Chapter 13

Jack walkedinto the dressing room. He felt oddly naked not carrying his stuff with him. No clanking of his equipment, no musky scent of sweat-soaked pads. When he practiced with the Snowballs, they always had to hustle to clear out of the dressing room, and the routine was ingrained in his muscle memory. Now, all his equipment had a home in the metal lockers. They even had a guy who cleaned and sanitized their equipment. After this, he was never going to play so clean again in his life.

"Look who decided to show." Johansson shot him an unimpressed look while he applied tape to his left knee.

Jack didn"t respond to that. He knew better than to stoke the flames with excuses or explanations. He doubted there had been an announcement from management in the dressing room about how he was allowed to miss practice for a girl. The truth—his truth—seemed insignificant against the backdrop of rumours that must have been circulating like norovirus. The guys had all seen the headlines.

He imagined what he"d be thinking about himself had he been on the other side, and none of it was good. He"d known plenty of F-boys in his time with the AHL. The second they miffed it on the ice, every guy on the team was thinking the same thing. It meant he had to kill it out there to prove his priorities were lined up. To prove he belonged there with the rest of them.

Jack stopped at his locker and opened it. The door slammed with a clang as he wrestled with his bag and pulled out his gear.

"Special privileges if you"re making press, eh?" Nathan said next to him. He smiled to make the comment seem like a joke, but Jack knew it wasn"t.

"I"m here to play." Jack stripped off his sweatshirt and pulled on his base shirt.

"Which game, though, bud?" Tkachuk shot him a look, then sat on the bench to lace up his skates.

Nathan nudged his shoulder. "It"s bringing people out to the games, so it"s good for the team. These assholes are just jealous you were with Delia last night and they were left tugging chubs in the shower."

Jack chuckled and left that alone. He didn"t love that they were all making assumptions about his sex life, but the idea of setting the record straight was worse. He flew out to Toronto to see her, and the whole world knew she"d been with him at his hotel. When he"d seen the pictures at the airport the next morning, it hadn't registered that it was him. He looked confident. Cool next to Delia with her auburn waves. It was like there was a version of himself with rizz that he was only privy to through camera lenses.

Jack finished suiting up and was just starting to lace his skates as the buzz of the dressing room tapered into a focused silence. All attention converged on Coach Novak, who stood on top of the Blizzard logo, clipboard in hand.

"Morning, gentlemen," he began. "Today, we"re going to focus on refining our power play strategies. We"ve got a chance to turn the tide this season, but it"s going to require every single one of you to push harder, think faster, and work together more seamlessly than ever before."

Assistant Coach Kreviasuk took over, diving into the tactical nuances, dissecting video clips of their previous games with critique. "Here," he pointed at the screen, "is where we need to adjust. The Oilers won"t let that pass." He outlined a few play adjustments, then sent them to the ice. Before Jack could exit, he heard his name and turned.

Lisa Carter was there next to the water station. She motioned for him to leave the flood of players and join her. He set his helmet on the bench and leaned his stick against the lockers as she handed him a paper.

"This is a preliminary press schedule for the next week. It"s built around your training and game commitments, of course. We were also hoping you could set up a time to film with Country—you"re still on good terms from your time with the Snowballs, yes?"

Jack nodded. "I didn"t realize you knew anything about my past team."

Lisa smiled. "We"re careful about who we bring onto this team, Jack. Even when the fan base is clamouring for movement."

"Yeah. I can reach out to Country." Jack had already told him he"d come on the show when he didn"t have a game, he just hadn"t put a date on the calendar. He"d been a bit distracted the last week.

"We think it would be best if that was filmed with Delia present, too."

Jack lowered the paper. "That"s not up to me. She"s recording a new album in Toronto."

"Don"t worry about the logistics. I think we"ve almost got that covered."

Jack frowned. Almost got what covered? It should"ve been off-putting to be a pawn in a game when he couldn"t even see the chessboard, but it didn"t. The sensation was normal. That was almost more disturbing than being blindly obedient.

How many times had he shown up to practices and worked his ass off knowing he had no control over what decision would be made behind the curtain? The idea that he could only perform to the best of his ability and then he"d have to cross his fingers and pray for the rest had been ingrained in him since the time he could barely skate.

