Page 49 of Rookie Attraction

“But I’m not alone. I’m here with you.”

We stare at each other, and I feel the rush of winning all over again. Only, this isn’t about hockey. It’s about us. I mean, our friendship.

“Anyway, I want to stay focused and clear-headed,” I insist, breaking the tension. “No partying for me right now. I want to win the next game and the one after that and…”

Sel offers a knowing grin.

“Welcome to the NHL.”

The next afternoon

My home looks, sounds, and smells like a busy pub, but I don’t mind at all. Makela, Kuznetsov, and Sorensen sprawl on my couch, shouting at the football game on TV. A dozen pizza boxes litter the room and icy beer bottles sweat on coasters.

When halftime arrives, we mute the sound and shovel in as much food as we can.

“Man, that unexpected breakaway last night in the third was unreal. Your pass, Kirkland’s goal,” Sorensen says, pointing at Finn. “You and Sel are so in sync already, it’s freaky.”

Makela swats Sorensen on the arm. “What about me?”

“What about you?” Kuznetsov smirks. “You’re freaky all the time.”

“I’m freaky in lots of ways,” Makela waggles his eyebrows. “And hungry. I need more pizza.”

The forward shoves another hot slice in his mouth and devours it in a couple of bites. I glance at the number of boxes and realize I’m probably going to have to order more. Maybe burgers too.

These guys closed out a bar in Tribeca last night, so they’re tired and hungover. Everyone except me. Honestly, I didn’t get much rest either. After Sel and I parted ways in the elevator, I stepped into my condo and called my family. My ears are still ringing from all their excitement for me, and there were a lot more tears, but later, as I lay in bed, I couldn’t sleep. It had nothing to do with the game and everything to do with my conflicted feelings about my defensive partner.

“Seriously, Finn, you and Sel were fierce,” Sorensen adds. “It was amazing to witness.”

“Stop, you’re gonna give me a big ego like Mats here,” I quip and get a middle finger from Makela. “The whole game was epic. Winning was such a rush. I don’t think anything can top it.”

“I can think of a few things,” Makela shoots back then pauses for a second. “Nah, you’re right.”

“Here’s to Finn and Sel.” Kuznetsov holds up his beer bottle. “May the d-man bromance continue.”

I ignore the heat creeping up my cheeks and raise my glass in turn.

Sel

Sitting in the back of a sleek limousine, I reach for my tie and adjust it for the tenth time. I’d rather rip the damn thing off, but I’ll have to be patient and wait until later. After making small talk with the person sitting next to me, I peruse my phone to distract myself. I’m trying to keep my nerves in check, but they finally let loose when the driver pulls up to a famous historical building and stops.

Here we go.

It’s “date” night, and I have a story I need to sell.

Taylor Grimaldi turns to me and smiles, camera-ready and confident. With his curly black hair styled to perfection, wearing a bold red suit and sporting diamond earrings, he’s stunning. I appreciate his style, and his ability to put me at ease with conversation, but I’m not into him. And I can tell he feels the same. He’s polite and friendly enough, but tonight is business, for both of us.

“You have our story ready?” he asks me.

“I’ve got the basics memorized, but I’m pretty good at improvising too.”

Taylor nods.

“Then tonight should be a win-win for both of us. Or so our PR reps tell us.”

I step out first, hit with the blinding flash of cameras, and hold out my hand for his. We stand and pose for the photographers and then head up the red carpet where another group of journalists are waiting. I tell all the right lies—how we met, how wonderful he is—and gaze at him adoringly, but I’m moving on autopilot. Following a script. Last year, I’d have welcomed the attention, but now? No thanks. My mind is far away from here. I don’t see Taylor’s smile. Instead, I think about Finn’s, and those dimples, and the way his laughter fills the locker room, hell, any room. And that reporter talking about our “bromance”… the very thought of the word makes something powerful twist in my chest.

It hits me with the flash of the next camera.