Wildcat: Chapter 9
Wildcat: A Forbidden Sports Romance (Wildcat Hockey Book 1)
Oh, itâs weird all right. My legs carry me down the hall away from him, but my heart pitter-patters in my chest. Holy crap. Leo in a bar as a regular guy, hot. Leo in his hockey uniform, ugh, I hate myself a little for admitting this, but so, sooo hot. What is it about a guy in a uniform?
I glance back as I turn into the tunnel. He hasnât moved from the outside of my dadâs office, and his eyes are pinned on me. He lifts a hand, cocky smirk on his face. Damn him.
No hockey players. No jocks. No men. No dating.
I say each phrase under my breath like a pledge as I march back to the ice. Dad is in the hot seat now. He smiles stiffly as Lindsey moves in front of him. Good call on the jacket, Mom. He looks sharp against the green backdrop.
My gaze moves past him to the hockey players hanging out, waiting their turn. More have arrived, and theyâre a swarm of green muscle. I find Leo in the back of the group talking to another player. While heâs preoccupied, I take the opportunity to appreciate how good he looks.
Heâs had a haircut since our night together, but the light brown strands still have a mind of their own. He holds his stick in front of him, both hands resting on it casually.
He tips his head back and smiles at something his buddy says, and when he does, he catches me staring. I know I should look away, but I drink him in for a few good seconds first. It feels much safer with my dad acting as a barrier between us. A reminder that this canât happen.
Why did he have to be a Wildcat?
âAll right,â Dadâs voice startles me as he appears in front of me. I glance back at Leo to find an amused smile on his face at my being caught off guard.
âMom did good,â I say.
He mumbles his agreement, even as he continues to mess with the knot of his tie.
I lift the schedule. âIs this what you were looking for?â
âAh, yes. Thank you. I knew youâd find it.â
âYour desk is disgusting. I hope Anna is coming back soon.â
âYeah. Me too.â He looks over it before calling to Lindsey.
The players begin taking the ice, and someone lines them up. I see all of this out of my peripheral, but I keep my focus on Dad as he and Lindsey chat about todayâs schedule. Itâs time to get out of here.
âDad, Iâm going to go,â I say and jab my thumb behind me.
He looks up. âAlready?â
âUmm⦠yeah?â
The watch on his wrist catches the light as he checks the time. âOh, crap. I have a meeting in five.â
I laugh. Dad isnât usually this disorganized, or maybe heâs just always had an Anna working her magic in the background.
âIs this everything you need?â he asks Lindsey.
âYeah. Weâre all set unless you can figure out how to get my two assistants back.â She rolls her neck. âWhose idea was it to do photos and social media on the same day?â
âSorry.â He finally undoes his tie completely. That didnât last long.
âWeâll figure it out. We always do. Thanks, Coach.â Lindsey moves into action, bossing people around for the team photo.
Dad pulls off the tie and undoes the top button of his shirt. âI have a meeting, but if you want to hang out and wait for me, Iâll buy lunch.â
My stomach growls. Itâs in direct opposition with my need to get the heck out of here and away from Leo Lohan.
âHow long?â
âThirty minutes. Forty-five tops.â He smiles and starts off like itâs a done deal. âStay and watch. They havenât even gotten to the really impressive stuff yet.â
On cue, it goes dark in the arena, and neon green lights come to life on the backdrop.
My mouth makes an O, but Iâm not sure any sound comes out.
Dad chuckles. âEnjoy.â
By the time I find my voice, heâs long gone. I move to a seat in the first row and watch Lindsey work. After theyâve taken a bunch with the team together, they move to individual photos.
Jack Wyld is up first, and she moves around him as he stands naturally in front of the backdrop. Then she switches cameras, and another guy steps in with a camcorder. Jack skates to the side and grabs a stick and puck and then moves around the ice.
I can tell heâs done this before. Lindsey too. Their movements are choreographed like a dance, slow and controlled, and Jack seems to know exactly when to look up, flashing a practiced smile that Iâm sure the fans love.
Iâm enthralled watching when Leo takes the seat beside me. His shoulder brushes mine and I suck in a breath.
âYouâre still here.â
âIâm having lunch with my dad.â I move my arm away from his and point to where Jack shoots the puck into the net and then skates toward the camera, coming up short and spraying ice. âThey do this with every player?â
âYeah. It takes damn near all day to get through everyone. When weâre done here, they send us through another room where they have someone from the social media team ask us questions- like ice breakers that they use as footage during games.â
Now I understand what Lindsey meant about doubling up with social media. I get why theyâd want to do it all in one day while the guys are dressed and available, but she has a long day in front of her. They all do.
