Axel (Carolina Reapers 1)

“Nyström?” he paused in the tunnel. I knew he was anxious to follow Fields, but he was still teasing me about my name change, so he wasn’t at max stress level.

“Pierce-Nyström,” I corrected him when I saw Axel skate by. “We need an emergency goalie on the bench for tonight, right? In case Fields can’t come back?” I leaned over the thick metal bar that looked over the tunnel as he walked to stand beneath me.

“Jesus, Nyström, don’t fall. Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. Fields says he heard a pop, which means I’m not letting him back on that ice today.”

“Pierce-Nyström,” I reminded him with an eye roll. “I have a local connection.”

“Who?”

Lukas and Noble walked into the tunnel behind him—both barely winded.

“Sawyer McCoy. U-Dub grad. Played all four years of college,” I suggested. “Emergency goalie,” I said to Lukas and Noble, filling them in quickly.

“And he personally trained with Gentry for open tryouts,” Lukas added. “He nearly made the Sharks roster.”

Noble nodded. “Good guy. He’s talented, keeps his nose clean, and works hard. If lightning strikes and Thurston goes down, McCoy will own the goal.”

Gage deliberated for a few seconds, no doubt going through his mental hockey contact list. “Make the call,” he said.

“Already done,” Faith said, leaning over the rails to smile at her husband.

“Stop leaning over the rails, you two. It’s bad enough having an injured player without freaked out husbands and injured wives. I’ll phone Silas for the one-day contract,” he said. “Bring him to the second-floor conference room when he gets here.”

I nodded, flashing Axel a wink as he skated toward us before I spun on my heels and clicked to the player’s entrance, Faith hot on my heels. She was turning out to be a hell of a second in command when it came to the Reaper’s PR team, but I still wondered if she felt any bitterness that she’d given up her newborn business to follow Lukas.

Half an hour later—and with one modification Faith had suggested that Silas had raised an eyebrow at—Sawer McCoy signed a one-game contract with the Reapers.

Eight hours after that, just before the Reapers were due to arrive at the arena for the game, Faith, Harper, and I sat with Sawyer in the empty locker room.

Faith and Harper were there because they’d been his roommate for years before they fell for their skaters. The three were tight as friends. Sawyer didn’t exactly have a ton of family support around him, and they more than made up for it. I was there because two girls and a player in the locker room was a PR nightmare. Three made it an official visit since I was here in a PR capacity, especially with Gage standing in front of us.

Sawyer sat on the locker room bench, the Reapers jersey dangling between his knees as he held it in his hands.

“You sure there isn’t anyone I can leave a ticket for at will call?” Gage asked. “You’re entitled, and they can sit in the family box. Mom, dad, siblings, girlfriend...whomever you want.”

“No, Sir. There’s no one,” he said it quietly, his eyes focused on the McCoy emblazoned on the back of the jersey. “My mom isn’t...capable, and I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.”

Gage’s brow puckered, but Faith gave him a subtle shake of her head as she put her hand supportively on Sawyer’s back.

“She’s going to be so excited to hear about it.” Faith gave him a watery smile.

“Yeah, I already called, and her nurse promised to put the game on her TV.” He forced a grin. “And you getting her an extra jersey was over the top.” His gaze shifted to Gage. “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir.”

“According to my guys and gals,” he gestured to us, “you earned it.” Gage let him savor the moment for a few precious seconds before he said, “You good?”

Sawyer blinked rapidly, nodding. “All good. Thank you, again.”

Gage nodded and flashed me a look. “You three better get out of here before the players show. The bus is due in five minutes.” A playful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “I’m well aware of previous histories with locker rooms...especially in this arena.” His gaze shifted to Harper and Faith, who blushed. “I don’t care whose rings are on your fingers, you’re distractions, especially you,” he pointed at me. “I need that fierce Swedish warrior I signed tonight, not the love-sick teddy bear who throws mooneyes at his wife.”

“And Bailey doesn’t cause the same reaction?” Faith teased Gage.

“My wife…” Red crept up his neck. “Well, that’s why she’s not allowed in the locker room, either.” He glanced around. “Definitely not this one. See you in a few,” he said to Sawyer and then walked out, whistling.

“I still can’t believe this,” Sawyer said, running his thumb over the jersey.