Rookie Move (Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 9)

by Samantha Lind

  “I knew you would; it’s why I picked this one out.” He winks at me.

  “You should probably get out of here before you’re late,” I tell him, stepping out of his embrace.

  “I’ll see you after the game. You’re all set to get in, right? I’ll just come up to the suite once I’m done with post-game stuff unless you want to come back home earlier, and I can just meet you here?” he asks.

  “I’m all set to get into the suite, plus, I’ll have Jill and Johnathan if I need anything. And I can wait around until you are done, I don’t mind.”

  “Sounds good; if you change your mind and you want to come back with JC and Jill, just text me,” he says, leaning down to give me a goodbye kiss.

  “Will do and play hard. Score me a goal.” I wink at him before he grabs his bag and heads out the door.

  I hear him flip the lock, always making sure I’m safe if he isn’t around. I have just under two hours until I need to be ready to leave, so I head for the bedroom. I remember Dylan mentioned something about leaving me a present on the bed, and I want to know what it is.

  I enter the bedroom and see a wrapped box leaning against my pillow. I bounce over to the bed, tearing the paper off quickly and opening the T-shirt-style box. Inside is an envelope sitting on top of a folded Eagles jersey. I know without even pulling it out that it has Dylan’s name and number on it. He’s always made sure I had one of his jerseys for whatever team he’s been on so that I can represent him proudly.

  I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope, tearing the part that has been glued down open, and pull the notecard out.

  Hales,

  I know you love wearing my name on your back just as much as I love seeing it there. I know I won’t see you in this until after the game, but I already have visions of you in it. I still can’t believe we’re here. Thank you for always believing in me, for encouraging me to follow this crazy dream of mine. I hope that I make you one-tenth as proud as you make me. I know life is crazy right now, and the distance between us isn’t always easy, but please know I’ll always love you and always be doing my damn best to make a great life for us. I love you so damn much it hurts sometimes.

  All my love,

  Dylan

  1-4-3

  I re-read his words, running my finger over the ink like I could feel his touch in them. I have to wipe a tear from my cheek. His words hit me right in the feels. I know how cliché it sounds; we might be young and still have a lot of life ahead of us, but there is truly no one else on this earth I want to do life with. He’s my lobster, my person, my soulmate.

  I put the note down and pull the jersey from the box. I hold it up, turning it around so I can see his name stitched across the back. Another tear falls as I take it all in. To know that his dreams are paying off. All his hard work coming to fruition is a bit overwhelming at times.

  I set the jersey down on the bed and head for the shower. I hadn’t really thought ahead to what I’d wear to tonight’s game; it hadn’t really crossed my mind yet that I didn’t have a jersey from the Eagles with his info on it, but now I do, and I can’t wait to wear it while I cheer him on.

  “Thank you so much for letting me tag along with you tonight,” I tell JC and Jill. He insisted I start calling him by his nickname rather than John or Johnathan. Hockey players and their damn nicknames. I refuse to call Dylan by his nickname of Soupy.

  “Of course, we were coming here anyway, so no reason for you to pay for an Uber,” Jill says, turning in her seat to face me a bit better.

  “How many other people are usually in the suite?” I ask, a few nerves settling in the closer we get.

  “Depending on the night, sometimes upwards of thirty or more. My best friend, Julia—she’s engaged to Beckett, one of the goalies—she likes to sit down in the lower bowl, so she’s closer to the ice, but she’ll sometimes pop up to the suite. Last season, when I’d come to games with her, I’d sit down there, obviously. Now I just go wherever this one goes,” she says, hooking her thumb in JC’s direction.

  “Sounds like I’ve got a lot to learn,” I muse. “I only got to catch a couple of Dylan’s games last season, and they were when he was on the road in California, so I just bought random seats as close to the visitor bench as I could. I can’t say I’ve ever watched a game from a suite before.”

  “It’s a great place to watch them from. Everyone is always so nice, like one big family. People are passing babies around, everyone cheering on one another. I guarantee by the end of the night, you’ll have at least half a dozen of the other wives and girlfriends’ phone numbers, and they’ll be sweeping you under their wings. I’m kind of surprised none of them have shown up at your door yet to welcome you into the fold.”

