Crossing the Line (The Baltimore Banners Book 1) (3 page)

     And if this didn't work...well, at least she hadn't just rolled over and played dead while Gerry Brown danced over her corpse on his way to the new position.

     Alec's focus was split, which was the last thing he needed. Pucks flew across the ice around him, hurtling toward him at unbelievable speeds, trying to get past him and gain entry into the net. He had been lucky so far, keeping his attention on the ice on front of him—which is where it needed to be.

     But every once in a while his focus drifted, shifting off to the stands on his right. A metallic clank rang to his left and Alec grunted in frustration as he saw a puck shoot by his left foot. He lowered his stick to the ice and propped his elbow against the back of the net, muttering to himself. The goalie coach hollered something behind him, but Alec couldn't make it out. Not that he wanted to. The only positive thing so far was the fact that this wasn't a game.

     Ian skated over to him, shaking his head with a look of amusement. "That one a rookie would have had, Kolchak." Ian tapped him with the blade of his stick then skated off. The barb was good-natured, but true.

     Which frustrated Alec even more. There was no logical explanation for his distraction, no good reason why he was allowing such a minor nuisance to distract him this much. He shook his head and took another long drink of water then lowered himself into a crouch, waiting for the next onslaught of pucks. Focus, keep your eyes open, watch...

     Alec mentally replayed the words over and over until they were nothing more than a distant hum in the back of his mind. Puck after puck was hurtled in his direction, and he deflected most of them, missing only the hardest and fastest shots.

     A movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and he glanced over. Just like that his concentration shattered. A second later he felt a dull thud as a puck connected solidly with the inside of his left foot. Alec grimaced and tightened his hold on his stick as he leaned forward, cursing.

     The whistle blew but Alec barely heard it, still cursing to himself. Not because of his foot—the ache was minor and already fading. No, what had him cursing was the distraction in the stands.

     Alec looked up again and frowned. It was bad enough that AJ was here, silently annoying him with her presence when he needed to focus on his game. But did she really need to be talking to Nathan Conners as well?

    
That
was what had distracted him: looking up and seeing her talking to the team's offensive coach, saying something that actually had him laugh. Of all the people AJ should have the sense to leave alone, Nathan Conners was surely at the top of the list—especially after that article she wrote before he was forced into retirement with a knee injury. Alec couldn't even begin to understand why Nathan would talk with her.

     The whistle blew again, signaling the end of practice. Alec shook his head, pushing all thoughts of AJ from his mind, and slowly skated toward the door. A long, hot shower then he would be heading home. He wanted nothing more than that—and to be left alone.

     "Hey Alec."

     The voice was friendly enough, maybe even a little hesitant, as if the speaker sensed his mood. Not great to begin with, it suddenly dropped a few notches. Alec sighed, loudly and with so much impatience that it had to be obvious to even the most casual observer, then turned around.

     Not surprisingly, AJ was standing a few feet away from him, looking up at him with a combination of caution and stubbornness. He almost turned and walked away, but something stopped him. Maybe he was just too tired to be that rude.

     "AJ, why do you keep bothering me?"

     "Because I'm really into rejection."

     He almost smiled at her sassy reply, at the way her chin tilted up a notch as she said it. Almost. He was too tired to be that amused, and afraid that any positive reaction would only encourage her more. Instead he rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Forget it AJ. The answer is no. You might as well just accept it and move on. It's not going to happen."

     "What about a deal?"

     "No deals."

     "A bet, then?"

     Alec chuckled to himself. AJ sounded almost desperate. He shook his head. "No bets."

     "Alright then, how about a dare?"

     That one almost got him. Or maybe it was the sly look in AJ's eyes. A dare? Did she really think he would agree to a childish dare? He was half-tempted to say yes, just to see what reaction he'd get. In fact, he actually opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by an even more annoying presence that appeared from nowhere.

     "Kolchak, Gerry Brown, we met the other night. Great practice out there."

     Alec turned to face the intruder as one thought came to mind.

     "What a moron."

     Alec froze, wondering if he had said it out loud, then realized the phrase had been muttered by AJ. Gerry Brown either didn't hear her, or chose to ignore her, because he continued to stare up at Alec with a gleam in his eyes.

     "No. No interviews. I thought this was a closed practice anyway." Alec looked around, his humor taking a turn for the worse, and felt a brief sense of relief when he saw Nathan walking toward them. "Nathan, wasn't this a closed practice?"

     Nathan shrugged, obviously not aware of what was going on. Alec turned back, his expression as cool as he could make it without actually scowling. "No interviews. I was just telling your associate here—"

      "Oh, rest assured Alec that we're not associates." Gerry straightened to his fully inadequate height and nodded, a flat smile on his pale face. "I'm a professional, not some wannabe bimbo who isn't smart enough to know her own place."

     The callous words echoed then died away in the absolute silence that suddenly surrounded them. Alec couldn't believe his own ears, and if it hadn't been for the reactions around him, he would have sworn he had imagined the words.

     A couple of the players gathered nearby edged closer, their postures erect and stiff. Even Nathan looked defensive. But the reaction that stood out the most was AJ's.

     It was the exact opposite of what Alec would expect from her. Instead of standing tall and looking eager to take the guy on, her entire posture was defeated. Her shoulders slumped and her head hung low, as if she had been beaten terribly in some major game. Alec couldn't see much of her face because it was covered by her hair, but what he could see was red and blotchy. Quickly he looked away, not wanting to see if there were tears in her eyes, not caring for the protective feeling that rippled through him at the thought.