"Okay, I"ll rearrange my schedule to make sure I"m available." Jack folded the paper and walked back. A metal clank made him jump. He opened his own locker and slipped in the paper, then went down the front aisle to see what the ruckus was.

Jack smiled to himself. Liam MacDonald, a Rookie from Boise, Idaho, scrambled to put on his clothes. "You need anything?" Jack asked.

Liam grunted. "I don"t need smug-ass comments."

Jack stopped on the other side of his locker. "I was a hardship claim, bud. I"m the last person in here who"s going to judge you for showing up late to practice."

Liam looked up, then shoved his head through the neck hole of his jersey. It was enough for Jack to see the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and watery. He was either high at the moment or severely hungover. A pit opened up in Jack"s stomach. Liam had to be nineteen, barely, and Jack remembered what that looked like. He hadn"t even been signed to an NHL team and he still could"ve been at parties four nights a week if he wanted to. The drugs. The women throwing themselves at him. Here are all these attractive men who aren't emotionally available because they've had boobs in their faces since high school. That comment out of Delia's mouth had stung.

The truth was, Jack would"ve been sucked in like the rest of them without Brad and James to keep him on the straight and narrow. They were at the gym religiously every morning at six, and since he was rooming with them, the peer pressure to get his ass out of bed and join them was intense. Especially since they were all competing for the same NHL slots. Then a few years later, Brad introduced him to his cousin Angela. At that point, any speck of desire that had existed for him to party had been extinguished. The boys kept him focused, and Ange had kept him safe. He"d seen plenty of guys burn out, get DUI"s, OD, or stop caring because they liked weed and porn more than working till they puked at practice.

"I"m Jack Harrison." He put out his hand, but Liam didn"t take it.

"Yeah. I know who you are."

"You"re strong out there on the ice. It"s impressive." Jack wasn"t pandering. He"d noticed MacDonald at his first practice. The kid was as quick as a loon taking flight over Muskoka and almost as graceful. Plus he had a shoulder on him. And enough angst to fuel it.

"Thanks, Gramps."

Jack chuckled. "You"re a little shit. That"s okay, though. I was, too." He clapped him once on the shoulder pad and exited the dressing room.

Practice went fast, especially because Jack felt like he was huffing paint. His lungs burned, which made no sense. He"d only spent twenty-four hours at lower altitude, and even though he took the evening off to hang out with Delia and Mary, he"d still done sets at the gym before his flight. He was going to have to find a way to squeeze in more conditioning, especially if his media appearances were going to take him away from practice.

After he showered, Jack looked over the sheet Lisa had given him and compared it with his calendar. He"d gotten to the following Monday when a message popped up. His heart snagged when he read Delia"s name. He clicked on the message.

You get home ok?

Yep, just finished practice

Jack typed out a few options for what he could ask her but then deleted them. Did you get home safe? Seemed a little late to ask that question. He"d thought about texting the night before, but a midnight text felt weirdly intimate when she knew he was alone in the hotel room she"d just vacated. Did you have a good day? Lame. And unnecessary. They didn"t need to know about each other"s days. They only needed to know where their next meeting was. But Delia had just asked if he got home safely . . .

When will you be home?

The tips of Jack"s fingers tingled. Why did she want to know that? Why did he want her to know that?

Packing up. I"ll be home in thirty. Everything good?

The idea that Delia might need something from him or have a problem he could help with sent his pulse racing. He lowered his phone and reached for his shirt hanging on the hook in his locker. Delia had texted back by the time he pulled it over his head.

I"m in a green room. They don"t have tea, so basically dying

Jack grinned and knew exactly what to text next.

Do they have toothbrushes, though? Then you can at least dig into the squirrel food

No squirrel food either. Only candy and gross protein bars

For the squirrels on a bulk

He sent it too fast to question whether that was actually funny, then stared at the messages. Delia was in a green room? She hadn"t mentioned anything about a show tonight, though they hadn"t talked about anything beyond Bond girls and pizza toppings. It had been nice. Simple. Not real though.

OMG of course that would be your first thought

Jack laughed.

"God"s gift to women" doesn"t happen on accident. Also, why are you in a green room?