  The look of shock on my face must be apparent as Jill starts to laugh. “Don’t let me scare you. I was never a WAG, but I know what it’s been like for Julia. She not only experienced it when she started dating Beckett, but she grew up in the environment, seeing as how her dad used to play for the team before he retired. He’s now one of the coaches,” she fills me in.

  “That’s kinda crazy.”

  “It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Matt, her dad and Beckett’s coach, is a pretty cool guy. Laidback and all that. He wasn’t pissed at all when he found out they were together. He kinda-sorta set them up without really knowing it. Julia is a physical therapist, and Beckett had an injury. Over the summer and the team’s PT was on vacation, he asked Julia to come down and look at him. She did, and sparks flew. He resisted her for a few months, but she finally wore him down, and well, the rest is history. They got engaged this past summer and will be getting married next year.”

  “That’s a sweet story,” I comment. “How long have the two of you been together?” I ask, realizing it couldn’t have been long since she said she was never a WAG herself.

  “Just a couple of months,” she answers before looking over at JC with a loving smile. “You’ve been with Dylan for a long time, yeah?” she asks.

  “Yep. Since freshman year of high school, but we’ve known each other even longer.”

  “What an accomplishment. Your love must run deep and be strong to have survived this long and through all the distance. When do you go back to school?” she asks as JC pulls into the private parking area. He flashes a badge at the attendant, who presses a button, allowing the gate arm to lift so that we can pull into the ramp.

  “It isn’t easy, but we make the most of the time we do get together. My parents weren’t all that happy. I insisted on coming here for my break rather than going home, but I couldn’t stand the idea of being away from him any longer than necessary. They support our relationship, so that helps, but they wanted to see me, as well. So, we compromised. I’m going home for a few days just after the Christmas break when the team heads out on the road for a few nights. School doesn’t start again until late January, so I’ll head back a couple days before.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Jill comments as JC parks his truck. We all hop out and make our way to the door. Dylan showed me to come to after I got my pass.

  As we approach the door, I’m super nervous, worried security won’t let me in this door even though I have the special pass.

  “Evening, George,” JC greets the older man that is stationed at the door.

  “Evening, good to see you both again,” he says to Jill and JC. “And you must be Hailey,” he greets me, patting me on the shoulder as only a grandpa can. I’m a little shocked he knows my name, and I stumble over my words.

  “Hi-hello, yes, I’m Hailey,” I say, offering him my hand and the badge I was given.

  “I was expecting you,” he says kindly. “Go right on in, dear. Do you know where you’re going?”

  “Yes, Dylan showed me yesterday.”

  “We’ve got her, George,” Jill adds in.

  “Figured you would.” He smirks at her. “Enjoy the game, see you next time,” he says to me as we walk away.

  “Well,
wasn’t he the sweetest man alive,” I say to Jill as we walk down a mostly empty hallway.

  “George is the best. He’s worked that door for as long as I can remember, I think maybe since the team’s inaugural season.”

  “That’s so cool. I take it he’s a favorite amongst the team and family members, then?”

  “Yep,” JC answers as we come to a stop outside of the family suite. The place by the door is labeled as “Eagles Organization Family Suite.” JC flashes a card that looks like mine, and the door opens. I don’t really know what I’m expecting, maybe someone scanning passes or something at the door, but there isn’t anyone. We all walk in, the door latching behind me. I look around, taking in all the little groups of women standing around visiting, kids playing or running around with one another, a few older kids huddled in the corner, iPads or other electronic devices in hand. In the corner to my right is a full bar and a banquet table along the wall with a big spread of food filling all of it.

  “You must be Hailey!” a very chipper voice says from in front of me. I blink a few times, bringing my focus to the person attached to the voice.

  “Yes,” I say, clearing my voice. “I’m Hailey,” I confirm.

  “Hi, I’m Becca. My husband is Scott, the head coach. We’re so happy to have you here. Dylan was sure excited that you were coming,” she tells me, all while a toddler hangs off her hip. I realize that Jill and JC have disappeared deeper into the room. I didn’t expect them to stay by my side tonight; they were just being nice and giving me a ride to the game, after all.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking in everything and everyone.

