Chapter Five
NOAH
“ A re you serious?”
“I apologize, but the building didn’t pass inspection due to bad electric work, and it’ll be a few more months before it gets corrected.”
“And there’s nothing you can do until then?” I scrub a hand across my forehead. “You said it would only be until the end of the week.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fields, but the building cannot be occupied until final inspection.”
“If that day ever comes.”
I end the call and toss my phone into my bag, not caring that I was more curt than I should have been. This is not what I needed today. I thought for sure that I’d be able to get moved in once we were back from our road trip, yet I’m still waiting through another seemingly endless delay.
I figured a brand-new high-rise in the city would be the perfect place for me. Quiet because it wouldn’t be filled to capacity. A doorman to prevent any wayward fans from finding me. And most important, a place to rest my head that is my own. It’s why I kept waiting on this place. Well after last season even.
Now, I have no place to go except the cheap hotel that I chose only because it’s close to the rink.
Can one thing go right since being traded?
I head toward the weight room for the optional morning workout before our preseason game tonight, hoping to clear my head. Half the guys are here, but I know more will come later.
The treadmills are empty—the perfect way to pound out this annoyance. Keeping up with regular physical therapy during the offseason has helped me make leaps and bounds in my recovery.
My knee feels like it’s brand-new. Knowing it can handle the strenuous pace I set, I start the treadmill and take off on the grueling workout.
Guys start coming in, shooting the shit with each other. A few give me a wave, while others head toward their preferred workout station.
I hate that I still don’t feel like a part of the team. Sure, I have the few guys that I hang out with every now and then, but it feels different.
A bridge I’m not quite sure how to cross.
Graham enters the weight room, heading straight toward me. At least that’s something that’s changed. It doesn’t feel outright hostile with him now.
More like simmering annoyance.
He gives me a nod as he gets onto the treadmill next to me. Eyeing my own speed, he sets his one notch above mine and takes off.
Maybe I was wrong on that whole hostile feeling. I kick my own speed up one above his.
Two can play at that game.
Glancing over at him, I see a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. Something I shouldn’t be noticing. Because…why am I finding it sexy?
I push those thoughts from my head as Graham jabs his finger at the screen. He punches his treadmill up as high as it can go. I follow.
The burn in my legs feels good as I push myself harder than I have in months. The hard beat of my feet reverberates through my entire body, pushing me even harder. Fuck, does it ever feel good.
Like I can do what I was supposed to.
Play hockey and not just sit on the bench.
Maybe having Graham around is a good thing. I shudder at the thought. Because that is not something I would have thought at any point.
“Think you can keep it up, old man?” Graham taunts me from his spot.
“See if you can.” I send a wink his way, and I don’t miss the way he stumbles over his feet for the briefest of seconds.
I pump my arms, pushing myself even harder to keep up with him. I’ve got almost seven years on him. I might not be the fastest guy anymore after years of playing, but if I can push him to keep up, why wouldn’t I?
Until a voice startles me out of my thoughts.
“Jesus. Can you two stop making everything into a competition? I don’t need you idiots hurting yourselves before the season even starts.” Marcus groans. “You’re worse than the girls.”
Changing the pace to a brisk walk, I slow down as Graham does the same thing beside me.
“Gotta make sure our top center is in shape,” Graham chirps.
“More like dead on the ice tonight if you two keep this up,” Marcus fires back.
“I know exactly how hard to push myself.”
Marcus gives me a weary look. “This feels more like a pissing match to me.”
“Nah.” I wave him off. “Just trying to work out some stress. That’s all.”
“Did you hear about your condo?” Marcus asks, dropping onto the weight machine in front of us.
“Yeah. Not good news.”
“What’s not good news?” Graham asks, inserting himself into the conversation. Sweat drips down from his face. He lifts his shirt to wipe it off, and I do my best to ignore the brief flash of his abs I get.
I must really be in a weird place right now if I’m eyeing his abs. Maybe I need to find someone to release some of this pent-up energy instead of going for a workout.
Or just getting a different kind of workout.
“My condo is delayed again. Probably another couple of months.”
“Shit, really?” Marcus asks, setting the weight bar on the rest and sitting up.
“You still don’t have a place to live?” Graham asks, resting his hands on his hips.
