13. Keir

Keith Thornton and I stare at each other over coffee in a café near the arena. "You want me to watch out for Emma?" I ask slowly, wondering what that means exactly. I was a bit surprised to get his phone call earlier. He was cryptic in his request for me to come and meet him.

"Yes," he says. "I know you two went to the same school once upon a time. You might be a friendly face. Just let her know you're open to questions when she has some."

"Okay," I murmur, feeling my face flush slightly. "When will she be here?" I add, aiming for casual interest.

Keith looks at his watch and smiles. "A few hours."

"Hours?"

"She decided to make the move quickly. Get settled in, you know how it is."

Well, I don't, but all of a sudden, my nerves are pinging all over the place. I was expecting her in a month, not in a few hours.

Panic sets in, but I keep my expression neutral. Keith doesn't need to know how much this affects me, how much she affects me.

"I'll do my best," I say, giving him a reassuring nod. "I'll make sure she's comfortable."

Keith stands up and claps me on the shoulder. "Great! I'll tell her to look out for you then."

I take a deep breath and finish my coffee quickly, watching Keith leave. I have to make a move. Any move at all, but it has to be a smooth move.

Pulling out my phone, I bring up her IG again and stare at those blue eyes, then raise an eyebrow. Douche canoe has disappeared off her feed. Does this mean she gave him the boot? My heart kicks it up a notch. If she is moving here single and ready to mingle, I have to make sure I'm right where that mingling will occur. It's time to stop being that shy nerd and be the Warriors enforcer who can make a man cry and who probably spends more time in the penalty box than anywhere else.

Confidence—some might say arrogance—is my friend here.

Sliding into her DMs like an absolute idiot is the only way forward. It's all I've got.

Before I lose courage, I tap the screen and then freeze momentarily before I growl softly, mentally kicking myself up the rear end.

Hey Emma, Your dad asked me to drop you a line to say…

Drop you a line? What the fuck am I doing?

…hey, and to let you know, you can reach out to me if you need anything. I don't know if you remember me from school…

Fuck off. Of course, she fucking doesn't. Backspace.

I don't know if you remember me from school…

Wait. What if she does? Retype.

I don't know if you remember me from school, I was in Year 7 when you were in 10? Anyway, no worries if you don't…

Groan. Groan. Groan. This is not good. I need to wrap this up, pronto.

Welcome to the team. Keir Drummond.

Hitting send before I can back out and put myself through that misery again with a new message, I scrunch my eyes up and pocket my phone as I stand up.

Two women catch my eye, waving at me, all smiles and suddenly popping out of their tops as they pull them down even while I'm staring at them, but they hold no interest to me. Three days ago, I'd have been in there but now I'm laser focused. I've got bigger fish to fry. One called Emma and she is the white whale of all women. Averting my gaze, I stride out of the café, my mind whirling with the impending arrival of my first and biggest crush.

Back at home, Lachlan is in the kitchen making a smoothie when he stops and stares at me.

"What did Keith want?" he asks, voice tinged with concern.

There is no point in lying; he will see right through me. "He wanted me to be available if Emma needs support," I murmur.

Lachlan's eyes narrow. He is annoyed, as I knew he would be. "Why you? Why not me? The Captain."

"We went to the same school, remember? Keith knows and thinks maybe common ground would be a good start."

"Oh, yeah," Lachlan mutters. "Lucky you. Why did I have to go fucking St. Johns?"

"Because you lived closer to it than St. Michaels?" I point out a bit acerbically. He is making it sound like this was a big conspiracy against him.

"Right," Lachlan grumbles, turning back to his blender. "Still think I should be the one to help her. I've known Keith for donkey's years."

I shake my head, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Relax, man. We're all going to pitch in. It's not a bloody competition. We need to make sure this transition is smooth for everyone. The more support Emma gets, the better for all of us, yeah?"

"Obviously," he says with a smirk, pouring his bright green concoction into a glass.

