Julia: I should be. I don’t usually go to bed until after ten, usually closer to eleven, so if it’s before then, I’ll be up.
Beckett: If I haven’t called and you’re ready to go to bed, send me a text and I’ll try and slip away. I think most of the guys were going to hit up the steakhouse in the hotel tonight.
Julia: Will do, talk to you soon.
I quickly reply to my group text with my sisters, letting them know I’m back on the road and things are still good between Julia and me. It’s the middle of the night back home, so they’ll see my reply once they’re up tomorrow. That’s one of the hard things about living so far away, our time zones don’t always match up very well.
“Sötnos,” I greet Julia as her face fills my iPad screen. “What’s wrong?” She’s obviously been crying, and it makes me wish I was there to comfort her.
“It’s nothing.” She wipes her face with her hands.
“It’s not nothing if you’re crying,” I insist.
“It was just a sad chapter of the book I’m reading. Nothing serious.”
“You’re crying because of a book?” I ask, just to verify what she’s telling me.
“Yes! I told you it wasn’t anything important,” she says, laughing now. “I’m a crier. I cry at movies, books, hell, sometimes even commercials.”
“Okay,” I tell her, with a laugh of my own. “I have lots of experience with that. I have two sisters, remember.”
“Good, then it probably won’t shock you when I’m bitchy once a month for a few days and craving chocolate then either.”
“Nope. Bring on all the bitchiness, not that I think you have it in you to be bitchy, and just warn me when I need to arrive with chocolates in hand. Better yet, tell me now what your favorite brand is and I’ll make sure to order it to be delivered,” I tell her, trying to make her smile.
“You’re all right, you know that?” she says, smiling at me via the camera.
“So my sisters try and tell me.”
“They did a pretty good job training you.”
“If you say so. I’m sure I’ll mess something up along the way.”
“I don’t know about that. You’ve been pretty attentive so far, and we’re only a week into this relationship thing,” she says.
“You ready to return to work tomorrow?” I ask.
“Ready or not, the day has arrived.” She shrugs her shoulders. “The time off was nice, but I’m ready to get back to my normal routine.”
“I completely understand. As much as I dreaded leaving you, it was good to return to the ice today. And I’ve got a job to do.”
“Are you excited to be starting tomorrow?”
“I am, but I still wish it wasn’t because of Tyler getting hurt.”
“I know. Sucks all around.”
“Are you planning on watching the game tomorrow night?”
“Of course. I might go watch with my mom at my parents’ house.”
“Have I ever told you how sexy I find it that you love hockey?”
“Not directly.”
“Well, I do.”
“Kinda comes with growing up around it. Wouldn’t it be weird if I didn’t like it?” she asks.
“There are plenty of players’ kids who don’t care for the sport their parent plays.”
“I guess you’re right. But I learned to love the game, just never planned on dating a player,” she says, winking at me.
“Especially the goalie,” I tease.
“Especially the goalie. They can be such temperamental and superstitious players,” she jokes. “Stubborn as all get out, as well.”
“Never!” I say dramatically, causing her to burst out laughing at me.
We fall into an easy conversation, until she keeps yawning between words. “I should probably get off to bed,” she finally tells me as she yawns once again.
“That you should. I need to do the same. We’ve got an early practice tomorrow that Coach expects all of us to be at.”
“Well, don’t miss it then.” She grins.
“I don’t plan on it. Have a good day back at work tomorrow. Maybe we can talk for a few minutes, once you’re off work and before the game,” I suggest.
“Sounds good, and if not, kick ass and don’t let them score on you.”
“I’ll do my best,” I assure her. “Night, sötnos.”
“Night,” she says before the screen goes black as our call disconnects.
The exhaustion is starting to set in, so I head into the bathroom to get myself ready for bed, then slide back between the sheets. I instantly reach over in search of Julia, only to be greeted with cold sheets. It’s crazy how quickly I’ve become accustomed to having her next to me in bed. The nights away are going to suck.
Chapter Twelve
Julia
“That’s it, babe!” I yell at the TV as Beckett blocks yet another shot Vancouver pelts him with. The Eagles are currently up four to one, with only a few minutes left in the third period.
“How’re they doing?” my mom asks as she enters the living room and takes a seat next to me.
“He’s holding on to the lead and has been playing excellent. Only let in that one power play goal that he had no chance of blocking,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off the screen until the whistle blows and the feed cuts to a commercial.
“It’s nerve-wracking when you’ve got a player on the ice, isn’t it?” Mom asks.
“It is. How did you do it all those years?” I ask her.
“It isn’t always easy, I’ll be the first one to tell you that. But if he’s your person, then it’s all worth it. The time apart, the highs, the lows. Everything is worth it, I promise you that. Just remember that this career, his lifestyle, isn’t going to last forever, and change will happen. He’s young, so don’t expect him to play his entire career with just one team. It happens, but it’s also professional hockey and with that comes contracts and trades.
