Anticipation fueled by adrenaline thrummed through his veins like it always did. Only this time, he sensed a difference. This was a new town, a new team, a new era for him and his teammates. As much as he wanted to hate Seattle, and despite his every intention to leave when his contract was up, he couldn’t deny that Ethan Parker ran a class act from the coaches to the support staff.
He looked around the room at each man, every face lifted toward him expectantly waiting for words of wisdom or inspiration from their team captain. Cooper didn’t feel particularly inspirational or clever with words tonight.
The Seattle Sockeyes’ first preseason game—a game which meant nothing and everything—sold out within a few hours of the tickets going on sale. Cooper, who’d spent his entire NHL career playing for Gainesville didn’t know how to handle the pressure of instant popularity. In Florida, they’d faded into obscurity except for the few faithful, battling for sports fan attention with the local college football and basketball teams.
Seattle’s football team, the Steelheads, had sucked for a long time. Seattle’s beloved basketball team left town years ago amid a scandal that still pissed off Seattleites. The baseball team finished with a whimper, not a bang.
Suddenly all eyes rested on the Sockeyes, the new kids on the block.
Cooper was used to playing for himself, for his coaches, and for his teammates. He wasn’t used to playing for a city with expectations and high hopes, and it was damn weird.
The team’s best defensemen, Matt LeRue and Jason “Wildman” Wilder, watched him like they watched the puck when they were on ice. Alert and ready to do battle, the guys vibrated with pent-up energy.
Martin “Brick” Bricker, their third-year goalie with a propensity to overheat, as usual was the only guy not suited up. In fact, he was stark-ass naked as he diligently taped his stick with the same precision he guarded the net. Brick liked women, minimal clothes, parties, and he loved hockey. In fact, Cooper forgave the kid’s sins because of their mutual passion for the ice.
Next to Brick, sat Alex “Rush” Markov, a second-year guy, from Russia who loved everything American, especially the women, which made Brick and him the perfect duo off the ice. Rush loved to fight, which landed him in the penalty box more than any other player.
Cedric sat to the right of Cooper, giving a rookie shit to the point the kid was groveling at his feet. Cooper tried not to laugh. Ced already had the poor guy bringing donuts to every practice.
Coach had already given the traditional pre-game speech then he’d stepped back to allow Cooper to have his say.
As the captain, Cooper always said a few words before his team took the ice. He cleared his throat and focused his steeliest gaze on rookie Jasper Flint whose dark head was bent as he tapped a text message on his phone. Jasper had talent to spare but no discipline. The room grew quiet until the tapping was all you could hear. Jasper’s finger froze mid-tap. Slowly, he looked up to see every head turned toward him. At least he had the decency to turn redder than an ugly Christmas sweater.
“I don’t have to tell you guys that we have a packed house for a preseason game.”
“No shit. When’s the last time that ever happened in Florida?” Cedric grinned, ignoring Coop’s murderous glare.
“Ced’s right. Hell, we could barely sell out playoff games,” Matt LeRue, the defensive captain, added, not the least intimidated by Cooper’s irritation. Cooper didn’t like them dissing their old team—it was like speaking ill of the dead.
“Okay, okay.” Cooper held up his hands to silence them. “Ladies, listen up. This is the League’s debut in Seattle, and a local TV station is interrupting prime-time programming to broadcast this game. The league is setting this game up as the birth of a new rivalry with Vancouver. We’re going to give the fans something to talk about while waiting in line at Starbucks tomorrow morning.”
Every head in the room nodded enthusiastically, even Brick, who was busy yanking on his uniform and lacing his skates in a last-minute flurry. Cooper never messed with a guy’s pre-game rituals, no matter how weird. Guarding the goal was hot, hard work, and he didn’t blame Brick for keeping cool until the last minute.
Cooper motioned to the door. “Let’s get out there and kick some Canuck ass.”
Everyone stood and cheered, filing out of the locker room with the eagerness of a new season ahead of them. Cooper took up the back of the line, preferring to be the last on the ice. Well aware of his captain’s one little quirk, Brick hurried to the door, pulling on his sweater as he disappeared down the hall.
Cooper paused in the long tunnel under the bleachers, shocked at the noise. The entire place rocked from the sounds of stomping feet and one continuous cheer. Somewhere in those stands sat Izzy with his nephew. The thought gave him extra incentive, not that he needed it, but Izzy’s presence filled him with this weird, warm feeling which nestled somewhere beneath his breastbone. He wasn’t sure he liked it, and he should fight it, but for now he let it be, and enjoyed this moment—a moment he was sharing with her even if they weren’t physically together. He could feel her nearby, knew she’d be watching.
Cooper stepped into the opening of the arena. Despite his dislike of his new home, he had to smile. He couldn’t help it.
Spotlights waved across the ice in the Sockeye colors of blue and green. His teammates stood in a circle at center ice, waiting for him, while the fans in the packed stands rocked the place.
“Cooper Black, your Sockeye team captain,” the announcer literally yelled to be heard over the crowd.
“Welcome to Seattle,” Cooper whispered under his breath as he took the ice to a deafening roar.
Riley sat in the seats Cooper had provided on the glass near the bench. He wasn’t up on hockey like he was football, but he’d followed Uncle Cooper enough to pick up the basics of the game.