh he barked was knowing. He may have been the kind of player who never got into trouble on the ice and was a well-rounded hockey player for his age, but when it came to his love life? That trail of broken hearts was longer than mine.

“I never said I was going after her. You, on the other hand…” He let the words hang as his eyes pinned me with a stare so intense, it made the side of my face practically burn.

“Have you forgotten what happens every time we’re in the same room?” I gave him an incredulous look. “She drives me fucking nuts.”

“Oh, please.” Parker tipped his head back with an exaggerated eye roll. “You could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife.”

“You’re an idiot.” He was also very fucking wrong.

Olivia was beautiful, sure. I was mature enough to admit it. But our personalities clashed—something that was unbelievable in itself. I’d practically known Olivia my whole life, and she hadn’t always been like this. She used to be fearless. The life of the party. But now? Too closed off. Always carrying a chip on her shoulder, like she was allergic to the idea of fun.

“Why else would you offer to have her live with you?”

“None of your business.” I stretched my arms and cracked my neck to release some of the tension I’d been carrying as of late.

“I’m just surprised she actually agreed to live with you. With her, you know, hating your guts and all of that.”

I shot him a glare but opted to move past the topic. “Race you back? Loser buys a round for the whole team next time we go to Tim’s.” I took off before he could scramble to get a head start.

I still didn’t understand why I’d decided to help her. When Anderson told me his sister was moving, I was caught off guard. Olivia Anderson wasn’t the type to run from anything. If she was leaving New York, there had to be a good reason.

Maybe I was trying to be nice. Or perhaps I saw a little too much of myself in the way she was packing up her life and starting over.

Whether she was forced to or needed a fresh start, I understood what it cost more than anyone.

The first team dinner of the new season was being hosted at Liam Donovan’s—the star right winger and captain of the Strikers—since the guy was oddly obsessed with grilling. It was how the whole barbecue idea had started in the first place.

Laughter and voices echoed through the foyer when I stepped inside. I took a deep breath, trying to take control of my anxiety. I’d thought going on a run would help ease some of the tension hanging over me—people said exercise was good for that—but, of course, it hadn’t.