“So, keep an open mind and talk to him about what each of your expectations are if it ever were to come up that he’s traded. Are you ready to be all-in and follow him to wherever he goes? Are you willing to give up your career for his for the next decade? Is that the kind of future you want?” Mom says, laying out all the hard questions.
“Do you really think he’d be traded anytime soon?” I ask.
“No, I don’t, but it’s always a possibility that you have to keep in the back of your mind. Knowing what I do because your dad happens to be his coach, I know the organization is very impressed with Beckett’s level of play. I know that they are looking forward to what he can bring to the organization long-term. So, do I expect him to be traded, no. But I also know the business side of the game, and sometimes things that don’t make sense to us outsiders at the time, makes sense to those making the decisions for the team on a business level.
“It all boils down to who are the best players that they can assemble to keep them in cup contention. The better the team, the better their chances of making a cup run, the more money they make, the more desire players have to be a part of this team. It’s no secret that this team has done amazingly well over the last decade. They’ve had their downs this year, which is normal when you have as much turnover as they did this past offseason. And like many teams have to do, they’re in a rebuild time. They had so much talent retire all at once, and that’s hard to replace. Not just the talent, but the leadership that comes with those veteran players.”
“I know it’s a business, when you boil things down to the nitty gritty, but it still sucks thinking that he could get a call one day and be told to pack his bags. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened anytime soon.” I look over at my mom. “How would I make that kind of decision? I can’t just up and quit my job and expect him to support me. We’ve only been dating a week!”
“I understand that, and I’m not saying that you’d be in the position to make that kind of decision, but it’s just something to think about as things get more serious be
tween the two of you over time. You might get a month down the road and decide you’re better off as friends and not partners. But you might also end up together for the long haul, and have to deal with contract negotiations and marriage and kids, and what that looks like when one of you is a professional athlete.”
“I’m going to enjoy the easy stages of the relationship before I start thinking of all of those things,” I say with a laugh as our attention is pulled back to the game.
“I think that’s a good plan. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while it’s new and fun,” Mom says, pulling me into her side as we both get sucked into watching the end of the game.
The guys pull off the win, and I smile as the team clears the bench and head onto the ice toward the goal, to tap helmets with Beckett. The smile on his face the few seconds the cameras are on them before flipping to the commentators in studio makes me know he’s on cloud nine with the win tonight. He played his heart out and deserved the win.
With the game over, I head home. It’s late since they played in Vancouver, and I have to work in the morning. I crawl into bed after prepping my coffee for the morning, as well as my lunch, and pull out my kindle. I’m a few chapters in when my phone chimes with a text notification.
Beckett: Hey, sötnos, are you awake?
Julia: I am, just reading in bed.
Instead of bubbles popping up, my screen is filled with a picture of the two of us that I snapped on Christmas morning and set as Beckett’s contact. I flip on my bedside lamp and answer the call.
“You kicked ass tonight,” I tell him in lieu of a greeting.
“Thanks. The entire team played well today,” he says, not taking all the credit for the win. “I’m surprised you’re still awake, I expected you to already be asleep, sötnos.”
“My eyes have been heavy the last few minutes, but I was trying to finish the chapter that I’m on.”
“Then I’ll let you go, and we can talk tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.”
“It’s okay, we can talk for a few minutes. I’m wide awake now. I’ve missed you. I was yelling at the TV, trying to talk to you during the game,” I tell him.
He chuckles. “Is that so.”
“Yes! I kept telling you that you were a badass and playing great.”
“Must have been your good luck charm that had me playing so well then tonight.”
“Must’ve been.” I sigh. “What time do you guys fly out?”
“As soon as everyone is ready, we’re headed straight to the plane and will fly tonight. That way, we can have a short morning skate, then our afternoon naps before tomorrow night’s game against Edmonton.”
“Sucks you guys have to fly late tonight.”
“It is, but we’d rather get there late tonight than have to fly in the morning. Just the way the schedule played out. Nothing we aren’t used to,” he says, reassuring me.
“I know, I remember from my dad’s playing years. He always hated quick turnarounds like that.”
“All right, sötnos, everyone is ready to load up, so I need to get going. I just wanted to call and say goodnight. Sleep tight, think of me. I’ll definitely be thinking of you,” he says, as his voice drops an octave and gets all gravely and sexy.
“Oh, don’t you worry your cute little self. I’ll be dreaming of you all night long,” I assure him. “Might even think of you while I’m in the shower in the morning and bring along one of my toys,” I add, then hear the groan I’ve caused from my dirty ideas.
“Knulla, sötnos. You’re going to make me hard, thinking of you pleasuring yourself, if you’re not careful.”
“Hmmm… I like that mental image,” I coyly tell him, and can already feel my body revving up at the thought. “You’re making me wet already.”
