A Hockey Player's Proposal (Oh Captain, My Captain #2)
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Authors: Lindsay Paige,Mary Smith
A Hockey Player's Proposal
An Oh Captain, My Captain Novel
by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith
A Hockey Player's Proposal
Copyright 2014 by Lindsay Paige and Mary Smith
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This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any actual places, products, or events mentioned are used in a purely fictitious manner.
Cover Designed by:
Bailey Ardisone
Edited by:
Kathy Krick
Table of Contents
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.
“You will
not
believe who my new neighbor is.”
“You have a new neighbor?”
I ignore the fact that I told him the house had been sold and focus on my new pal next door. “Brody Ross,” I say smugly like I’m the lucky one.
“Am I supposed to know who that is, Selene?”
Maybe he needs a clue. “Oh Captain, My Captain?”
“What the hell are you talking about? All I get from that is Captain Morgan.” He’s starting to sound like he’s irritated, but how can he not know what I’m referring to? Does he not listen to me when I talk because with the new season coming up, that’s pretty much all I talk about.
“Seriously? He’s the captain of the Indiana Mustangs hockey team
and
my neighbor.”
“Lucky you,” he deadpans. “I got to get back to work. Later.” And then he hangs up.
Well, now I’m a little bummed out. Time for work, I guess. I followed in my father’s footsteps and became a radiologist, currently working at one of his private practices. It’s an enjoyable job with good money, so I have no complaints where that is concerned. The time always passes by quickly, it seems. In between patients, I go into the break room and talk to my good friend and coworker, Allison.
“I have to tell you something, partly because I know you’ll understand,” I begin.
“What is it? Finally dump that sleaze?”
“Mick isn’t a sleaze,” I start, but she interrupts.
“I’ll take that as a no, so pretend I didn’t say that.” She hides a grin behind her coffee mug.
“I wanted to tell you that I have a new neighbor. A male neighbor.”
At this, she sits up a little and really pays attention. “Do tell.”
“Two words: Brody Ross.”
“No way! Not my team, but he is hot.” She whistles lowly. “What I wouldn’t do to have Carson Lee move in next to me.” Allison is a fan of the Alabama Blacksmiths and he is their captain.
I shake my head at her. “Now for the bad news.”
“You freaked out on him, didn’t you?” she asks, bursting into laughter.
“No! Not really. Bonkers, damn dog, got loose and went over to greet him. I was shocked, to say the least. My reaction was completely normal.”
Allison looks skeptical, but our receptionist peeks into the room to drag her away because she has a phone call. Once I quickly finish off my drink, I meet with my last appointment for today. Then it’s time to go home. Allison is packing up her things and looks over her shoulder at me.
“Are you going to bake him a pie or something to make up for the Bonkers mishap?” she jokes.
“No. I already apologized and he thinks I’m a loon, so I’m leaving it alone.”
“You’re not going to try to bang him at all?” At this, she turns around.
“What? No. I do have a boyfriend, you know.”
“You’re a better person than I am then because-”
“Yeah, I know you would,” I cut her off. “I’ll see ya tomorrow. My dog is probably going bonkers, waiting to be let out.” I may laugh too much at my little joke. Allison shakes her head as she says goodbye.
When I get home, my darn dog has gotten into the Kleenex box. What has gotten into him? This time when I let him out, I double check to make sure the gate is closed. Then I get busy cleaning up his mess. Mick is supposed to come over tonight, but I have a feeling he’s going to cancel. He could surprise me, who knows. I send him a text to find out before letting Bonkers back inside and then I go change out of my work clothes. He jumps onto my bed and watches my every move.
My mind drifts back to Allison’s sleaze comment. Mick isn’t that bad. Honestly, I’m more upset he didn’t know who I was talking about earlier than his irritation. Both bother me, but the former the most. Hockey means so much to me, and he doesn’t pay attention even a little bit.
I slip on a plain, white tee and like I often do, I talk to my dog. “You like hockey, don’t ya, boy?” Bonkers lifts his head, his ears perked up. “C’mon.” On the way to the kitchen to look for something for supper, I say, “The season starts soon.” Bonkers barks and wags his tail. Okay, maybe I am a little crazy. I’m technically having a conversation with my dog, and he’s responding.
Nothing is standing out that looks delicious enough for what I want to eat. I can’t put my finger on whatever it is though. Looks like a trip to the grocery store is in order. Bonkers is out of treats and almost out of food anyway. Maybe something will catch my eye for dinner while I’m there.
“Let’s go for a ride, Bonkers.”
He loves to ride every chance he gets, and it helps that he’ll just relax in the car, instead of barking at everyone. When I back out of my driveway, I can’t help but notice that no one is home next door, and Mick still hasn’t responded. In the words of Allison, I’ll take that as a no.
Brody
I’m ready to start ripping some heads off. None of the team is acting like this is a serious practice.
