Riggs (Arizona Vengeance 11)

The thing that sucks, at least for me, is this is not how I’ve always been. When I played for the San Diego Renegades, I enjoyed a close camaraderie with my teammates. I had closer bonds with my line and it was tough leaving to come to Arizona, but I was never going to pass up the opportunity to play on a team that has a stellar chance of winning the Cup again.

Unfortunately, bringing Janelle into my home coincided with the trade to the Arizona Vengeance, and I had no choice but to withdraw from the social norms associated with being a member of a professional hockey team.

It has been tough all around. Janelle was uprooted to live with a brother she knew but didn’t really know. She left her mother—our mother—who she loved, but Mom couldn’t protect her. And this all happened after I moved to a new city and was trying to integrate into a new team.

We were both out of our element, and frankly, it was easier to keep to ourselves until we found our footing. I feel like I’m starting to settle in with the team, but Janelle can still be cagey at times.

On top of all that, I had no clue how to raise a teenager on the cusp of adulthood. I was winging it, as our situation is unique. It would invite questions, but our business is ours alone. I didn’t want to have to answer questions. I didn’t want to have to tell my teammates to fuck off and stop being nosy. So it’s just easier to keep myself in this reclusive state to discourage people wanting to know more about me.

And yet… here we are at the Vengeance Christmas party, and I can’t wait for it to be over.

“I see Lucy over there,” Janelle says, her tone actually light and not sullen. “Do you care if I go hang with her?”

“No,” I say, a bit relieved. I don’t feel like reminding her to smile every five minutes when she’s standing next to me. “Knock yourself out.”

I get a half smile from Janelle, but it fades as quickly as I saw it. She turns away but then something strikes me.

“Hey,” I call, and she glances back. “What exactly do you tell your friends about why you’re living with me now?”

She shrugs. “I don’t have any friends.”

That can’t be true. I know she’s got some friends of the unsavory type at school, according to a teacher who reached out to me.

And Janelle knows Lucy.

But I get what she’s saying. She doesn’t know anyone well enough for them to be interested in her background.

“Out of curiosity,” I press, ignoring the no-friends comment. “What would you say if someone asked you?”

She tips her head and smirks. “What do you say?”

“No one’s asked me either,” I reply.

“There you go.” Her smirk transforms into a full smile. “Neither of us has friends.”

I can’t argue with that, and she knows it. She pivots and melts off into the crowd to hang with Lucy, who is Jim and Ella’s daughter. She’s in a crowd of other kids, but I don’t recognize any of them. Not surprising since I don’t go to functions.

Now that Janelle has left me, I look like a dumbass standing here all alone in a corner. My eyes scan the room, which is packed with people. Not only is the team invited to this annual party with all of their accompanying family members, but every single person who works for the Vengeance corporation and their families too. That’s a lot of damn people to ply with expensive food and drink as well as presents for the kids, but Dominik Carlson is worth billions. He can afford to be merrier than most.

I look around for a familiar face, hopefully one of my linemates who I can at least make some measure of small talk with at best, or at worst, I can stand in their group silently and they won’t expect much more of me than that.

My eyes happen to skim over and then stop on a man who I recognize as one of the assistant equipment personnel—I believe his name is John—and standing with him is a very pretty woman.

His sister.

I don’t know her name, although he’s told me on more than one occasion. He’s stopped me in the locker room, telling me what a big fan his sister is, and has intimated that it would be oh so cool if I took her out on a date.

He assured me she was sweet, funny, and beautiful. I don’t know about the sweet and funny parts, but he did not lie about the beautiful.

Fuck… he’s waving me over now that I’ve made eye contact. His sister is beaming.

I have no desire to talk to him or to fend off his insinuations right in front of her that we should go out. The guy is obnoxious enough to do that, and I’ll hurt her feelings by turning her down. Because while I’m sure she’s as lovely on the inside as she is on the outside, I have absolutely no fucking desire to date. I don’t have the time or energy—I devote every bit of what I do have to Janelle.