âStill working at the bar?â Leo asks like weâre just old friends catching up.
âWhat are you doing over here? Shouldnât you be in makeup or something?â
He grins. âYou think I need makeup?â
I look him over as if Iâm considering it. He has nice skin. It isnât shiny and is blemish-free. He has a straight nose and a sharp jaw. His hazel eyes are bright and framed with thick, dark lashes. No, he definitely doesnât need makeup.
I mumble as much under my breath. Apparently louder than I mean to because he chuckles softly.
âIâm up next.â He bumps my shoulder. âMaybe Iâll see you around.â
âNot likely.â
He shakes his head. âIâm going to win you over, Scarlett.â
Not in this lifetime.
I take a deep breath when heâs gone. He sets my every nerve ending on edge. Blocking him out, I walk down to the ice. Lindsey rolls her neck again as she sets the camera down and takes a long drink of water. She smiles as I approach.
âThis is incredible. Did you put all of this together?â
She nods. âMore or less. I come up with a few different ideas, and someone above my pay grade decides which one they like best.â
âIâm a photographer. Or, Iâm interested in it. I donât do it professionally or anything. I dabbled a little in sports photography for my ex. He is a race car driver.â
âNo shit? If Iâd known that, I would have already strapped a camera to your hand. Do you prefer a Canon or Nikon?â
âIâm very much a newbie. I donât think Iâm ready to shoot anything like this, but I could help with lighting or setup or⦠whatever you need.â
âReally?â
âI canât seem to force myself away from the action and Iâm waiting on my dad for lunch, soâ¦â I shrug.
âOkay, yeah. If you take over for Joe, thatâll free him up to swap off with me. Iâll take any and all the help I can get.â
She introduces me to Joe, whoâs running the schedule, making sure the next player is ready to go and that everything is set.
âGot it?â he asks me as Lindsey hands him a camera.
âI think so.â
âGood enough for me.â He smiles. âSend the next guy out.â
Leoâs already close enough that he walks onto the ice without my calling him.
âWhere do you want me, boss?â
âYouâre enjoying this too much,â I tell him.
âHell yeah, I am. Did you really block my number?â
âIt isnât like you were going to use it.â I roll my eyes.
âI would have,â he says. âHonest.â
I donât believe him and the scowl I give him must tell him as much.
âI should have done it sooner, I know. We were busy with camp, thatâs true, but I had plenty of opportunities to shoot you a text.â
âExactly.â
âThe thing is, I knew as soon as I contacted you, Iâd want to see you, and I couldnât. I was waiting until I had more time where we could really hang out, get to know one another.â
My pulse races as he speaks and I swallow thickly. âThey are ready for you.â I take a step away from him, but he closes it.
âHow do you follow-up a night like that with a text, you know?â he mutters more to himself than me. âAnyway, Iâm sorry.â
He skates into position and the lights drop. Breathing is easier when heâs a good distance away and not saying all the right things. He looks good against the neon green, too. He looks good. Period.
I check the schedule to see whoâs next. âAsh Kelly?â
âHere,â someone calls.
Ash Kelly moves to the front of the pack. Heâs about the same height and build as Leo but with longer hair thatâs slicked back and touches his ears.
âYouâre next after Leo.â
âThanks.â He continues to stand next to me as Leo stares seriously at the camera.
âWould it kill him to smile?â
Ash huffs a laugh. âYeah. After the shit we gave him for last yearâs photo, he isnât taking any chances.â
Well, I canât blame him there. Heâs nearly unrecognizable in last yearâs roster photo.
âIâm Scarlett,â I say.
âOh, I know who you are.â
My face heats and a memory from my and Leoâs night together flashes in my head. âRight. The neighbor.â
âThatâs right.â His smile is pleased. âHe wouldnât shut up about you last week at camp.â
Kill me now. I donât respond. Seriously, what do I say to that? He could brag to his buddies, but not pick up the phone?
âIf I hadnât seen you with my own eyes, I would have thought he dreamt the whole thing up. Never seen him so spun up about a chick.â
âI donât date athletes.â
âWhy not?â Ash gives me a horrified look. âHockey players are awesome. Or at least we are. Especially Leo. Best guy I know.â
His face reads sincere and I donât doubt he means it. I divert my attention back to Leo. Heâs skating around, shooting pucks now. He catches my eye and butterflies swarm in my stomach. Wait, no, Iâm pretty sure thatâs just hunger pains. It has to be. Yep, thatâs my story and Iâm sticking to it. No hockey players. Definitely no Wildcats.