The three dots appeared below his message, then disappeared. Jack was already imagining her biting on her lower lip. He needed to stop. He had a thousand other things he should be thinking about right now, including but not limited to how he had three pending distribution agreements that needed finessing before they were going to be accepted, as well as his current conditioning predicament. This was a relationship he didn"t need to spend any time on.

But maybe that was the problem. After Ange he didn"t want to put time in . . . but that was all he knew. He knew what real was. He knew what he was capable of, and he wasn"t used to half-assing anything in his life.

I"m the musical guest for "Late Night with Ken Massey". Airs tonight at midnight MST

Jack audibly gasped, then cleared his throat to cover it up in case any of his teammates heard. She was doing a Late Night show? How had that not come up yesterday?

It was last minute. Tony phoned me after I got home. Otherwise, I would"ve told you

Something warmed in his chest. No. It didn"t matter. He didn"t need to know what was going on in her life. Though, it was probably good that he did. Kind of awkward if someone asked about it and he had no idea what his girlfriend had on her schedule.

I"ll watch. Good luck

Break legs. We don"t say good luck because it"s actually bad luck

Who"s we?

Performers. Actors. All the people you didn"t know growing up because you were too cool

I wasn"t too cool for the drama nerds. I mean drama kids

I KNEW IT

Why would you make the one phrase used universally to give blessings of luck to mean the opposite?

We had nothing to do with the decisions of our predecessors

Feels like you could have a town hall meeting or something

I'll put that on my list. K, they just knocked on my door

Break legs?

Exactly

Don't ever say that to me before a game

What should I say?

I don't know. Beat the shit out of them?

That sounds mean

I play hockey, Delia

That's why I don't watch

Your stance on luck statements is why I don't listen to lyrics. It's a picket line I won't cross

Leaving now

It's a good thing you aren't a Bond girl. You'd be dead before you left the hallway

At least I wouldn't be bound by a no-sex contract

Jack laughed out loud. When he looked up, he discovered that half the dressing room was empty. Only Lindholm and Monahan were still getting dressed behind him, and by the few creaks and slams the next aisle over, he assumed it looked much the same over there.

"Night, Jack." Monahan picked up his coat and waved as he headed to the door.

Jack hung his skates and left his dirty jersey and pads on the bench for cleaning. Again, it felt wrong not to be packing all his gear out to his truck. He closed his locker and walked down the aisle, nearly running into Liam as he stormed out of the washroom looking green around the gills. "Easy bud."

Liam muttered something under his breath and shoved past him. Jack didn"t push back, though he wanted to. In the old days, something like that would"ve been enough for him to go to the coaches. Suggest mentorship or training to get a player straight. But that"s what had gotten him in trouble in the first place. You think you know my players better than I do?

Hell, yes, he had. But the more he pushed, the less playing time he got.

Lace his skates. Zip his trap. Show up at the media spots and dance monkey, dance.

Jack exhaled and pushed through the dressing room door into the hall.

_____

"You"re going to fall asleep." Jack dropped onto the chair in the living room next to Clara and Oscar. Oscar laid on the couch with his head propped up on the pillows, and Clara was draped over him, snuggled into his chest.

Clara grunted. "No I"m not. My shower was just too hot."

Oscar played with her hair, and Clara"s eyes flickered every time his knuckles brushed against her temple. "Do you have a shift at eight?"

Clara nodded. "I only have two like that this week. Thursday"s off so I can recover then."

"We can DVR this. You don"t have to watch it live." Jack lifted the remote, but Clara put out an arm in protest.

"Stop it! I want to see your fake girlfriend on live TV!"

Jack gave her a look. "It"s not even live. She was taping hours ago."

Clara put her finger in her ear and started humming. "Stop ruining this for me. I can pretend it"s live if I want to."

Jack picked up his bag of chips and shook his head. "You"re ridiculous."

"Shhh!" Clara pointed at the TV as the theme music started.

"Does the musical guest come on closer to the end?" Oscar asked.

Clara nodded. "Like after the first interview, and then they all sit together on the couch."

Jack threw out a hand. "What is this, you don"t shush him?"

Clara waved him off as Ken Massey appeared through the midnight-blue velvet curtains to his band"s version of Shiny People. Jack didn"t know all of Delia's songs, but he had been listening to them as he drove to practice. For research purposes.