“Julia,” he grunts.
“Yes, babe?” I ask, as innocently as possible.
“You’re going to pay for this little conversation.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I reach for my nightstand drawer. “I might just have to get myself off before I go to sleep now. You can think of those mental images while you fly, and tell me all about them tomorrow,” I reply, and hear another frustrated grunt over the phone.
“Don’t forget payback can be a bitch, sötnos,” he says on a laugh.
“Oh, I look forward to whatever it is that you can come up with. I liked your payback for the last time, remember?” I remind him.
“Oh, I remember. And on that note, I really have to go. Everyone else is loading up, but this conversation isn’t over.”
“Goodnight. Have a safe flight and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, sötnos. Sleep tight.”
Chapter Thirteen
Beckett
Four Months Later
“Way to kill it out there tonight,” Matt tells me when I enter the locker room after a shutout win.
The season didn’t start out how we’d have liked, but we finally found our footing and started winning more games than we were losing around the new year, and thankfully have made it into the playoffs again this season. We might not be the best team in the league, but at least we aren’t the worst, by far.
“Thanks. Felt really good out there,” I tell him as I wipe my face and neck down with a towel.
“Beckett, can we get a few words?” a reporter asks, stopping in front of me with a microphone in hand.
“Sure,” I tell him, as a few other reporters circle around.
“First off, congratulations on the shutout,” he says, and I nod my acceptance of his praise. “Can you walk us through when you knew that you’d pull off the shutout?”
“When the final buzzer went off. I’m not stupid enough to call it before the buzzer sounds, as it only takes one second, one minor mistake, and you have a puck in the back of the net.”
“Were there any stops you were surprised didn’t slip past you tonight?” he asks as a follow-up question.
“None that I can think of off the top of my head, but I’m sure there are a few that I got lucky on. That diving block in the second period comes to mind, actually. I just have to give credit to my teammates. The defensive lines were great tonight about having my back and trying to keep the puck out of our end. We dominated puck control, and when that happens it’s usually hard for the other team to get anything going.”
“How does it feel to secure your spot in the postseason?” another reporter asks.
“Great. It’s obviously something all of us wanted. We’ve got a title to defend, and after our rough start to the season, it was something we all focused on and put our hearts and souls into obtaining.”
“Do you think your position on this team and stepping into the starting position after Tyler went out on the IR, and then onto the long-term IR, will help in your negotiations of signing a long-term contract with the Eagles organization this summer?”
“I can’t speak for the management of the team, but I’d like to think they’d take my play into consideration when it comes time to talk contracts. I tend to leave those details to my agent, and I know they’ll negotiate whatever terms they feel I deserve. I’d love to stay here in Indy, long-term if they’ll have me.”
“Does that desire to play here have anything to do with your personal relationship with your coach’s daughter?” the first reporter asks.
“My personal life isn’t up for discussion,” I grit out. Why they think Julia needs to be dragged into this press conference is beyond me, and it pisses me off this asshole brings her up.
“I think that’s enough for now,” Matt pipes up, coming to my rescue. He obviously overheard the reporter’s unnecessary question. He knows my stance on answering unnecessary personal questions, and I think is thankful I don’t feel the need to air his daughter’s personal life in the media.
“I wish the front office would revoke that asshole’s media pass,” Matt grumbles once the reporters have all cleared the locker room.
“You and me both. He asks me the stupid
est shit possible. Did you hear his first question tonight?”
“No, what did he ask now?”
“He wanted to know when I knew I had the shutout in the bag.”
“What an idiot. I’m going to email Laura and see what we can do about his pass. If they can’t revoke it completely, maybe they can limit him to the press room.”
“That’d be a start,” I agree. “He is just a pest to everyone. Likes to try and dig up dirt where there isn’t any.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. Hey, I was going to ask, do you and Bridget have any plans for Julia’s birthday in a few weeks?”
“I don’t know, I can talk to Bridget about it tonight. Did you have something in mind?”
“Nothing specific yet. I wanted to check with you guys before I try and plan anything.”
“I’ll find out and let you know.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that,” I tell him before stripping out of the rest of my sweaty gear and heading for the showers.
“Hi, sötnos,” I whisper in Julia’s ear, wrapping my arms around her waist as she stands in the doorway of her dad’s office, talking to her mom.
“Hi!” She turns in my arms and laces her arms around my neck, sliding her fingers into my hair, massaging my scalp as she does. “You. Were. Amazing,” she tells me, punctuating each word with a peck to my lips.
“Thanks,” I reply before capturing her lips in a demanding kiss. I keep it as clean as I can, seeing as we’re in the arena and her mom is only a few feet from us.
“Congratulations on the game,” Bridget says once Julia and I break apart.
I smile at her. “Thanks.”
The Hardest Shot: Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 7 Page 11