A Hockey Player's Proposal (Oh Captain, My Captain 2)
Chapter One
Selene
“What do you think of our new neighbor so far, Bonkers?” I ask my dog as we lean over the back of the couch to peek out the window. Movers are unloading furniture from a truck, currently a huge flat screen TV. What I would do to watch hockey on that thing. Okay, time to quit being nosy and do what I came home to do, which is eat lunch and let Bonkers out before heading back to work.
I start putting together a salad after turning on the little TV I have in the kitchen. It’s already on the NHL network channel, and I listen to the happenings. Bonkers, my mini Schnauzer, is at my feet, wagging his tail, but I don’t pay him any attention. A fresh hockey season is about to start, and I can’t wait. I’ve got tickets to all the upcoming games, being a fan of our Indiana Mustangs. Unfortunately, we lost to the Portland Vikings in the Stanley Cup Final last season.
This could be our year. I’ve been a fan for a while now, and I’ve watched the team grow year after year, in particular, captain Brody Ross. Not only does he have good looks, but he’s an extremely good player with lots of determination and focus on the goal. It’s been fascinating to watch him grow as a player. Bonkers grabs my attention as he sits by the door, stares at me, and begins to whine just a little.
I open the back door and let him out into the backyard. I finish up the rest of my salad, rinse my dish, turn off the TV, and then go to let him back in. He’s usually waiting at the door once he finishes up, but he’s not there. I step outside, my eyes zooming in on the open fence door and an empty yard.
“Shit,” I mumble. I must have forgotten to close it yesterday. Bonkers should know better. Plus, I’ve got to get back to work. “Bonkers!” I call out, wait, but he doesn’t come running back. He is in so much trouble because now, I’ve got to go find him. Why can’t he be obedient and come back or stay in the yard?
Why can’t I keep the fence door closed? When I walk over to the door and look around, I see my little black dog, wagging his tail furiously as a blonde haired man leans down and pats him. Of course, he went to greet our new neighbor with all that’s going on over there. I’m about three feet away when the guy looks up.
Holy. Shit.
It’s Brody Ross. I’d recognize those blue eyes, reddish-blonde scruff of a beard, and that face anywhere.
He’s my new neighbor?
“Is he yours?” he asks, standing up.
My senses come back. “Yeah, sorry about that. I seemed to have forgotten to close the gate.” I thumb back to the fence like an idiot, but I can’t grasp the concept of this man standing in front of me. It’s like it hits me for the first time all over again. “You’re Brody Ross. Oh my God! Sorry, I’m just…surprised that you’re…you know, my neighbor and that you’re, you know, Brody Ross.” God, I probably sound crazy. I do based on the slightly scared look on his face. “Sorry, I’m not crazy, promise. Just really shocked.”
He nervously chuckles. “Well, it’s nice to meet you…?”
“Selene Porter. Nice to meet you too. I’ll leave you alone now. Again, so sorry about Bonkers.” Brody looks confused, so I hurriedly add, “My dog. His name is Bonkers.”
“Ah, okay.”
I’m a fool and someone should slap me back to reality already. But all I can do is say, “Come, Bonkers,” turn, and hide my shame/embarrassment as I walk back to my house. I mentally chant repeatedly that I’m not a crazy fan. Because I’m really not unless I’m caught off guard, apparently. No time to think about it right now. I put Bonkers back in the house and return to work.
Maybe he’ll forget about that encounter. I’m going to try to forget it, that’s for sure. Forget everything except how he looked because he looked so hot. Although, I have no clue what he was wearing. Oh God. Am I a crazy fan?
No.
No, I am not. I’m a lover of hockey and a passionate fan. I have been ever since my best friend, Stacy, introduced it to me in the fourth grade. We quickly became friends, and I’ve never met anyone quite like her.
Before I get back to work, I call Mick, my boyfriend of three months.
“Hey, baby,” he answers.