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Forget turning out like my dad, a measly professional athlete. Or my mother, a mere award-winning songwriter. I was going to be Stanley Cup and rule the fucking world. I can’t remember who burst my bubble. Probably my twin brother, Wyatt. He’s an unrepentant bubble burster.
Even Mom, who pretends to be annoyed with all the obnoxious nicknames spawned in the hockey sphere, slips up sometimes. She asked Stanley to pass her the potatoes last week at dinner. Because she’s a traitor.
“Better skedaddle, Gisele, before you piss off Garrett Graham.” I skate over to Ryder, playing dumb. “Garrett who?” “Are you shitting me right now? You don’t know who Garrett Graham is?” “Is he famous or something?” Ryder stares at me. “He’s hockey royalty. This is his camp.” “Oh. Yeah. I only follow figure skaters.”
“Sorry, Dad,” I call out, sheepish. “I was just messing around.” I hear a choked noise. Ryder sidles up to me, those blue eyes darkening. I tip my head to flash him an innocent smile. “What?” “Dad?” he growls under his breath. “You’re Garrett Graham’s kid?” I can’t help laughing at his indignation. “Not only that, but I’m helping with your shooting drills today.” His eyes narrow. “You play hockey?” I reach over to pat his arm. “Don’t worry, prom king, I’ll go easy on you.”
Chad Jensen is the most decorated coach in college hockey. Twelve Frozen Four forays and seven wins during his tenure at Briar. He holds the record for championship wins— Graham: Does your father-in-law pay you to be his hype man? Or you do it for free to score approval points? Connelly: Says the man who won three of those seven championships under Jensen. Graham: Yeah, all right. So we’re both biased.
The muffled sounds of overgrown man-children in the tunnel trigger my excitement.
“I sort of feel bad for the Eastwood guys,” I remark. “I don’t feel bad at all,” Camila replies, smiling broadly. “They’re going to provide us with entertainment for at least a year.”
“He’s fucking sexy,” Whitney says. “It’s the slutty bad-boy dick magic,” Cami pipes up. “Makes them hotter.” We all snicker. “Is he a slutty bad boy?” Whitney asks. Cami laughs and says, “Well, the bad-boy thing is pretty self-evident. Just look at him. But yeah, he’s totally got a reputation for hooking up. But not, like, in a conventional way.”
“God, that’s hot,” Whitney breathes. “Breaking up a fight?” I ask, amused. “No, he managed to shut Trager up. Goddamn miracle right there.” “Sexiest thing anyone could ever do,”
“But I’m also not naive enough to think that me saying those words makes it so. I’m not a fucking fairy godmother who waves a wand and then life is perfect, all right?
then life is perfect, all right?
There was an unfortunate incident in the past, and neither I personally, nor the university itself, will place ourselves in that position again. We have been pet-free for twenty years and will remain that way for eternity. Understood?”
What happened to Pablo?
“I’d like it on the record that I didn’t want to be captain and you’re all assholes for doing this to me.” Shane hoots. “Yeah, tough shit,” Rand tells me, rolling his eyes. “They threw Colson’s name out there. What else were we supposed to do?” “Not pick me?” I suggest coldly.
“You host a show with Jake Connelly, the most beautiful man in the world. Trust me, you’re going to get the views.” “Nope, nope, nope,” he groans. “You know how I feel when you talk about Connelly’s stupid looks. It triggers my crippling inferiority.” I snort out a laugh. “What is it with you and your mother thinking that guy is handsome? He’s average, at best.” “Oh, he’s definitely not average.” “Agree to disagree.”
All I know is, he’s good. Incredible, actually. He inherited the musician gene from Mom. But the thing that sucks most about my brother? He also inherited Dad’s talent. Dude can play hockey too. And play it well. He just doesn’t want to. My brain can’t wrap itself around that. Who wouldn’t want to play hockey? What the hell’s wrong with him?
“There’s a lot of sushi on here now. This alarms me.” Will snickers. “Maybe they can rename the place Sue’s Sushi.” “No, it should be Sue’s Super Sushi Shop. Say that five times.” “And then they could start serving soup and change it to Sue’s Super Sushi and Soup Shop.” “Oh, even better.”
“Don’t worry. At least one Briar hockey program will win the Frozen Four this year. The women will get it done for you, sweetie.”
“Yeah, for sure.” I like Miller. I’m sad he’s leaving. “That is a bummer. Why can’t Trager be the one transferring?” “Because we can’t have nice things.”
Garrett Graham’s daughter is hot. She was hot when I met her six years ago, and she’s even hotter now.
“I forgot how magical your personality is.”
I smirk. “Going pretty well for me. I’m co-captain.” “Co-captain of a team in shambles. Impressive.” She smiles sweetly.