  “I know it can be a little overwhelming in here; there are a lot of us, especially when you add in all the kids, so let me know when you’re ready, and I can introduce you around. In the meantime, make yourself at home. If you’re hungry, grab a plate. The food is all amazing and nothing like what you’d find downstairs at the concession stands. Everything in here is provided for us by the team, so don’t be shy,” she says, obviously picking up on my hesitation.

  “Thanks,” I tell her before ducking away and heading for the table. I am a little hungry, so maybe some food will do me good. I pick out a few things, not wanting to overdo it, at first, then stopping at the bar to get a Coke. I take my plate and soda and find myself a seat near the glass wall overlooking the ice.

  I’m so engrossed in watching the guys warm up down on the ice, I don’t really notice the woman who sits down next to me until she starts talking to me. “Hi, Becca said you were over here all by yourself, and she was a little worried about you. Thought you might be overwhelmed by the large crowd.”

  I turn to her, doing a double-take when I see who is sitting next to me. It is the one and only Reese Blackwood. I knew she was married to one of Dylan’s teammates, but that never crossed over into the fact that she was, in fact, a team WAG and would be here tonight, best yet talking to me. “Holy crap, you’re Reese,” I whisper.

  “That’s me.” She laughs. “Nice to meet you, Hailey, correct?” she confirms, offering a hand for me to shake.

  “Yes,” I confirm on a croak.

  “Honey, just breathe,” she instructs, and I realize that I’m almost hyperventilating. I suck in a deep breath as I close my eyes. I will my body to relax. I’m here to watch Dylan play hockey, not freak out because I’m sitting next to and talking to the one and only Reese freaking Blackwood. “How are you feeling now?” she calmly asks a minute or so later.

  “Better, sorry about that.”

  “Don’t sweat it; I’m used to it,” she tells me. We fall into silence. I don’t really know what to say to her, and I don’t want to do or say anything else that will embarrass Dylan or me.

  “Have you been a hockey fan long?” I finally ask. The guys have cleared the ice and gone into the locker room while the ice crew Zamboni’s the ice for the game's start.

  “Only since I met my husband.” She smiles sweetly. A little girl toddles over to her, and she picks her up, snuggling her close and blowing a raspberry against her cheek. “This is my daughter, Nicole,” she says, setting Nicole down on her lap. She’s got the cutest little shirt on that has the Eagles logo on it with her daddy’s name and number on the back. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail with a cute little bow in it, also in the team’s colors.

  “She’s so cute!” I tell Reese, holding my hand out for Nicole to clap against.

  “What about you? Have you been a fan of hockey long?”

  “Just about my entire life. Dylan was already playing when we started dating, so I started going to all of his games freshman year. Before that, I’d go to my brother and sister’s games. Neither of them plays anymore, but I’ve basically grown up going to different rinks. They just tend to get bigger and nicer, warmer, too,” I joke.

  “I’ve gone with Austin to some small rinks for random camps he’s helped with, and oh my God, they are freezing! I don’t know how his parents dealt with it all those years.”

  “Eh, you get used to it,” I tell her. “My mom kept a bag in the car with seat cushions, hand warmers, gloves, hats, and blankets. We’d take that bag into every rink we went into, and it never failed; we’d use almost everything.”

  “Smart woman. I’ll have to remember that when my time comes being the hockey mom. I’m sure Austin will have this one in skates in the next few years,” she says, looking down at her daughter. Nicole slides off Reese’s lap and toddles over to a few toys.

  Our attention is pulled to the ice as the announcer starts to introduce the team. I pull out my cell, opening up the camera app so I can record the experience. Like a few of the other games, Dylan’s line gets the starting assignment. I keep my eyes on him during the national anthem, followed by him lining up around the face-off circle for the puck drop.

  This isn’t my first NHL game; we’ve gone to a handful together, but watching Dylan play his heart out on the ice tonight has tears threatening to fall. I’m so damn proud of him. For all his hard work, it’s paying off, and there’s no one more deserving than he is.