Iâm still helping out when Dad comes back down to grab me for lunch.
âGo,â Lindsey says. âWeâre going to break for lunch soon, too. Thanks for your help. Next time, maybe youâll pick up a camera.â
Dad takes me to the cafeteria on-site. We get our food and sit at a small table off to the side.
âHow was it?â he asks.
âIt was really cool. Lindseyâs great. How long has she been here?â
âNot sure. She was here when I got here. How can you tell sheâs good without even seeing the final images?â
âShe has a way with the players. She knew exactly how to get each one to relax. They were having fun.â
He nods and smiles. âShe does do that. I hadnât really put it into words like that, but youâre right.â
He asks me about my photography as we eat. I can ramble all day long about it, so I do most of the talking. He smiles and nods along as I tell him about all the things Iâve shot recently.
When weâre done, I walk with him back to his office. The cyclone thatâs still his desk makes me laugh. âWhen does Anna come back?â
âI donât know.â He runs a hand over his hair. âHer mom is sick.â
âCan you get a temp or someone to cover until she returns?â
âI could, but Anna knows how I like things. By the time I train someone new, sheâll be back. You know how crazy the beginning of the season is. I donât really have the bandwidth.â
âWhat if I helped?â I stop. âWait, assistants donât have to interact with the players, right?â
âNot often.â He smiles. âIâd love to have you here every day with me, but are you sure? What about your classes?â
âAbout thatâ¦â Big gulp. âWhen I was in London, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to do and what makes me happy. I donât think that is getting a college degree. At least not right now.â Before that furrowed brow of his can formulate a question or disappointed remark, I add, âSo I dropped all my classes and Iâm going to try to make a go of it with my photography. I know it isnât what you or Mom wanted for me, but it feels right.â
He makes a noise deep in his throat.
I charge on. âIâm already so far behind from taking a year off and I donât need the degree. There are lots of workshops and classes I can take, and Iâve been working on finding something with more hours than the bar so working here with you is sort of perfect.â
One of the things I love about Dad is that he can just be. He doesnât need to fill the quiet. That might have something to do with being married to my mother who talks incessantly. Opposites attract, I guess. But right now, as he nods slowly, seconds feel like an eternity. That thing I said I love about my dad being comfortable in silence becomes his worst trait. Mom would have already said something. I donât know what, but something. Iâd know whatâs going through her head immediately instead of being in my current hell.
âOkay.â
Wait, what? âOkay? Really?â
âYou donât need to convince me that photography is the right path for you.â
âI donât?â A small, nervous laugh escapes.
âNo, sweetheart. Youâre an adult and your decisions are your own. I donât know how it happened. I blinked and you grew up.â
All the air and nerves Iâve been carrying since I returned leave my body on a giant exhale.
âThank you.â
âYour mother, on the other hand,â he says as he sits behind his desk.
âAny chance we can just keep her in the dark?â
He doesnât respond, so I guess thatâs a no.
One parent down. Dad took it so well, but I am not expecting that from my mother.
âYou really want to work here around a bunch of rowdy athletes?â he asks. The look he gives me, full of pity and understanding, makes me positive I need to, if only to prove that I can. Maybe I need to prove it to myself, too. I can work here, around athletes and Leo, and be fine. Rhyse broke my heart, but he didnât break me.
âI think it would be good for me. Less time to sit around and sulk. And maybe I can pick Lindseyâs brain a little when Iâm not busy.â I want to know everything about how she got to where she is.
âOkay. If youâre sure.â Another coach steps in the doorway, and Dad greets him. âThis is my daughter, Scarlett. Sheâs going to be helping out while Anna is gone.â
He steps forward and extends a hand. âNice to meet you, Scarlett.â
âYou too.â
He looks to Dad. âAre you ready to do the film analysis?â
âYeah, let me get Scarlett settled and Iâll come down to your office in two.â
He taps the jamb of the door and nods. âGreat. Welcome, Scarlett.â
Dad glances around the office and works his jaw side to side. âIâm not sure where to have you start. Annaâs office is next door, but Iâve moved everything I need in here.â
âHow about with that?â I point to his desk.
âGood idea. Thereâs a filing system, but I donât really understand it. If youâre not sure, leave it and weâll go through it when I get back. Need anything?â
âRubber gloves?â I push up my sleeves.
He laughs and starts toward the door, stopping before he reaches it. âThis is going to be nice having you here.â