Pretore reads from a list in front of him, alphabetical. Only three names before me and I'm the last.
"Hawke Therrien," he says, and his eyes scan the rows until he sees me. With a lift of his chin, I stand from my seat and tuck my hands in my pocket while he reads my credentials. "You all know Hawke. Played the last seven years with the Titans. Originally from Toronto. Joined the Cape Breton Oilers when he was sixteen. Drafted by the Titans, third round. Small stint in the minors and has been on their first line the last five years. Won the James Norris Trophy twice."
His eyes swing up to mine and he barks out, "Did I miss anything?"
I can't help myself. "Yeah...my favorite beer is Molson and I can solve a Rubik's Cube in like twenty-seven minutes flat. I'm a fucking phenom."
The entire room erupts in laughter and Coach snickers before nodding his head at me to sit back down. I drop into my seat, grateful to be out of the limelight, and Garrett punches me on the shoulder. "So glad you're here, dude."
"Me too," I tell him sincerely. I feel really good about this year.
"We have a new addition to our training staff," Coach Pretore says, and my gaze slides back down to him. My blood practically freezes in my veins when he adds, "Everyone welcome Vale Campbell to our team."
From the very first row, a person I didn't even notice when I entered the room stands up. She turns and it's like a punch to my gut as her eyes come straight to mine. Just like the last time I looked into them, there's nothing there. Not really a hint of recognition, anger, indifference. They just stare at me a brief moment and then move away as she makes a cursory swipe of the room before sitting back down.
"Vale is our new assistant athletic trainer. She's crossing sports, coming to us from Columbus, Ohio, where she spent the last two years as the Buckeyes' assistant AT. Her roots are in hockey, though, as her dad was the head trainer of the Cape Breton Oilers for many years--"
Pretore stops and it suddenly dawns on him. His eyes snap up to mine and he says, "In fact, Therrien, you two might know each other?"
I quickly peek at Vale, who's slumping down in her seat.
Totally fucking awkward.
"Yeah," I say, then give a little cough. "I know Vale."
"Excellent," Pretore says, not picking up on the tension I'm feeling, and then looking back down at the paper before him. "Vale has excellent credentials...she's a board-certified AT and also has her certification as a strength and conditioning specialist, so men...get ready to get your asses kicked. She graduated with a bachelor's degree in kinesiology from Penn State and got her master's in exercise and sports medicine there as well. Originally from Sydney..."
I tune Pretore out.
Fuck...talk about a blast from my past. I hadn't thought of Vale in years. Well, that's not true. I've actually had some dirty dreams about her from time to time, but I haven't really thought about her or what we had together in years. That was something put firmly out of my mind when I walked out of her house seven years ago. True to my word, I called Vale that night when I landed in Pittsburgh.
Just as I suspected, she didn't answer the phone. Didn't return my call. Didn't answer my texts.
It took me a grand total of three days, and a gut full of fury and rage, before I cut her out of my thoughts. The anger was eating me up, the pain almost too much to bear. So for me, it was just easier to wipe her from my existence or I'd wallow in misery.
I kept in touch with Oliver sporadically after I got to Pittsburgh, and he'd throw me an unsolicited bone about her every once in a while, but last I heard, she was still living in Sydney. But then Oliver and I drifted apart, sad to say probably all my fault because I'm a lousy fucking friend, and I just lost touch with everything from my past on Cape Breton.
I put my head into the game literally and figuratively and I lived, ate, and breathed professional hockey. I made new friends...my teammates. When I went home on holidays, it wasn't back to Cape Breton to see Oliver and his family, it was back to Toronto to see my own. I partied hard in my downtime and I fucked around...a lot. Keeping track of old friends and moping over lost loves just wasn't my thing. I got over Vale Campbell and I moved on.
Never in a million years thought we would ever cross paths again. And as evidenced by the hot flame of bubbling anger sitting low in my gut right now, I'm guessing that I'm still a bit pissed at her.