They listened to the opening monologue, and Jack realized he'd forgotten how funny Ken was. He"d gotten his start in stand-up—he"d even done a stint at the Stampede. Jack had seen him live accidentally his first summer in the city. Then he"d taken over the late night slot on CBC before Christmas.

Ken announced the guests in order of appearance, Katie Mackey, an actress in a sitcom up for multiple Emmy awards, then Delia, then Zack Prior.

Clara coughed. "Zack Prior? Holy hell. He"s . . ."

"He"s what?" Oscar shifted on the couch under her.

"Uh, I think some women find him attractive."

Jack snorted. "Some women?" Clara"s cheeks were pink.

Oscar looked unimpressed, and Clara cuddled closer. "I didn"t mean it, baby. You"re the only one hot enough to handle?—"

"Yeah, thank you." Oscar tickled her ribs as punishment.

Jack"s heart twinged, and he turned back to the TV. He loved spending time with Clara and Oscar. Loved that they were happy. But sometimes it hurt.

He thought of Delia texting him in the green room. She"d said she was alone, hadn"t she? Had there been time where she would"ve interacted with the other guests? With Zack Prior? Clara was massively understating his sex appeal based on the number of times he"d seen women go catatonic the second he showed up on screen or on a billboard at the mall for a cologne ad. He"d had to wipe Clara"s drool more than once while they were Christmas shopping, and there had been a fan club blocking the entrance to the Apple store.

That was Delia's life. She saw guys like Zack on a regular basis.

Jack tensed as they watched the interview with Katie. She seemed vapid and boring, but he didn"t say anything since Clara seemed to be enjoying her lame-ass responses. After the commercial break, Jack"s insides started to shiver. He was cold and hot and couldn"t get comfortable on the chair.

"You okay, there?" Clara smirked. Jack ignored her and turned so he could rest his feet on the coffee table.

"Our next guest, I"m so excited about this you guys, she has been absolutely dominating the charts with her new releases." Ken slapped a CD cover up on his desk, showing off the artwork to the camera. "If you haven"t heard of this woman, you"ve been living under a rock. She has some of the most poetic lyrics and her voice—well, I"ll let that speak for itself. Everyone, welcome the beautiful and talented, Delia Melise!"

The camera view flipped to Delia standing with her guitar in front of a mic stand. She wore Mary Janes. Jack didn"t know why that was the first thing he noticed, but it was. His eyes eventually lifted past the little black straps over her feet, and he took in her cropped pants. They shimmered like satin. Her Victorian style blouse tied at the neck, and there were her perfect auburn waves that framed her face. Her eyeliner was thick, giving her eyes a smoky ring that made the blue edging of her irises pop.

She started singing, and Jack recognized the song immediately. It was the one she"d recorded in the studio. He was surprised, considering that song hadn"t been released yet, but maybe that was the point? If she was doing a media spot, she wouldn"t want to play something everyone knew. Or maybe it was better to do something people knew. Jack couldn't help overthinking it to give his brain something to fixate on outside of her voice. At least on TV it was removed. He couldn't feel it reverberating through him like the live show or in the studio. That helped.

A thrill went through him as the studio audience cheered, and he thought of all the people watching the show around the country. All the clips that would be reposted on social media. He'd seen firsthand how hard she'd worked on that song. She deserved it. All of it. He wanted them to love her.

"She"s incredible." Clara sighed into Oscar"s chest. "How does she do that? Look so at ease in front of all those cameras?"

Jack grinned to himself. She probably thought she was going to throw up at any moment. At least that was how it was for him. For the first shift anyway. Then he could usually drop into the game and forget everything else, but sometimes it wasn"t that simple. If he wasn"t playing well, it was easy to look up and see the angry faces. Let them get in his head.

At least on a late night show, nobody was her enemy. Those would come later online. He thought of all the YouTube comments he"d read over the years, and they all carried more weight now that he knew there was a real person on the other end of it.

Delia finished her song to more cheers and applause, and then Ken was standing on the platform with her.

