Chapter 2

Ivan

Training camp was usually fun.

You got to see your friends after the off-season, there was no pressure to do anything but work out, skate, and hang with the guys. This season was different, though. It was the first season with the new owner of the L.A. Phantoms pro hockey team, and while I adored my new boss, I had to keep my personal feelings about her under wraps. It seemed like the entire hockey world was watching and waiting for her to screw up so there was a lot of unspoken pressure on the team to succeed.

Or fail, depending on who you talked to.

There were a lot of opinions on the late Edward Barrowman's widow taking over the team. Twenty-five percent of the team liked her and was rooting for both her and the team's collective success. Twenty-five percent hated her and didn't really care about the team's success as long as the unwanted woman in a very male dominated industry went away. Sadly, the remaining fifty percent didn't care one way or the other, and in some ways, that was worse than the ones who hated her.

Being ambivalent meant they didn't go out of their way to hurt her, but they weren't going to help her either, and Harper needed our help.

I was probably biased because I cared about her as a person.

She was kind and giving and extremely hard-working and intelligent.

She was also engaged to our starting goalie, Gabe DeLugo, who happened to be one of my best friends. The situation added a layer of complication I'd never experienced in my hockey career, so training camp had felt like a never-ending lesson in futility. As one of the alternate captains, I wanted the locker room to be drama-free, but that had proven more difficult than I'd anticipated.

Trying to keep the haters from talking shit and the guys who didn't have an opinion to get on board was like a full-time job that had nothing to do with hockey. I felt compelled to do everything in my power to keep things in the locker room on an even keel, so I'd been working non-stop as an unofficial morale officer.

Our team captain, Jensen Bang, was part of the twenty-five percent who supported Harper, but some days it felt like Jensen, Gabe, and I were the only ones who really gave a shit. It wasn't entirely accurate, because there were others, but they didn't truly understand the intricacies of what was going on and how it would impact all of us going forward if the Phantoms didn't have a good season.

We'd come in dead last the previous two seasons, so we had something to prove, both to ourselves and to the hockey world. We were something of a joke around the league, which I hated, but Harper had cleaned house over the summer so many of the guys were new and hadn't lived it with us. Many of them resented being traded to the worst team in the NHL, and I couldn't blame them, so that was partly why I'd busted my ass to make training camp as positive as possible.

Unfortunately, we'd lost three out of four pre-season games, and everyone was in a bad mood tonight as we prepared for the first game of the season.

"All right, boys, listen up." Our head coach, Henrik Vanek, came in just before we were supposed to head out onto the ice, and firmly closed the door behind him. He was flanked by his two assistant coaches, our team General Manager, and a handful of support staff who were scurrying around checking equipment for us. Just before he continued, the door opened, and Harper came in.

This was going to be interesting.

I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring nod and she acknowledged with one of her own.

"I know there's a lot of pressure on us tonight," Henrik continued. "I see it in your eyes and felt it the minute I came into the room. But you have to put the past out of your mind. We spent the pre-season getting to know each other, and your performances weren't bad. We had a ton of rookies and minor leaguers with us that changed the dynamic, and most of them have gone down to our Santa Fe affiliate. I've had the opportunity to tweak lines and change things, so this is a fresh start. I want you to go out there and do what you do. It's as simple as that. Does anyone have questions? Thoughts? Anything pertinent to add before I turn this over to Ms. Barrowman?"

No one said a word, thankfully.

Harper stepped forward and looked around. I couldn't tell what she was thinking but I knew her well enough to sense she was nervous. She hid it well, though, in a navy-blue pinstriped power suit with a white shirt and high heels. Her hair was up in what was what I considered an overly severe bun, but she obviously knew what she was doing. She was every inch the no-nonsense, billionaire owner of a hockey team.

"We had a rough pre-season," she said after a moment. "I know it wasn't the best feeling to lose, but as Coach Vanek said, training camp afforded him the opportunity to see how you all play together. I don't have any fancy speeches or promises for you tonight. I just want you to go out there and show them who we are. You don't have to like me, but you need to play for yourself and for your teammates. Everything else is background noise and bullshit. Good luck tonight, boys."

She turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"You've got yourself quite the ball buster there, DeLugo," Philippe Lilleberg said, chuckling. Philippe didn't like Harper and made sure everyone knew it, every opportunity he got.

Normally, Gabe didn't let it get to him, but tonight he turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah? And? You like your women all quiet and subservient, right? So, they never have an opportunity to tell you what they really think of you."