I can't deny it, though, she's still a goddamn knockout. And so different than the last time I saw her. Not a single piercing on her face. Her black hair still long, but in a stylishly sleek fall down to her shoulders. She's conservatively dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a black Cold Fury polo shirt.
Body is still slammin'.
Noticed that when she stood up.
And those eyes...I could see their crystal clarity from up here. Sexy as hell, but when they looked at me, not an ounce of warm recognition in them.
Christ...I can't imagine what could turn red-hot passion and love into a fucking iceberg within her. Still the greatest mystery I'll ever be faced with.
"There's a story there," Garrett mutters quietly as he leans his head toward me. Coach Pretore has finished with Vale's accolades and is now going over our practice schedule, which has already been emailed to all of us.
I jerk and glance at him. "What's that?"
"You and the new AT," he says with a knowing look.
"Nah, man," I say in quick denial. "Just a girl I used to know."
"Fucking liar," Garrett says emphatically. "When she looked at you, the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. I want the deets."
I'm saved when Pretore says, "That's it, men. Your equipment is in your lockers. You have twenty minutes to get dressed, pretty yourselves up, and get on the ice for the team photo."
I stand abruptly, but I can hear Garrett snicker before whispering to Alex. "There's definitely a story there."
Ignoring him, I move into the aisle steps that lead down to the exit door. My eyes can't help themselves. They go immediately to Vale, who scrambles up out of her chair and follows the rest of the training staff out the door. Not a backward glance my way, and fuck...that pisses me off. She's the one that bailed on our relationship and she can't give me the courtesy of just saying hello?
Fucking women.
I'm definitely tying one on tonight. Something...anything to make me banish her from my thoughts once again.
Chapter 2
Vale
"Get down from there, Vale," Hawke says to me gruffly, reaching his hand out.
"Why? Afraid I'll fall?" I ask with a drunken grin. I level my arms out for balance, take another precarious step on the rough stone wall that runs along the Sydney River. A slight wobble and I right myself, but I don't miss the sound of the frustrated grunt t
hat Hawke lets out.
"If you fall in, I don't want to have to come in after you," he says as he walks alongside me, his feet firmly on the path beside the wall.
"You're a good swimmer," I tell him confidently, although my words are slurred a little. We'd decided to share a pint of bourbon, but I ended up taking a few longer pulls on it than Hawke did. Plus he outweighed me by almost eighty pounds. I was definitely drunk, while he was probably just sporting a nice buzz.
Huh...all the better for him to come in after me should I fall.
"I don't want to get wet," he grumbles, but I can hear it in the tone of his voice.
He's worried.
"Okay, let me do just one pirouette, show off my ballet skills--"
"Christ, Vale," Hawke barks at me, and grabs my wrist. With a hard pull, I am indeed tumbling off the wall but not toward the river. Instead, I fall right down into Hawke's strong arms. "You're a nut job."
"Am not," I breathe out as my breasts mash into his chest and his breath feathers across my face.
"Are too," he murmurs as he looks down at me.
It's dark, but I can see the half-moon reflected in his eyes. Even though he has the lightest of blue irises, they are dark with liquor and frustration and even a little bit of lust. I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head to look at the blackened sky. I smile at the stars and they smile back at me just before I turn my face to his again.
I always thought I was a bit of a free bird. My father let me run wild--within certain limits--because what's a widowed father to do but dote on his only daughter and give into her every whim?
But really, until I met Hawke, I was merely existing. Going through each day, one step at a time and closing my eyes at night without truly knowing my purpose.
Now, my blood races constantly when we're together and I feel like I'm on the verge of conquering the world.
I guess that's what love is all about.
"So you wouldn't come in the river after me because you wouldn't want to get wet?" I ask playfully, my fingers sifting through the long hair at the back of his neck.
"I wouldn't want you to break your neck," he says with a smirk, and then leans down to place his lips right at the spot he mentioned. He glides a kiss over my skin and a shiver runs up my spine. "It's a lovely neck."