“HEY!” I yell at them. “Listen up, I’m not going to lose the Cup again. If you have a problem with that, I’m sure there is room on the AHL roster for you.” You could hear a pin drop in the practice rink, even the coaches didn’t say anything to me. “Let’s get some drills going.” Everyone gets in line and starts running drills.
“Hey, Meatball, you don’t have to yell so much. The rookies are about to cry.” Kris, my lead defenseman, skates over to me.
“If you don’t stop calling me ‘meatball’, I going to lock you in the equipment closet. I’m not a rookie anymore, and I’m your captain.”
Kris just laughs at me. “Well, you are one of the youngest captains ever. Therefore, I have the right to call you my Swedish Meatball.”
I shake my head at him. “I was the youngest captain five seasons ago. I’m twenty-seven now and about to kick your ass.”
“All kidding aside, what’s your deal? I mean, I’m still pissed about losing the Cup, but you seem to be more bitchy.”
I look out on the ice and see everyone skating. “I’m just tired. Moving into the new house wore me out.”
“Didn’t you hire movers?”
“Yeah, but it’s still stressful. I have to unpack everything, and I think I have a crazy neighbor.”
“Oh do tell.”
I go on to tell him about this girl and her dog, Bonkers. When I first saw her, I thought she was pretty. She wasn’t stick thin, having some great curves instead. Her dark hair set off her dark eyes. Then she went all crazy-fan on me. Of course, it’s my luck to move next door to a stalker. Plus, who names their dog, Bonkers?
“Well, that's interesting. So, what are you going to do?”
I scoff. “Avoid her.” Then I skate off and practice.
~ ~ ~
I pull into my driveway, and I’m so thankful because my muscles are sore. I open the trunk of my car to get my equipment bag when I hear the car next door pull in. Great, my crazy-stalker-fan is home. My first thought is I will need to look into darker curtains.
Just then, I see the dog, Bonkers, running to me. Sad to say, I like the dog. It’s nice to come home to someone who loves you unconditionally.
“Bonkers!” my neighbor yells and comes running to the dog and me. “I’m so sorry.”
I bend down and pick up Bonkers. I smile when he licks my face. “It’s okay. I don’t mind the dog.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry about being a crazy person earlier. I swear I’m usually more composed than that.” She gives me a sad smile. I notice her cheeks redden slightly.
“It’s fine, um…” I can’t believe I forgot her name already.
“Selene.”
“Forgive me. I’m not very good with names. Of course,” I look at the dog, “Bonkers is a name I can’t forget anytime soon.”
“Yeah, that’s the truth.” She giggles. “Well, it looks like you’re just getting home from evening practice. So, we’ll get out of your hair.”
I nod and hand her the dog. “How did you know we had evening practice?” Most of our late practices are not open for the public.
“Oh, I’m a fan. Fans can figure it out. Besides I figured you’re still pissed about the end of last season, and I assumed that you would be working the team harder this year.”
Yep, she’s a stalker.
“Um, have a good night, Brody.” She waves and heads back to her side of the yard.
I shake my head, gather up my bags, and head into my house. I make sure the door is locked before going into the kitchen. Boxes are everywhere, and I need to make time to unpack, but it can wait.
I open the fridge to grab a bottle of water when my phone rings. I look at the display to see my twin brother’s picture making a funny face. No matter my mood that picture makes me laugh.
“Bro, what’s up?”
“I’m wondering if my younger brother got moved into his house okay?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m younger by three minutes.”
“Doesn’t matter. So, how is the neighborhood?”
“Ugh, I have a stalker next door.” My brother busts out laughing so loud that I have to move the phone from my ear. “Stop laughing, jerk.”
“Isn’t that your luck?”
“Yep, that’s my luck.” I talk to him for a little bit longer, asking about our parents. He informs me that everyone is fine and can’t wait to come visit. I miss my family. It’s hard being so far from them sometimes. I tell him that I'll talk to him soon.
“Have fun with the stalker,” he teases. I hang up on him while he's still laughing.
I look in my fridge to see if there is anything to eat. Of course, there's nothing but beer and water. I can’t believe I don’t have any food. I figured that I could call Jessica and see if she wants to grab a bite to eat. Then again, I could just call her, have sex, and go to bed.
Nah, I’m actually hungry.
I met her a couple of months ago at a bar after a game. She’s pretty, seems nice, and not a bad fuck in bed. That’s like my trifecta for the perfect woman. Plus, I’m in no mood for a girlfriend. She does have one downfall: she’s a little crass.
I grab my phone and find her number.
“Well, hello.” Her voice is sexy over the phone. I’m sure that she thinks that I’m calling about sex. That seems to be our arrangement: food, sex, and the occasional gift.
“Hungry?” I never have to say much to her because she does most of the talking anyway.
“Food or dick?”
I shake my head. Is it too much to find a girl with a little class? I guess I shouldn’t be complaining since I do put up with it. “Food.”
“Sorry, I can’t. I have to work late.”
“What if I said ‘dick’?”
“I could have found the time,” she coos.
“Well, some other time then.” I hang up before she can say more. Looks like it’s a takeout for me.