Page 16 of Hot Shot
“Damn right you will,” Holt says with a shake of his head. “Before it blows up in your face.”
“That’s what I said.” Wes points his finger at me.
“It won’t blow up in my face. Besides, she’s cool. I doubt she’ll care what I do for a living.”
“It’s not that she might or might not care. It’s that your life is about to be really busy and complicated,” Wes counters.
“If they keep me on the roster,” I interject, staring down at my plate and the piece of chicken I’m currently pushing around with my fork.
“What do you mean? Of course you’ll be on the roster,” Wes says.
I glance up in time to see him and Holt exchanging looks.
“Something going on, man?” Holt asks.
“No. I just . . .” I shrug, putting my fork down and taking a deep breath. “It’s hard to believe that the Storm want me on the team.”
“Dude, they drafted you,” Holt says.
“Yeah, I know. But I chose to go to college instead of signing a contract. Now here I am at twenty-four on an entry-level contract when guys my age have been playing for years.” I rake a hand through my hair.
How do I tell these guys that part of me thinks I only have a spot on the roster because three of our players are still recovering from offseason surgeries.
That I’ll get sent down to the Mustangs once they’re back. The other part of me thinks it’s a fluke. That I’ll wake up tomorrow and someone will say, “Only kidding, Rhodes. We don’t want you.”
Sadly, that’s been the story of my life in more ways than one. First my father didn’t want me. Then my mother. Then I found out the girl I thought I was going to marry was only with me because of the fame and money that came with being in the NHL.
“Want to talk about it?” Wes asks, tilting his head, his eyebrows drawn together.
I shake my head. Wes studies me for a beat longer before nodding and going back to his meal.
We eat in silence for a while before Holt says, “I think you should ask her out. But tell her about the whole hockey thing. It’s kind of important.”
“Maybe now’s not a good time to start something new. Our schedules are about to get really busy.”
“Don’t blame us when you come to your senses in a few months and find out she’s dating someone else,” Wes says with a shake of his head.
“I saw her. She’s gorgeous. I’m assuming she’s easy to talk to since you’ve been texting nonstop. Won’t be long before some other guy has the balls to ask her out and she’s no longer single. Wait, she is single right?”
My mouth opens and closes a couple of times as I try to picture Madison dating, kissing, being with some other guy.Nope. Not happening.
“Yes, she’s single,” I growl. “I wouldn’t be contemplating asking out another guy’s girl.”
My hands shake and I mistype my passcode a couple of times. Finally, my phone is unlocked, and I stare at our text thread. “What do I say?”
“Hi. What’s her name?” Wes asks, leaning across the table.
“Madison.”
“Say ‘Hi Madison. I have tomorrow night off. Wondered if you wanted to go out for dinner or drinks.’”
“Or ask her out for coffee before practice on Tuesday. Get to know her a little bit more. Keep things casual between you two. Less pressure,” Holt suggests.
“Yeah. I like that idea,” I agree.
It makes sense to get to know her more before asking her on a date. We’ve talked but we haven’t spent much time together. What if she’s not into me like I’m into her? Although I saw the way her face lit up when she realized it was me at the bakery. We could have no chemistry. Although I swear I’ve felt something the few times we’ve touched. A coffee date does feel like less pressure.
Me:Hey. Was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee Tuesday.