“It’s fine. No big deal.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Marcus ignores me. “It is a big deal. I can’t have you playing like crap.”
“Hey!” I interject. “I’m not playing like crap.”
Marcus studies me, then turns his focus to Graham. Before looking back at me, his face lights up.
“Why don’t you stay with Flounder?” Marcus asks. “He has room and it’s close to the rink.”
“What? Why me?” Graham asks. His face goes hard, like me living with him would be the worst thing in the world.
Except…it might just be the worst thing in the world.
“It’s fine.” I take a swig from my water bottle and toss it back onto the bench. “I’m good where I am.”
Marcus raises a brow at me like he’s not buying my crap. Having young kids must decrease your bullshit meter. “You told me the other night how shitty the place you’re staying is.”
“Well, not shitty per se…”
“Look, Flounder has a spare room. You need a place to stay. Suck it up, Noah. I don’t want you turning into a shitty player because you’re not sleeping at night.”
“Fuck you. I’m playing just fine.”
“Then keep it that way,” Marcus tells me.
“How do you know I still have a spare room?” Graham asks Marcus. “I could have done something with it.”
“Have you? Because I was at your place only a few weeks ago and it was sitting empty.”
Graham mutters under his breath at Marcus’s words.
“I can keep looking. Ignore Marcus.”
Graham shakes his head at me, scoffing. “Have you met him? He’s scary. I don’t want him coming for my ass for ignoring him. Come by after practice.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I have a spare room with a bed. Don’t make me tell you twice.”
“Fine. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Maybe I could figure something else out, but with us leaving late tomorrow night for a road game the following day, I don’t really have many options. Hell, I could get my mom to come out and find something for me, but she has work. Piper, too.
They’re about the only two people I would trust to find me a good place to live. Which, at this point, the bar is low.
Leaving me with my only option.
Graham fucking Fisher.
Graham
This is quite possibly the worst idea ever. Not that it was my idea to begin with. But when the captain suggests something, it’s not really a suggestion. I don’t want to get on Marcus’s bad side, so here I am. Clearing out my second bedroom to make room for Noah Fields.
Maybe Noah moving in with me will help mend the fences between the two of us. I have no idea where things went wrong. It doesn’t help that I hit him just right and took him out of the game. It wasn’t intentional, just a bad luck of the draw for him.
Things defrosted after our first road trip. Not entirely thawed, but enough for our coaches and team to see that we won’t repeat what happened at practice.
But having to room with him both on the road and at home? I haven’t lived with anyone since my freshman year of college. I like having my own space. After a hard practice or a tough loss, the silence of my own space was always just what I needed. To not be around people and decompress by myself.
The buzzer from the living room has me tossing the last pillow on the bed and heading out to let him up.
Nerves start to swarm as I wait for my new roommate to come up. The building isn’t new, but my place was recently renovated. It’s what made it so appealing when I got drafted by the Knights out of college.
A soft knock echoes around the living room. I open the door, and there’s Noah, with one bag slung over his shoulder and a duffle at his feet.
“Hey.” I sweep the front door open and watch as he brushes past me.
“Graham.” Noah nods at me as he drops his bags on the floor in the entryway and heads inside.
A flat screen TV takes up one wall in the living room with every gaming system you could ever dream of. One couch faces the TV with a lone chair nearby with its back toward the windows. Given the small size of the condo, I don’t have a dining room table and opted for barstools in the kitchen. It’s not like I entertain a lot of the guys on the team.
“It’s not much, but you’ve got your own room and bathroom.”
Noah smiles at me. “I know you don’t really want me here, so thanks. It’s better than a hotel room, that’s for sure.”
“Hey, make yourself at home. Definitely better than a hotel. Want to unpack or want to play some video games?”
It’s an olive branch if I’ve ever extended one. This place is my haven from the world. From the press and all the negatives I’ve heard over the last few seasons about the Knights.
No point in my making things harder for both of us by ignoring Noah.
My teammate.
And my new roommate.
That’s going to take some getting used to.
“How about some video games?” Noah walks into the living room. “You got anything to drink?”
“Uhh.” Heading into the kitchen, I open the fridge to a few pre-cooked meals, moldy veggies, and a six-pack of beer. Thank God. Maybe a little buzz might help break the proverbial ice.
