In the Crease (Connecticut Commodores #3)

8. Ryan

8

RYAN

The buzzer sounded. For an eternal second, the whole world paused, and it was just me, alone in my crease, slowly realizing what had happened. What I’d done.

The moment broke. Before I could snap my helmet off, the guys jumped over the boards and raced to me. A group hug squeezed me so tight that I lost my balance and fell backward onto the ice. They crashed on me in a dogpile, stealing my breath and making everything real somehow.

I’d gotten a shutout.

My first as a Commodore. My first in the league.

A grin split my face while they slowly disentangled. Someone reached down to help me up. I got to my feet and focused on Ethan’s wide grin.

“Goddamn, Molls. Hell of a game!”

It was the first time in my memory he didn’t call me Sieve. I stared for a moment and then burst out laughing. Ethan chuckled, clapped my back, and danced toward the boards. I removed my helmet and followed him to the hallway.

Audrey was there—with her hovering right behind. I nodded and kept walking, but Audrey grabbed my sleeve.

“Uh-uh, buddy. You’re the star of the game. Get over here.”

“What?” I understood the words. I just couldn’t believe they applied to me.

Dustin punched my arm. He, too, was waiting to skate the victory circle. “That’s what happens when you stonewall twenty shots, dude. Killer game. Killer .” He held up a gloved hand for a fist-bump.

Is this happening? What were the odds? How the fuck did I do that?

I mean, I knew how. Practice yesterday had gone well. I wasn’t trying for Quinn’s acrobatics, but it felt good to keep working on this new approach. At warmup, I tried to shut off my brain and get in the zone. The imposter syndrome that kicked off at the press conference finally quieted. Without it, I was just me, doing the thing I loved best.

Again, my own personal goalie Force.

The thought made me smile as I took a quick breath and hopped back onto the ice. I waved, and the fans answered with a deafening cheer. When I got back to the door, I hurried down the hall, deliberately not glancing over at Audrey or her wide-eyed companion.

In the locker room, though, my gaze landed on Yoda while I stripped out of my gear. Adrenaline that had nothing to do with the game spiked my pulse. How dare she touch my things? How could she possibly say yes to Audrey’s request for an interview? Her gall knew no bounds.

“Still smiling over your shutout, Molloy? Can’t blame you.”

My head jerked at Max’s comment. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Thanks, man.”

He clapped my back and went for the shower. Impulsively, I grabbed my phone. It took two seconds to find her latest post: “Is it cheating if I say go Ryan?”

Don’t read this crap. It’s bad for your focus. And she is not your good luck charm. I couldn’t help myself. I also knew I shouldn’t like hearing her say my name, and yet.

I slid the phone on the shelf beside Yoda and headed to shower. As I toweled off and pulled on my jeans and flannel shirt, Gene shouted over the chitchat. “Ana’s mother is visiting, or I’d say party at my house. But every one of you better get your ass to The Pub to toast Molloy, you understand?”

“Yes, Captain!” came the collective shout.

Gene pointed at me. “See you there, man.”

I lagged behind the guys to the bar. My feet crunched the gravel parking lot, hands in jacket pockets, mind very much split between replaying the game and ridiculously fixated on that whole Yoda exchange yesterday.

I stepped onto the porch to find the door open. Tony stood with his arms crossed, barricading the way. He pointed out into the night. “Closed party, sweetheart. Can’t have someone like you in here right now.”

“No, but I’m Vinny’s sister. And-and Audrey said I could…”

“Do. Not. Care.”

A laugh slipped out of me as I approached. She had balls, I had to admit. Part of me hated that she was here now. That she was going to interview me. That she had gone from a foolish, fleeting memory to damn near everywhere I went.

Part of me couldn’t stop wondering at the odds.

And a larger part of me than I wanted to admit fucking loved the way she’d suddenly stumbled into my life. I knew I shouldn’t love it, that I should let her be a stranger.

Yet again, shoulds seemed quite irrelevant.

“Oh, look. You found more trouble,” I said when I reached the doorway. “Why am I not shocked?”

Her black hair whipped across her face, attention snapping from Tony to me. Dread filled her eyes, even in the low light. “Well, uh. Kind of, yeah.”

I quirked a brow and looked at Tony. With a gesture to her, I nodded. “She’s with me, Tony.”

