Page 19 of Oh, Puck!
They don't know my childhood, and why I came to Beachside to disappear into something easy.
"Alright. Fine." I stop clicking the pen, and it clatters to the table. "Fuck it. Do what you want. But for what it's worth, I don't think this is going to work. We're wasting our time."
The silence stretches.
Josie doesn't break eye contact.
"I'm not asking you to be someone you're not," she says, her voice softening just a fraction. Just enough to feel like a secret between us. "You're aleader. You'retalented. And you care about this team, Declan."
Oh fuck. Don't say my name like that. Don't fucking do it.
She sees it. She sees right through the grumpy captain act to the guy who lies awake at night replaying every lost face-off, every missed check. She can see that, once upon a time, Iusedto care.
And now, she's using it against me.
The meeting wraps up with Colin barking logistics, finances, and scheduling. I barely hear it because blood is pounding in my ears. I just want to get the hell out of here.
Half an hour later, Colin stands, clapping his hands together.
"Alright. Good start everyone. Declan, Beck, Mason—I'll leave it to you to show Josie around the rest of the facility. Show her everything. The locker room, gym, media room. Get her familiar with the space and introduce her to as many people—"
"What—no." I stand up so fast my chair scrapes against the floor. "We've got practice."
Colin's eyebrows climb toward his hairline. "Excuse me?"
"I've got practice," I say, the lie smooth and automatic. "Gym session."
There's no way in hell I'm spendingmoretime with her. I need to stay as far away from Josie Whitfield as possible.
"Darcy can do it. Right, Darce?"
Darcy, the brains behind our analytics, speaks without looking up from her tablet. "Nope. I've got tape to review with Pete."
Beck's grin could power the entire arena. "Oh,I'lldo it. Happily."
I shoot him a look that could strip paint off a battleship.Beck knows.Of course he fucking knows this is the woman form the bar the other night. The grin. The eye contact. The way he's looking between me and Josie like he's watching a reality show designed specifically to torture me.
I'm going to kill him when we get home tonight. I'm going to murder him with my hockey stick.
Just as I open my mouth to argue, to sayanythingto get out of being alone with her, the conference room door swings open.
And salvation, in the form of a wide-eyed, sweatingrookie, stumbles in.
"Oh, shit. Sorry, Coach, I thought—"
Corbin Cole skids to a stop, a protein shake clutched in one hand, his sandy hair plastered to his forehead. He looks like he just sprinted a marathon race to make it here, and knowing this eager, pain-in-the-ass kid who’s constantly trying to earn a spot in the first shift, he absolutely did.
"Cole!" I shout across the room, my voice tight with relief. "Perfect timing, my man!"
Corbin's eyes dart from side to side, like he can't believe I'm actually talking to him. "S-sir?"
I cross the room, and grab him by the shoulder. The kid flinches as I physically steer him toward Josie, who's now standing by her chair, watching this disaster unfold with an unreadable expression.
"I need you to show this…woman… around the building."
Josie's eyes flash with hurt before she locks it down, and I know exactly what I just did. I heard how it sounded.
Like I'm dismissing her entire existence.
