Chapter 3....

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Wyatt

45 minutes earlier....

Storming into the locker room, I threw my helmet into my locker stall. With gritted teeth I ripped at my gear, beyond angry. My other teammates entered the locker room but I paid them no attention. I could practically feel the shift in the room as they all headed for their own locker stalls, disappointment coming off of them in waves. Hell, me too.

We lost. Again. The third straight loss in the last month. All against teams we have annihilated before, which just made it even worse.

I could feel eyes on me as I quickly took off my gear and shoved it into my bag. I was pissed. Beyond pissed. It was because of me we didn't win. Just like the last two games. I knew the others thought the same thing which just made it harder to look at them right now. Every single one of them looking at me for answers. And fuck it, I had none to give them.

Pieces of my sweaty hair hung in my eyes as I packed my things. I needed out. I needed to get out of this damn locker room and away from everyone. Away from the stares and the disappointment.

"B." I ignored my name, shoving my skates in the bag.

I was in the middle of stripping off my sweaty undershirt and grabbing a t-shirt to put on when I felt a presence behind me.

"Fuck off Trevor." I grunted not in the mood. I slid on a pair of joggers before grabbing my shoes.

"It wasn't your fault B." Trevor started to say but I already shaking my head.

"Stop."

"Come on dude, don't be like that." I knew I was being a dick right now but I couldn't help it. It was best I get out of here before I said something else. Especially to the one friend that has been with me through thick and thin.

Once I had my shoes on I stood up and grabbed my bag, putting my baseball cap on my head. I looked over at Trevor.

"I'll see you later." With that, I stalked towards the door. Without a word to anyone else I slipped out of the locker room and headed for the back door, away from the reporters that would be camping out at the other door. After tonight they would be like vultures wanting answers on why the Toronto Knights, the most unbeatable team for the last few years, has lost yet another game.

Why their star player Wyatt Boone couldn't make a single shot all game.

Cursing under my breath I ducked my head lower and shouldered open the door. With a quick glance around I saw the coast was clear. With long strides I made it to my car and threw my gear in the back. All I wanted to do right now was go home and drown my disappointment in alcohol. The idea of getting blackout drunk sounded very good right now.

The last thing I wanted was to go out in public. Not when every single person would recognize me and saw the game tonight. I usually didn't mind going out after a game, celebrating with my boys or even slightly wallowing in a loss, but right now was not the time.

I sent a small wave to the security guard by the gate before I sped through. I only made it a few blocks before getting stuck in game-day traffic. Normally I would be in the locker room or doing interviews while the fans left. By time I leave the arena the place is usually empty and no traffic.

Hitting the steering wheel, I leaned my head back knowing I would be stuck in this traffic for ages. My night of going home and getting piss drunk got further and further away.

By time I pulled into my apartment building a good 30 minutes had passed. I was beyond annoyed and just wanted to get to my apartment and shut everything out. Grabbing my gear I trudged through the doors leading inside.

Up ahead the elevator doors were slowly closing making me pick up my speed. At the last second I put my hand in-between, forcing them to open back up. I briefly noticed someone else was in here but I kept my head down, my cap covering most of my face. I knew if I looked up the person would recognize me and that was the last thing I wanted right now. I didn't fully trust what would come out of my mouth if someone asked me about the game tonight.

Clicking my floor I settled back in the corner, waiting impatiently for the elevator to go up. As it started to move I dared a peek towards the person in here with me. My eyes traveled up a pair of long legs clad in the tightest pair of jeans I've ever seen. Further up until I saw the face that belonged to those legs.

Light brown hair fell down around her face as she stared down at the phone in her hands. From here, I could make out the slight frown on her lips. For some reason I wanted to know why. I could practically see the tension in her shoulders as she hunched forward. I found my lips opening to say something when suddenly the elevator lurched.

Gripping the railing I held my ground as we came to a screeching halt. What the-

"What the fuck?" It took a second for me to realize the words didn't come from my mouth. No they came from the stranger next to me.

A pair of gorgeous brown eyes met mine and they widened as she realized what she just said. A slight blush appeared on her cheeks. I felt the corner of my lip twitch. She literally took the words right out of my mouth.

She looked away but I couldn't help but stare at the side of her face. Even with the red cheeks she was cute. No not cute...more like beautiful. As soon as the words popped into my head I shook it. Now was not the time Wyatt.

"Are we stuck?" She asked, her voice like honey. I ignored the way it washed over me as I went to press a floor button. When that didn't work I hit the emergency button. My stomach dropped as it sunk in that we may be stuck in this elevator.

Beside me I could tell the girl was starting to panic a little. I tried to ease her fear, telling her that someone was most likely on their way already but I couldn't deny that I wasn't hundred percent certain that someone was on their way.

Of course my luck was getting shittier and shittier. First, the game and now being stuck in an elevator for god knows  how long. Although with a quick glance at the girl next to me I could be grateful I wasn't stuck in here alone.

Following her lead of sitting down I took a seat next to my hockey bag. Of course this night could get worse. Sighing I rubbed a hand down my face. I was exhausted and annoyed and all I wanted was to go home.

"Hard day?" The honey-like voice spoke again.

"You could say that." I grunted. More like hard year. I silently added.

"I'm Josie, by the way." She introduced herself. I looked over and found her smiling softly over at me. Josie....I like that. For some odd reason the name suited her.

"Wyatt." I said back, her smiling making my own lips tilt up. I purposely left off my last name. I knew as soon as I said it, she'd recognize me. She may be pretty, but I've been around plenty of women that as soon as they heard my name, their demeanor changes. Instantly they start batting their eyes at me and pushing their breasts towards me.

Girls in Toronto loved Hockey players. Puck Bunnies everyone called them. There are literally groups of girls that hang outside the arena just to see if they can hook up with one of us on the team. Or if we are at a bar and recognize us they come over. I can't say I hated the attention. Hell back in the day after a game I would take one of those girls home. But not anymore.

"Nice to meet you." Seeing that soft easy smile on her face I found I didn't want her to know my full name. Just once, I wanted to be Wyatt before it all changed. 

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