  “He’s outstanding,” Reese comments when the first period ends, and the guys have all cleared the ice. The Eagles are up two nothing over the Panthers, a nice place to be, but they definitely have a lot of hockey left to play tonight. Games can turn with just one call or bad bounce of the puck.

  “Yeah,” I agree with her. I’m not really sure what else to say. All of these guys are really good; otherwise, they wouldn’t be playing at this level.

  “Have you met everyone else?” Reese asks, looking over at some of the other women that are all standing around mingling.

  “Just Becca and I rode here tonight with Jill and Johnathan—er, JC,” I correct myself.

  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to some others. Don’t worry, none of them bite. Quite the opposite, actually. They’re all amazing women and some of my closest friends,” she says, standing and picking Nicole up. She heads over to the group of women. I follow behind, willing myself to not come across as bitchy and just shy.

  “Ladies, this here is Hailey. She’s Dylan’s girlfriend,” she introduces me, and I give the group of women a little wave.

  “Welcome,” a few of them tell me all at once. “We’re so glad to have you join us!” One who I didn’t catch a name of adds.

  “Thanks. I’ll only be here for a few of his games before I have to return to school, but I plan to come to any that I can,” I tell them.

  “You are welcome anytime you can make it; where do you go to school?” one of the women asks. I think she’s Julia. I remember the name from when Jill mentioned it in the car, plus, she’s one of the youngest looking women, and I know her fiancé is a younger guy on the team. Not as young as Dylan and I are, but at least a little closer in age.

  “I’m at UC San Diego,” I tell her.

  “Wow! That’s a great school. What is your major?” she asks.

  “Sports medicine. I really want to go on to med school after my bachelor's.�
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  “That’s awesome. I’m a PT and work with some really amazing sports medicine docs. If you ever need a reference to one for an internship, let me know, and I’d be happy to help any way I can.”

  “Wow, that’s so kind of you! Thanks. I’m still a ways off from internships, yet, but I’ll definitely keep that in mind, especially if Dylan stays here in Indianapolis and I can get into med school here.”

  “Of course, that’s what we do around here, help each other out any way we can. We’re one big family,” she tells me.

  “I’m starting to get that, and I think it is so amazing. I’ve heard some horror stories of wives and girlfriends not getting along and how catty some can be. That isn’t my scene; I don’t have time or the headspace for the drama.”

  “Girl, with an attitude like that, you will fit in just fine with this group. We believe in supporting one another, not tearing each other down. When one of us hurts, we all hurt. Stick with me, and you won’t miss a thing,” she says, linking her arm with mine. I don’t know what it is about Julia, but I feel an instant kinship with her. She’s got one of those outgoing, bubbly personalities that just sucks you in.

  We get pulled into a conversation with a few of the other women, and I can feel myself relax all the way. By the time the second period starts, we’re all laughing like old friends.

  “He was robbed of that goal!” Julia cries out as the puck bounces off the goal post. Even from this distance, I can see the way Dylan’s shoulders sink when the shot doesn’t go into the net.

  “He sure was,” I agree with her. “There’s always next time,” I comment as we watch the guys chase the puck down as the Panthers rush it towards Beckett, who’s in goal tonight. Just as they get the puck across the blue line and into the zone, Austin breaks up a pass and takes it into the neutral zone. Dylan puts some gas into his legs, speeding down the ice, crossing over the blue line just after the puck does, keeping the play on-side, thankfully. He’s all alone as he rushes the net. He gets their goalie to come out of the net, deking him left, right before he passes the puck between his own skates, and shoots from between his legs with the puck behind him. The puck sails over the goalie’s shoulder on his blocker side and into the back of the net. I jump from my seat, cheering loudly, along with the rest of the room and full stadium. I have tears streaming down my face as I watch the replay on the jumbotron in the center of the arena. I can’t believe that Dylan just pulled that off. The guys are still surrounding him on the ice as the replay finishes. They finally break apart, heading for the bench for fist bumps from the rest of his teammates. The arena’s cameras stay on him, flashing his massive smile up on the screen. I also don’t miss his quick flash of the I love you sign he slips in before the camera pans back out to show the entire bench full of players. I’ve never been prouder of him than I am in this moment, and I’m so damn thankful I was here to see him score that goal in person.