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“Fair. But there are tons of boys who like water guns and hockey. It’s not hard.”
He frowns. “I didn’t do anything but play hockey from the time I was about eight. My dad didn’t allow it. I didn’t have friends other than my teammates, and Dad never let me go to parties or anything. I’m bad at it. Which is why I fucked up so bad when I got here. Coach Morrison knew it and took advantage.”
That’s something I didn’t know.
“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
“Dad was single-minded in his focus to get me to the pros, assuming I was good enough,” he says quietly. “And once he realized I was, the pressure was…non-stop. Private school, private lessons, the best of everything. Except I never got to be a kid. Never learned those interpersonal relationships. Add in my other…proclivity, and everything about my first season was one big clusterfuck.”
“I guess.” I give him a grin. “Except, you know, winning the championship. That part didn’t suck.”
He smiles. “No, that part definitely didn’t suck. I guess I can’t be too grumpy about things.”
“Look, you live with us and your secrets are safe. You play on a championship team, and let’s face it—how many nineteen-year-olds make a million dollars a year?”
He grins. “Okay, I have no reason to complain. Not today, at least.”
I clap him on the shoulder. “See? Come to me whenever you’re feeling sorry for yourself.”
“Okay, Dad.”
I laugh and flip him the bird. “Fuck off with that. I’m only eight years older—” I cut myself off abruptly when I see the woman with her back to me.
Great ass.
Dark hair with incredibly memorable pink and purple highlights. I’d know her hair anywhere—I spent a long time with my fist wrapped up in it.
She’s standing with my teammate, Reid Jamieson, and he has his arm around her shoulders.
Fuck.
Did she cheat on him with me?
That will be awkward as hell.
From where I’m standing, it looks like Reid just introduced her to Coach Teller, and she’s smiling warmly.
“What are you looking at?” Blaze stage whispers.
I grunt. “No one.”
“Looks like someone to me.”
Yeah. Someone named Maya.
Who’s wearing a baseball jersey that has Reid’s number, along with his last name at the top.
Motherfucker.
Chapter Eight
Maya
I’m so excited to meet Reid’s teammates. This will be his first season here so I’m hoping I’ll be able to spend some time with everyone.
“It’s pretty cool that you’re working on Dusty Peaks,” the team’s head coach, Jamie Teller, says. “We’re all vying to be extras. Our daughter, Simone, is determined to get a part.”
“How old is she?” I ask.