"All right, boys, that's enough." Coach Vanek spoke up and gave Gabe a look. "We've talked about this ad nauseum, but I'll repeat myself, and I'll continue to repeat myself until it sinks in. We are a team. You don't have to like Ms. Barrowman, you don't have to like the changes she's made… hell, you don't even have to like me. But you do have to perform. That's what we're paying you for. You don't want to be here? The door is open. Ms. Barrowman has said you can approach her, or have your agents do it, no questions asked. Now, let's go out there and show them how it's done."

There were some fist bumps and a consensus of agreement, but overall, the team was subdued.

Which wasn't what we wanted on opening night.

Gabe and I exchanged worried glances, but there was nothing to be done about it. Not tonight anyway.

* * *

The first periodwas better than I'd hoped, with us scoring first and getting the crowd to come alive. Minnesota came back in the second, tying it up and making us falter a bit. But I was determined to make something happen in the third. Jensen and I exchanged a few words between periods, agreeing that he would throw his six-foot-five-inch body around, even if it meant taking some minor penalties, in order to get me and one of the new guys—Canyon Marks—the puck.

Between the two of us, and the spitfire rookie who'd been drafted in June, we were going to make something happen out there if it killed me.

I won the opening faceoff and passed the puck to Canyon. He'd been traded right at the start of training camp. A top scorer from New York, they hadn't been able to cover the ridiculous salary he demanded, so they'd let him go. I'd never met or played with him before, but he was known for being fast and a little scrappy. I didn't think he was too happy to be here, but he'd have to earn the salary Harper was paying him.

One of Minnesota's defensemen blocked Canyon's quick slapshot toward the net and tried to take out Jensen in the process, but Jensen put his shoulder down and all but ran through him. I snickered as Canyon took possession of the puck. He didn't have a passing lane to get it to me, so he took a quick shot, low on the goalie. It bounced right off the goalie's pad and onto my stick.

Yeah, baby.

This was the shit I lived for.

A quick flick of my wrist and the puck sailed over the goalie's outstretched arm.

That red light was the most beautiful sight in the world.

"Oh, fuck yeah!" Canyon grabbed me in a celebratory hug, and we were quickly joined by Jensen, the other D-man on our line Evan Laurenz, and our other winger, Teague Landry.

"This is how we do it!" Jensen growled.

"Woot!" Teague gave me a grin.

"Easy, boys," Coach said as we skated to the bench. "That's just one. No unnecessary penalties. Stay focused."

Now that we'd taken the lead, the strategy Jensen and I had come up with no longer applied. Even minor penalties could cost us the lead and the game, so we had to continue to be aggressive, but smart. It was always a balance.

Luckily, we managed to get the win and the mood in the locker room was downright jovial when it was over.

Gabe and I exchanged a look across the room, and he gave me a discreet nod.

Jensen was our captain, but Gabe was the unofficial morale officer in the room. He was the oldest, with the most experience, and that was one of many reasons Harper had brought him here. She'd made it happen before they ever dreamed of getting back together, so it had worked out well, but none of us harbored any illusions that this season would be easy.

"I'm proud of you," Coach said as he came into the room. "This is all we have to do. One down, eighty-one wins to go."

Everyone laughed as we headed back to the showers and dressing room.

Gabe and Jensen had been mobbed by the press, but I slipped out. If they wanted to talk to me, someone would find me, but for now, I was happy to lie low. I didn't need attention or accolades. My job was to score, not make a nuisance of myself. Harper and the team were already big hockey news simply by virtue of the lawsuit that began when Mr. Barrowman's sons contested the will.

Harper had won the legal battle for now, but media scrutiny and coverage of the team had been relentless since the first day of training camp.

"You looked good out there," Gabe said to me as we got dressed.

"Thanks. You looked pretty good for an old man yourself."

He casually flipped me the bird before pulling on his suit jacket. "You coming over tonight?"

He'd mentioned having a few of us over to the house after the game, just to get something to eat and hang out. He and Harper kept their inner circle small, so I was grateful to be part of it.

"Sure." I nodded. "Who's coming?"

"Jensen and Bailey, you, Coach and Autumn, and a few of Harper's friends." His eyes twinkled. "I think Cheyenne is coming."

I nearly groaned.

I'd had a hard-on for the gorgeous supermodel since I'd met her, but she'd stuck me firmly in the friend zone. That would have been okay—she was one of the most famous faces in the world, after all—except for the fact that I really liked her. She was so much more than a pretty face.

"You still haven't asked her out, have you?" He shook his head.

"She barely returns my texts. I'm not going to throw myself at her."

He shrugged. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend."

"Whatever." I knew he meant well but that didn't change the reality that she simply wasn't into me.

And there were plenty of fish in the sea.