I gulp down my water and try not to get distracted by thoughts of Emma's impending arrival. I need to stay focused on what comes next. Pre-pre-season training starts in a few weeks, and we have a lot to prove this season.

Just then, my phone buzzes. Without thinking, I pull it out and then gulp back the water that was in my mouth.

It's Emma.

Hey Keir, thanks for reaching out. You went to St. Michaels? I don't remember you! But thanks for the support. Speak soon. Emma.

My heart is crushed, even though I knew it was a long shot.

I stare at the screen, my eyes flickering between her words. She doesn't remember me. Well, at least she replied, right? That's something to hold on to.

"Who is it?" Lachlan asks, peering over his disgusting green smoothie with curiosity.

"Emma," I mutter, trying to keep my voice nonchalant. But I can't help the excitement fizzing beneath the surface.

Lachlan raises an eyebrow, clearly interested now. "Oh really? What did she say?"

"Just thanks for the support," I reply, sliding the phone back into my pocket.

Lachlan grunts, and I can see the wheels turning. He will be sliding into her DMs right alongside me with way more suaveness than I could ever hope to achieve.

What am I even doing? I need to get my head in the game—literally and figuratively.

"Anyway, we've got training coming up," I say, trying to pivot the conversation away from my not-so-impressive attempt at reconnecting with Emma. "We need to get our heads in the game."

Lachlan nods, serious again. "Yeah, we've got a lot of new plays to work on. And don't forget, we're facing the Castle Arrows in our first friendly."

I roll my eyes almost instinctively. "Yeah, yeah, Taran Fraser and his merry band of numpties. We'll wipe the ice with them."

Lachlan chuckles but looks thoughtful as he sips his smoothie. "Still, we need to stay focused."

"I know," I agree. "No distractions." Yet my mind keeps wandering back to Emma and how I'm going to make her notice me this time around. "I'm going for a run," I announce suddenly, turning to head to my room to change before Lachlan can make another comment. When I make my way to the front door minutes later, Lach is on the balcony, staring at his phone. Yeah, he's contacting Emma, no doubt. I sigh, as that irritates me way more than it should.

Once outside, the warm Scottish air hits me as soon as I step out, clearing my mind almost instantly. Running has always been my escape. It's just me, with no distractions and no one to impress.

But even as I pound the pavement, thoughts of Emma keep creeping in. I think of those brief glimpses of her back in school—how she'd laugh with her friends in the hallways or focus intently on her studies in the library. Now she's back in my life, but in a way I never anticipated: as my boss.

By the time I get back home, I'm drenched in sweat but feeling slightly more composed. Lachlan's still on the balcony, staring thoughtfully over the river. He looks up as I join him and flop onto a lounger.

"She didn't reply to me yet."

"Who?" I ask, even though I know exactly who he is talking about.

"Emma Thornton."

"Well, Keith said she was on her way up here. So if she's driving, she can't."

"You got a reply."

"Maybe she stopped for a break?"

"Oh, yeah, maybe," he mumbles, as if that idea had never occurred to him.

Silence falls between us for a few minutes as the sound of distant traffic hums in the background.

"What if she doesn't like it here?" Lachlan's voice breaks through my thoughts.

"She will," I reply, more confidently than I feel. "She's got us to look after her."

"Us and our brilliant personalities," Lachlan chuckles.

"Exactly," I grin. "With all our charm and wit, how could she not?"

He laughs again, but there's an edge to it. "Let's just hope she can handle it when we lose a few games."

"We won't lose," I say sharply. The thought of disappointing Emma stings more than it should, but that is all the motivation I need to make sure this season goes off with a bang—and maybe, if I'm lucky, a bang… if you know what I mean.

Lachlan merely shrugs, looking at his phone again before huffing in annoyance.

Smugly, I close my eyes, thinking of all the ways I can make Emma feel at home when she gets here.