His jaw dropped. “Ryan, buddy, that’s?—”

“Mm-hm, I know who she is. Trouble. But I’ve got an eye on her. Promise.”

He shrugged. “Anything for the man of the night.”

“Come on.” I walked inside without looking back. My goalie senses let me track her even though she trailed behind. Once we were near the bar, I turned to her. “Find Audrey and Stella or whoever told you to come here. Don’t do anything like start filming us or whatever else you’d scheme up.”

Her lips pursed. “Can I interview you yet?”

“No way. I’m here to celebrate.”

“Well, can I at least congratulate you?”

My grin damn near broke my face. It surprised the hell out of me. It’s okay to celebrate, man. You got a fucking shutout. You should be thrilled. “You? Congratulate me? Figured I’d ruined your night by winning. Rude of me, I know.”

Humor sparked despite her tense shoulders, just as I’d hoped. “You really were kind of gross out there. It was almost as if luck was on your side.”

Dammit . Stop flirting with her. Every time we talked felt like foreplay. I hadn’t flirted with anyone in years and was rusty as hell at it, but she kept me smirking and ready to tease. “Wonder how that could’ve happened?”

Her lashes fluttered as she dropped her gaze to the floor and then peeked back up at me. “I’m sure I don’t know,” she drawled. “But I think we both have to start remembering that I’m not your enemy, Ryan Molloy.”

My smile slipped. “Right. You’re a journalist .”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, but she hid it fast. “Exactly. So before you go celebrate your incredible luck, can we schedule an interview?”

“Ugh, fine. I can meet you at the diner tomorrow. Good enough?”

“Tomorrow is good, but we can’t go to the diner in Seacrest. People will talk.”

I shrugged. “You want to just go to Audrey’s office? She can get us a conference room or something.”

Nica bit her lip. “If we have to. But I think this will go better if you’re more relaxed. Is there somewhere not as public as a restaurant where we could hang out? Maybe then it’ll just feel like a conversation.”

“With someone I don’t want to talk to,” I added, knowing full well it was a lie. I wanted to talk to her. Wanted to stand there all night talking so I could know her better. So I could feel the rush she inexplicably gave me.

Lie or not, hurt flashed in her eyes again. “Fine. Audrey’s office. Whatever.”

She turned to walk away, and my Goalie Force kicked in. I snagged her fingers before I realized what I’d done. Nica froze. Her gaze hit our hands and then my face, clearly asking what the hell I was doing.

I wet my lips and spoke fast, releasing her as I did. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

That got me the daring spark I wanted. She pursed her lips. “Then why did you say it?”

“I, ah, figured you’d call out my bullshit.” My ears heated to admit it.

Nica didn’t laugh, though. She gazed at me and shook her head. “I wouldn’t assume it was bullshit that you wanted nothing to do with me.”

I ruffled my hair. “I just… Never mind. Meet me at the practice rink tomorrow, okay? I’m sorry I was rude.”

At last, at fucking last, I got a little smile. “Between the shutout and now, you’ve been insulting me all night.”

I breathed a laugh. “I’ll be nicer. Promise.”

“Oh, don’t worry about being nice . I can handle the insults. But you better atone for it. I expect good coffee, two milks no sugar, when I see you tomorrow. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Her blue-gray eyes rolled. “Obviously, I’m joking. See you tomorrow.”

“Stay out of trouble, okay?”

“Promise to sort of try.”

I nodded and turned to the table where the guys had gathered. I allowed myself a glance back at her as I did. She watched me, but when our eyes connected, she blinked several times. With a toss of her long hair, she strolled over to where Audrey and Stella were sitting at a high-top.

I nearly collided with the table because I was so busy watching her. My hand grabbed the chair just in time. I pulled it out with a loud scrape on the wood floors and dropped down to sit.

Max and Yuri gaped at me. Dustin’s gaze bounced from me to her several times.

Max cleared his throat. “Dude. That girl you’re checking out. Do you have any idea who that is?”

“I do.”

“Do you know the shit she’s given you?”

I cut him a glare.

All three of them exchanged a look. Yuri laughed. “Damn, man. I didn’t know you were into punishment.”

“I hang around you guys all the time. What did you think that was?”

Gene stood up with a glass in hand, ready to make his speech. I fixed my gaze on him and smiled. For the rest of the night, I refused to allow myself another glance her way.

But as soon as I got home, I jumped on my laptop to see what I could learn about Mrs. Quentin Paris.