“Oh, sorry,” Patrick says hastily. “I mean, are you kidding me? No f-bomb.” “Since when do I give a fuck about your language?” Coach says. “I care about the interruption. Shut up.”
Lucky Colson. Guess that’s what happens when you bang the man’s daughter.
Fuck the laws of physics and fuck you
“Is that what you need from people? To be told what a good girl you are?”
I think I like him better when he doesn’t talk.
“It’s International Eat an Apple Day.” He lifts his gaze. “Seemed like something we should celebrate.” I stare at him. “You’re making that up.”
thing. “I really like apples,” he says, carelessly smug. “You know, I think I like this Ryder. I had no idea you were so quirky.” “I am not quirky,” he growls. “Then why are we celebrating your love of apples?”
“I didn’t say you were very good. I said you were phenomenal.” “And I said you’re very good.”
“Bro, I showed you my contract. I can afford it. Besides, I’m investing in future talent here. I can’t have my protégé not making it to practice on time.”
“I’m Gigi.” Shane’s handshake lingers, as does his seductive gaze. “Short for Gisele, right?” I snatch my hand back and glower at Ryder. “Actually, no. Not at all. Prom king over here is just an ass.” Shane starts to laugh. “Aw, look at that,” he says to his friend. “You two have your own inside jokes. How adorable.”
“Nice seeing you, Gisele.” “Look what you’ve started,” I accuse Ryder. “I refuse to believe your name isn’t short for something,” is his response. “It’s really not. Blame my father. He’s the one who named me. Mom was in charge of my brother’s name and she picked a normal one.”
“Your dogs are named Dumpy and Bergeron?” “Yes. Got a problem with that?” “Sort of.”
“Sweetie. You’re Briar hockey.” He cringes. I laugh in sheer delight. “Aw, you just hate to hear that, don’t you?
The email from the Briar PR lady stated the dress code as semiformal to black tie. A.k.a. the kind of fashion extremes that give me anxiety.
“She thinks number one draft pick looks good on the resume when chatting up potential donors.” “Does she understand you’re physically incapable of the chatting part?” I inquire politely. “Because you’d think someone would’ve warned her.” “You’d think.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” Ryder asks me. “Do you ever start talking?” I ask him.
“Mom was, like, Let’s give it a shot. Who knows, we might love it. So we spent an entire afternoon trying it out. Dad hates golf and tennis, so he played squash and discovered he hated that more than those other two combined. He stole the racket and took it home and burned it in our fireplace. Mom was annoyed when they told her the dress code for women was only white or pastels. And it was the furthest thing from mine and Wyatt’s scene. We did some skeet shooting, and Wyatt got pissed because I outshot him, so he stomped off and tried to score weed from one of the kitchen workers.” I chuckle
...more
“What now?” “Now we mingle.” “Kill me,” he begs. “How do you feel about murder-suicide? I could easily kill you, but I don’t think I can kill myself, so you’ll need to murder me and then take care of yourself. Is that something you’re comfortable doing?” He looks at me. “Forget I said anything.”
“Yeah, and you’re even worse than you made yourself out to be. Would it kill you to smile?” I peer at him over the rim of my glass. “I’ve seen you do it, so I know your face is capable of arranging the muscles in that way.”
“Young people should always be kind to the elderly.” They both balk at me. “Oh, I’m going to remember that,” Dean growls. “I’m telling your father,” Logan adds. “He knows he’s old. You don’t need to remind him.”
“I texted her earlier to confirm. All good.” “Texting with our co-captain’s ex-girlfriend. Look at you, living on the edge over here.”
“Hey, Daddy is the reason we’re here, isn’t he? So I can talk you up to him?” She offers a saccharine smile. “So I’ve either got a famous dad who can benefit you and you don’t complain about it, or I don’t and you’re shit out of luck. Can’t have it both ways, prom king.”
“You’re showing people my film? That’s so cute. I knew you were obsessed with me.”
“There was no luring involved. I was bored and decided to do you all a favor by gracing you with my presence.”
“I’m just saying, you could make an effort over here. You know, Hey Gigi, how was your day? Do you have big plans for this weekend?” “How was your day? Do you have big plans this weekend?”
“I’ve never heard him speak so many words at one time. And then to punctuate it with a compliment? Did you drug him?”
But those words, the go-ahead to keep pursuing Gigi, can’t seem to leave my mouth.
“Now, there is nothing I hate more in this world than team-building activities,” Jensen continues. “With that said, I have great news—I was informed that I personally don’t have to participate, so…” For once in his life, Jensen is positively beaming. “I’d like to introduce you to Sheldon and Nance Laredo. Do everything they ask, or you’re off the team. I’ll leave you to it.” I half expect him to put some flowers in his hair and skip off the stage like a giddy schoolgirl. He chuckles all the way to the exit.
“Someone. Please. Please kill me now,” Rand Hawley mumbles. “I’ll pay you.”
