“I’m super excited and kind of nervous,” I admit.
“You got this. Show them what you’re made of,” he says. See, my brother isn’t a bad guy, he’s all about saying inspirational stuff like that and we are super close. “But what’s with the outfit?” His nose scrunches. Okay, so he isn’t perfect.
“Stop it. I’m trying a new look,” I explain.
Ryse groans, “You keep everything about this story PG, do you hear me?”
“Stop behaving like my father,” I chide.
This makes Ryse even angrier because we don’t have a father. I think it might be why he feels obligated to take on the role.
“I’m looking out for you,” he whispers. “The guys on this team are all about sex. A guy on this team got a girl knocked up just last year. I don’t want you being a statistic.” I know he’s genuinely worried that I won’t mess up my life and I appreciate him for it.
“I’m a big girl. You need to start accepting I can look after myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” I walk past my brother and head to Declan.
I stand beside him with my notebook open.
Declan looks at me and waits.
“How are you?” I ask.
He looks from one side to the other like he’s making sure I am speaking to him. Then he points at himself. Like he is really unsure if my attention is directed at him.
I nod. “Yes, you. How is your morning? Are you excited for the upcoming season?”
Declan tilts his head to the side and he squints. “Have we met before?” He bites his lower lip.
“Poppy from The Gazette,” I say, feeling a blush crawl up my neck. This is the second time he hasn’t remembered me. Damn. Am I that unmemorable?
“Oh wow, mmm.” He swipes his hand over the stubble on his chin. “Did not recognize you.” He then checks me out blatantly. His gaze running over every inch of my body and I feel exposed.
I clear my throat. “Why don’t you continue your workout and I’ll ask some questions?”
“Okay, yeah.” He nods but I feel like he’s being weird, not that I know him at all. “So you know Ryse?”
I process that he didn’t remember who I was and yet he was checking me out while speaking with my brother. “Yes.”
I take it as my turn to ask the next question. “Do you like working out in the gym?”
“Yeah, it’s not bad. It’s part of the training. We have to stay in peak physical shape,” he says, and he goes on a rant about the importance of exercise for an athlete. It’s clearly not going to be good stuff for a story so I try to redirect him.
“Did you work out a lot when you were a kid too?” I ask.
He pauses. “What do you mean?” He places each of his hands on his waist. He’s clearly out of breath from the lunges.
He’s sweaty too and it’s so sexy. Focus, I admonish myself.
“Where did you grow up?” I redirect again.
“Detroit,” he says.
“Were you recruited from a high school there?” I ask.
“I was on the Tier 1 Detroit team.”
“Did you play since you were small?” I ask.
“Not as young as some of the guys. Maybe around ten.” That surprises me because I know that some of these guys have been skating and playing hockey since they were walking.
“Did you always know you wanted to play hockey?” I ask.
His lips press together and he gives me a pensive look. “I’m not really one of those open book kind of guys,” he explains. “I’m private and I know you need a story but. . .”
Geez. Does this have to do with his secret?
“No worries,” I say trying to ease the tension. “I can think of something else to focus on.”
Declan continues his workout. He moves to the floor next and starts doing sit-ups at a crazy fast pace.
The Coach walks over. “How you feeling, McAvoy?”
“Really good, Coach,” he says and he doesn’t stop with his sit-ups.
“Good,” the coach nods and looks at me. “And you are. . .”
“Poppy from The Gazette,” I answer.
“Ah! You’re doing the Spotlight on our man here,” he says.
“Yes.” I nod and smile.
“He’s going to draft at the end of this season. I can feel it. Wouldn’t be surprised if he gets multiple offers,” Coach says and Declan just continues on with his sit-ups, changing his motions with every rep.
“That must be very exciting,” I say to the coach.
“We’ve got a good team this year. Last year was a bust with the Frozen Four but this year we are going big,” the coach says to me. “Right, McAvoy?”
“Yes, sir,” Declan pants through his sit-ups.
The coach walks away and I wait, watching Declan. He is a sight to see with his biceps working and now that he’s switched it up, I catch his strong legs too. Every inch of him is hard defined muscle. My dirty mind drifts to things it shouldn’t but I refocus quickly.
“What inspired you to play hockey?” I ask.
I wait. And wait some more. . . no answer.
“You’re the one who told me to meet you here,” I remind him. “If you can’t talk while working out, why did you tell me to come?” I ask, my voice filled with irritation.
“I can talk while working out. You’re just asking the wrong questions,” he answers.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. “And what might the right questions be?”
He stops with his sit-up routine, stands up to his full height, and grabs a water bottle off the floor. He gulps it down and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. Even his neck is sexy. When he stops drinking, he watches me.
I cock my right brow.
“I don’t know what the right questions are, Poppy,” he finally says and for some reason he doesn’t come across as being mean, just honest. I exhale and along with my breath my nerves settle.
“Why don’t you come by the house tonight?” he suggests. “Maybe that might be a more helpful environment.”
“Okay, what time?” I ask.
“Around seven is good. We’ve got a game tomorrow night so there won’t be any partying going on,” he explains.
“Can I get the address?” I ask because I’m not supposed to know where he lives. He clearly doesn’t remember me from Black Market.
“I’ll text it to you,” he says. I turn to leave and as I’m walking through the gym, one of the guys from the team whistles at me. If I remember correctly his name is Liam. I think Ryse said he was their center. Ryse walks over to Liam and smacks the side of his head.
“What was that for?” Liam asks.
I roll my eyes at my brother. “That act is getting old.”
“It’ll never get old,” Ryse retorts, and Liam looks between us with his face scrunched.
“I’ll be seeing you later,” I say to my brother.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks.
“It means I’m coming by the hockey house later,” I reply, and I don’t give my brother a chance to react. I speed walk back to the locker room. I may not have made any headway with Declan today, but tonight will have to be different.