“Beer okay?”
“Sure.”
I hand one to Noah and he drops down onto the couch. Following suit, I grab the controllers, hand him one, and choose a hockey game that we’ll both be able to play. Firing up the game, we pick our players and start playing.
The silence doesn’t feel as heavy. Like we’re not going to go after one another for some stupid reason.
A memory from when we were kids slams into me. One I haven’t thought of in years.
It was one of the first times I was ever on the ice. Noah was the first one of us to play hockey, and I wanted to play.
Just like Noah.
I didn’t start out with a lot of skill, but Noah had patience. I couldn’t have been more than seven at the time, and he was already in high school, starting for the varsity team. He could have brushed me off, but he didn’t. Noah showed me all his tricks on how to train to be a better player.
I don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for him. To be here with him now after all of these years? It’s weird.
A thought that must be all over my face based on Noah’s next words.
“This is weird, right?” Noah asks. His character passes the puck to me, and I fire it into the goal. “Nice goal.”
“Thanks. If only it were this easy in real life, right?” I laugh, setting down the controller to grab a sip of my beer. “Kind of weird, yeah.”
“This is only temporary, I promise.”
I wave him off. “It’s fine. Like Marcus said, I have the room.”
“Do you?” Noah turns around. “Because no offense, but this is one tiny-ass condo.”
“Hey, I’m still on a rookie contract. If I’m going to get traded, I don’t want to worry about selling a huge place.”
“Yeah…” Noah turns his focus back to the game. “It fucking blows.”
I wince. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It happens to all of us.” Noah shrugs. “At least I don’t come with extra baggage.”
“What kind of baggage would that be?” I ask.
“A bunny.”
I nearly spit out my beer. “A bunny.”
Noah looks at me like I have three heads. “You have to know that Nick and I used to have a bunny.”
“You did? I so did not know about this.”
Noah smiles and picks up his controller as we restart the game. “Oreo. He was mostly Nick’s, but we lived together, and I liked the little guy.”
“Do I need to get you a bunny now to keep the peace?”
“Nah.” Noah does a complicated spin move and ends up getting another goal. “As long as you let me have my pre-game naps, I’ll be okay.”
“Duly noted.” I nod. “Anything else I should know?”
“Do you really want to know?” Noah eyes me before turning his attention back to the TV.
“Yes.”
He pauses the game. “Well, I enjoy cooking, and based on your reaction when you opened your fridge, you didn’t have much in there. If you help with groceries, I can cook for us.”
“Okay.”
“Other than that, hockey is twenty-four seven.”
“Same,” I agree.
Noah laughs. “That makes us sound pretty pathetic, right?”
“We probably need more of a life.”
“Eh. If it gets us a championship, I can have a life after hockey. Enjoy it more then.”
I wince. Hearing this and how I reacted at practice the other day? Considering hockey is my sole focus, it wasn’t the best way to handle things. “Look, I’m sorry about practice. I don’t really know what came over me and I snapped.”
“It’s okay.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. I don’t really think I made it easy on you to adjust to a new team and I’m sorry.”
“Consider us even. You’re helping me out with a place to stay until my condo is ready. If it ever is.”
“Deal.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle. “Are you going to the team picnic this weekend?”
“Planning on it.”
“Maybe we could ride over together?” I hate how unsure I sound. It’s not like it’s a hardship. We live together. It’d be stupid not to go together.
This whole thing of being nice to Noah is new. Something I’ll have to get used to.
“Sounds good.” Noah stands, heading to the kitchen and dropping his empty bottle in the blue recycling bin. “I don’t know if you like live music or not, but we could always go downtown after?”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m always up for that. One of the good parts about Nashville.”
Noah scrubs a hand over the back of his head. “Cool. I’m pretty beat, so I think I’m going to go get settled and hit the sack.”
“Alright.”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “Listen, I appreciate this.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Noah shakes his head, shoving his hands into his sweats and leaning against the counter. “Hopefully it won’t be too long. No more than two months.”
Standing, I head toward him and lean across the bar. “Take as long as you need. It’s not like I had anyone using the room.”
“Thanks.”
A couple of months. We can handle not killing each other for a couple of months. Hell, maybe we’ll even become friends by the time he leaves.
Let’s hope for that.