"Delia Melise, everyone! Wow, that was incredible!" He put his arm on her shoulder and presented her to the audience like she was something he created, then motioned for her to come to the desk. Delia handed her guitar to a man dressed in black and followed Ken to the couch where Katie Mackey was already seated. Katie stood and gave her a hug. Delia"s smile slipped just a little, and Jack grinned to himself. Not a real hug.

He was probably a prick. Shouldn't he want her to make friends? Especially after her conversation about loneliness? It was late and his life was a runaway train. He was grappling for control over something, but it needed to not be Delia.

Ken settled behind his desk. "Delia, congratulations on your latest single hitting number one. It must be wild to have had so many massive hits in less than a year."

"Thank you, yeah. It"s surreal, honestly. Every artist dreams of reaching people with their music, and seeing this kind of response is just . . . it"s beyond words."

Katie Mackey leaned in. "It's not surprising, though. I saw clips of your pop-up show in Calgary. You were incredible."

"That is so nice of you to say, thank you."

Ken leaned back in his chair. "Speaking of that pop-up, that was the first time you were spotted publicly with a certain special someone." He grinned as Delia blushed. "Are we allowed to talk about it?" Ken looked behind him as if checking with his producers. "That's not an off-limits topic is it?"

Delia shook her head. "No, it's fine. That was the first night we had a chance to sit down and talk."

Ken leaned in with a goofy smile on his face. "I think everyone's dying to know how this all happened. Did you message each other, or . . .?"

Delia looked down at her hands in her lap. "We had a mutual friend. That night was kind of a blind date."

"How do I get a friend like that?" Katie adjusted her skirt as the audience laughed. "No, I'm serious, my friends refuse to set me up."

Ken threw out his hands. "Well, I knew you were both supposed to be here. Everything on this couch happens for a reason. So when Katie is dating a hockey player next week?—"

"Oh, please. If that happens, I'll be back here thanking you in person." Katie and Delia laughed.

"Delia, you need to give us something, though. Jack Harrison is on fire with the Blizzard, and you two are all over the news. I've never seen anything like it. People are dying for even a morsel of this story, so maybe you can drop a crumb here?"

"A crumb?" Delia was trying not to smile and failing. It was compelling. If Jack didn't know that they weren't actually dating, he would've been convinced she had stars in her eyes.

"Just a tiny morsel." Ken sat there grinning, and Delia finally relented.

She waited for the audience to quiet down, and Jack didn't realize he'd pulled his feet off the table. "I wasn't planning on saying anything about this tonight, but since you asked . . ." Delia spun a ring on her finger, and Jack could hear the gasps in the audience. Holy hell she was good at milking the moment. "I just found out I'm going to be collaborating with an incredible songwriter who happens to live in Calgary, Ethan Hayes." The crowd erupted, and Delia waited for them to quiet down before continuing. "And that means I'm going to be relocating there for the next month or so."

A second explosion of applause. Ken stood up and put out his hands, trying to calm them down. "Does this mean you'll be in town for the end of the NHL season and the playoffs?"

Delia smiled. "That's convenient, I guess."

"You guess?"Ken clapped his hands together. "Sounds like Jack Harrison is one lucky guy. And speaking of guys that everyone wishes they could get lucky with, we'll be right back with Zack Prior!"

Clara pushed up, and Oscar grunted. "Jack, what is wrong with you? Why didn't you tell us Delia was moving to Calgary?"

"Umm, probably because I didn't know." Delia was moving to Calgary. The phrase ran on repeat as he stared at a commercial for a diabetes pump. Had she known that when she texted earlier? Was that why she wanted him to watch? Jack pulled out his phone and froze when he saw he already had a text from her.

Did you see it yet?

Blood rushed in his ears. Clara was saying something, but he couldn't focus.

I did. You're moving here?

Sorry I didn't tell you earlier. Tony made me promise to wait and announce it on the show

He would

I was a little worried. I told him we should've asked you first

"Jack? Is everything okay?" Clara leaned toward him.

He nodded. "Fine."

Why would you need to ask me?

Because I'll be there in the city. It doesn't mean we have to hang out more. We can still stick to the contract

Jack's thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He didn't know how he wanted to respond to that. Just as he was about to change the topic completely and compliment her on the show, another message popped up.

Unless there are Bond movies and pizza