     But Gerry Brown stood there as if nothing had happened, as if his words had gone unnoticed. Or worse, as if they were acceptable and he expected everyone to agree with him. Anger swept through Alec, cold and quick, and he opened his mouth to speak. Nathan's hand clamped down on his shoulder with enough force to stop him.

     "Actually Alec, Mr. Brown's viewpoint aside, I think any sports writer should at least have some knowledge and enjoyment of the game, don't you?"

     Alec stared at Nathan as if he had lost his mind. Maybe he had, because his words had absolutely nothing to do with the current situation.

      "You see, AJ and I were talking, and she had a little proposition for you."

      "I don't think—"

     Gerry Brown interrupted AJ with a snort of laughter. "A
proposition
. Of course she did."

     "Actually Mr. Brown, it was a very interesting proposal. Maybe you'd be willing to do the same."

     AJ was now squirming and shaking her head, visibly uncomfortable at whatever Nathan was about to say. The fact that she seemed suddenly unable to talk peaked Alec's interest, because he had never seen her speechless. He motioned for Nathan to continue. "What kind of proposal?"

     "A little one-on-one. Or maybe one-or-two, if Mr. Brown is interested."

     Alec raised his brow, confused. He wasn't quite sure where Nathan was leading him, and he didn't know if he wanted to find out. "One-on-one?"

     "Not one-on-one." AJ finally spoke up, her voice still more subdued than Alec was used to. She faced him again, some of her stubbornness coming back as he watched. "A shoot-out."

     "What?" It wasn't what Alec expected to hear. "You want a shoot-out?"

     "Well, yeah. Kinda."

     "You're kidding."

     "No, I'm not kidding. I get five chances. If I can score just once, you agree to let me do a story on you."

     "You're kidding." Alec couldn't stop his chuckle, not sure which was funnier: that she thought he'd agree, or that she thought she had a chance. "No way."

     "Why not?"

     "Because it's ridiculous, that's why."

     "Why? Are you afraid I might actually get one across the line?"

     AJ stared at him, her hands fisted on her hips, the stubborn gleam back in her eye. Alec felt his eyes drawn to the shirt pulled tight across her chest and he had an irrational urge to shake some sense into her. The urge had nothing to do with what she was proposing, which irritated him even more.

     Several of the players watched him, waiting for his answer. Alec glanced around at them then at Nathan, and saw the corner of his mouth twitch in a smile he was obviously trying not to show. He tried to think of a way to say no without looking stupid. He had nothing to worry about—there was no way AJ would be able to get a puck by him.

     So what reason could he possibly have to say no?

     Alec clenched his jaw and swore to himself.

     "Okay, you're on. And I'll do one even better. Five chances to cross the line. Do it just once, and I'm yours for a month, twenty-four/seven. How's that sound?" He readjusted his grip on the goalie stick and lowered his helmet. "Nathan, get them suited up. I don't want them getting hurt."

     "What?" AJ's voice was a squeak of disbelief. "You want to do this now?"

     He faced her before she could speak again. "Now or never sweetheart. What's it going to be?"

     "Uh..." AJ studied him for a few seconds then nodded, her lips pursed in an obvious attempt to stop herself from saying anything else. He smiled at her then faced Gerry Brown.

     "And you Mr. Brown...now or never. What's it going to be?"

     "I would certainly never—"

     "Good, just what I wanted to hear. Somebody get him out of here. And Mr. Brown, I never want to see you again. Is that clear?" Alec didn't even wait to see what the reporter would do, just turned and walked back to the ice.

     This whole thing was ridiculous. There was no way AJ would score. But if he had to play this little game to be left in peace, then he would. At least he had managed to get one of them out of his hair. With any luck, the other one would be gone in a matter of minutes as well.

     Alec ignored the weird feeling that last thought gave him as his blades hit the ice.

**

     "Oh my God, what have I done?" AJ muttered the phrase under her breath for the hundredth time. She wanted to rub her chest but she couldn't reach it under the thick pads now covering her. She wanted to go home and curl up in a dark corner and forget about the whole thing.

    
Me and my bright ideas.

     "Are you going to be okay?"

     AJ snapped her head up and looked at Ian. The poor guy had been given the job of helping her get dressed in the pads, and she almost felt sorry for him. Almost. Between her nervousness and the threat of an impending migraine, she was too preoccupied to muster much sympathy for anyone else right now.

     "Yeah, I'm fine." She took a deep breath and stood, wobbling for only a second on the skates. This was not how she had imagined the bet going. When she cooked up the stupid idea, she had figured on having a few days to at least practice.

     Well, not really. If she was honest with herself, she never even imagined that Alec would agree to it. But if he had, then she would have had a few days to practice.

     So much for her imagination.

     She took another deep breath then followed Ian from the locker room. It didn't take too long for her gait to even out and she muttered a thankful prayer. She only hoped that she didn't sprawl face-first as soon as she stepped on the ice.

     Her right hand clenched around the stick, getting used to the feel of it, getting used to the fit of the bulky glove—which was too big to begin with. This would have been so much easier if all she had to do was put on a pair of skates. She had never considered the possibility of having to put all the gear on, right down to the helmet that was a heavy weight bearing down on her head.

     She really needed to do something with her imagination and its lack of thinking things all the way through.

     AJ took another deep breath when they finally reached the ice. She reached out to open the door but was stopped by Ian.

     "Listen, AJ, I'm not even going to pretend I know what's going on or why you think you can do this, but I'll give you some advice. Shoot fast and low, and aim for the five and two holes—those are Alec's weak spots. The five hole is—"