The loneliness.
But it only makes me feel worse.
Giving into the weakness, I pull out my phone and call Ashlyn.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Hey,” I reply. “How’s moving going?”
“Meh. Not too bad,” Ashlyn replies. “Colt and Theo are dealing with all the heavy stuff. How ‘bout you?”
I look around the empty apartment. “It’s fine.”
“You sure you don’t need help?”
“Yeah. The doorman offered to bring my things up with the superintendent later,” I lie.
“You have a doorman?”
I groan. “Don’t ask.”
“Damn, girl. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be,” I mutter. “Seriously.”
“Ya know, normally I’d tell you Colt and I are coming over even though you’re being a butt and won’t accept our help willingly, but we’re actually picking up Jaxon after Colt finishes with Blakely’s dresser, so…”
“Oh.”
Jaxon is Colt’s baby from a previous relationship, although you’d never know Ashlyn isn’t his mom. She’s taken to mama duty like a natural and loves the little guy more than almost anything, including her friends. Which I completely understand and support, even when it does knock me down a peg or two. Like today. When I could really use my best friend.
Sensing my disappointment, Ashlyn rushes out, “I thought you said the doorman and superintendent are helping?”
“They are,” I reply. “I was just curious if you guys were going to hang out together after Blakely settles in or something.”
“Not really, but I can always ask Colt if he’s okay with you coming––”
“Don’t worry about it,” I interrupt. The idea of a pity hang-out with Ash, Colt, and his one-year-old kid sounds even worse than hanging out alone in a massive apartment that feels about as homey as a museum. “I should probably unpack anyway since the first away games are right around the corner,” I add. “Thanks, though.”
“For sure. Theo and Blakely will be doing the same thing tonight, too, so you aren’t missing much.”
“And Kate?” I ask. “Do you know what she and Mack are doing?”
“I think they’re gonna stick around to help Blake unload a few more things and grab some pizza. One sec. Let me see if it’s still the plan.”
“No, don’t worry about it,” I blurt out.
She pauses. “Are you positive? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you came over.”
“It’s okay. Really.”
“Mia,” Ash starts, but I cut her off.
“Seriously, I’m fine. I’m a big girl and can handle this on my own.”
“You sure?”
“Yup. Positive,” I repeat. “Besides, I’m kind of craving a girls’ night.”
“Me too. A girls’ night sounds perfect. Maybe we can plan one after things calm down a little bit.”
“Good idea,” I reply.
“Is there a time we can come see the new place? Maybe next week or something?”
Again, my eyes fall on the gorgeous family room and huge windows nearly identical to the ones in the master bedroom overlooking LAU’s campus. “We’ll see.”
“Mia––”
“I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Love you,” she reminds me.
“Love you too.”
I hang up the call and drop the phone in my lap, leaning back on my hands.
“Welp. I guess it’s me, myself, and I tonight,” I mutter to no one in particular. “Lovely.”
9
MIA
Fun fact: locker rooms stink. They’re also loud. Like, everyone can hear each other’s conversations kind of loud. Part of me wonders if I should’ve asked Blakely for any advice she could give me since she interned with the LAU hockey team last year until she was hired as an events coordinator for my uncle’s charity. But I figured if she could deal with being surrounded by hockey players, so could I.
If only I’d taken into account the whole sexy alpha men vibe.
Hot damn.
Everyone’s in their practice gear. I don’t miss the curious glances cast my way as I hang out by the tunnel leading to the rink with my new DSLR camera hanging at my side. Before I was hired, I used the camera on my iPhone to take pictures and record videos for social media. But after my conversation with Buchanan, I decided I could splurge a little. And now that I’m here, I have a feeling buying this bad boy is the best decision I’ve ever made.
I feel…professional. Legitimate. Like I’m not an imposter.
No one has introduced me to anyone yet. No one has even greeted me. I feel like a fish out of water or a fresh piece of meat being thrown to the wolves. Other than a text message with a time and address delivered to my phone, I have no idea what to expect.
It’s the first practice for everyone in the Lions organization, and part of me wonders if the players feel the same way I do. Lost. Anxious. But excited too. And ready to work their asses off.
I kind of want to start filming right now in hopes of capturing the anticipation buzzing through the locker room, but I stop myself, unsure if I should wait for approval first.
It'd be great if I could find someone who knows what I’m supposed to be doing right now.
Rocking back on my heels, I side-eye the guy in a full Lion costume beside me. He hasn’t introduced himself to me yet. Nope. He’s been bouncing on his feet and rolling his shoulders like he’s preparing for battle, though I have no idea why. He’s a mascot, and this is only practice, so…
Clearing my throat, I announce, “Hey, I’m Mia.”
The lion’s head snaps in my direction, and he waves his big paw at me.
“I assume you’re the team mascot?”
The giant lion’s head nods.
I stare at the sewn-on eyes, unsure where else to look for another beat. “What’s your name?”
He points to a name stitched into his jersey.
“Leo,” I note. “Cool.” Apparently, he isn’t very chatty. “I assume this is your first day too?” I prod.
He makes a lip-zipping motion and moonwalks to the opposite side of the tunnel, effectively ending our conversation. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud as I watch him and turn back to the bustling locker room.
Okay, then.
When Colt sees me hanging out near the tunnel, he waves, then rummages in his locker for his gloves. At least there’s one familiar face. Two, if I count Theo, but I haven’t seen him yet. Macklin should also be here, although he’s not in the locker room. Maybe the medical guys aren’t required to be here for practice? Honestly, I have no idea.
An attractive gentleman in an orange polo with a whistle draped around his neck appears from the back office, along with two more men in white polos and matching tan pants. A thin sourpuss follows behind them with an iPad clutched to his chest. When the man in the orange polo spots me, he walks over and lifts his chin.
“Are you Mia?” he asks.