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“Wine recommendation?” Foreman had just walked in with Reid Durand and stopped midway to his locker. “You’re buying fancy wine?”
“Perhaps he’s serving it with fava beans. And someone’s liver.” Durand Senior’s brilliant contribution.
“So the wine was a success?” Burnett asked after sending a look of disgust Reid’s way. “What did you eat?”
“Lasagna. Turkey and fennel.”
“That sounds good.” He unzipped his jacket. “Not sure the Merlot would go well with that, but when you don’t know what they’re serving up, you’re going in blind. Next time, you should get more information in advance, and I can make a better recommendation.”
Kershaw held up both hands. “Who cares what they ate and drank? Who’s inviting O’Malley for dinner? And is it the same people he needs tickets for?”
“It’s Ashley.”
The D-man’s mouth dropped like an oxygen-deprived trout. “From Riverbrook Animal Shelter?”
“With her daughter.” Dex shifted from one foot to the other. Why was this such a big deal?
“Willa’s coming to the game?” Reid asked.
Dex whipped around. “You know Willa?”
“Sure. I used to pick up Ken at the shelter when she volunteered there. Met Willa a couple of times. She’s a cool kid. Is she still into butterflies?”
“Yeah, she is.” A streak of jealousy chilled Dex’s gut. He didn’t like that Reid already had an in with Willa and maybe even Ashley.
Jesus, not even high school. More like middle.
“So that’s who’s coming tonight?” Kershaw getting everyone back on the gossip track.
“If I can get the tickets organized!” These assholes!
Burnett cracked up. “Go talk to Mindy in Player Relations. She’ll see you right.”
“Okay. Thanks. And the rest of you? Don’t make a big deal out of it, alright? She’s just a nice person with a kid who likes hockey, and who’s been kind to me, helping me out of this fix. So stop making out like there’s something going on. She might be coming to the locker room after and the last thing I need is you jabronis spouting your smart comments and embarrassing her. And me.”
Dex’s outburst sent the room into an awkward silence. A couple more players had walked in—Petrov and Bond—and the sight of six pairs of judgmental eyes boring into him made Dex feel one inch tall.
Foreman broke the awkward silence. “Sounds like O’Malley has a crush.”
“Just shut it.” Dex walked out with the sound of laughter echoing in his ears.
Fuckers.
Coach Calhoun called Dex over to the bench after skating drills during morning practice.
“Doc says you’re good to go.”
Dex agreed, though he was good to go last week as well. Best to keep that to himself. The brass hated when players got chippy.
“Looking forward to tonight. Ready to play.”
Coach narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see.”
Dex’s heart dropped and practically burned a hole through the ice. “But I have to play.” He’d endured all that bullshit in the locker room and had sorted out the tickets. He sure as hell refused to be riding the pine when he had guests in the house. “Coach, I’m ready, I swear.”
“I know you are.” Coach grinned, which was not a good look on him. Fucking creepy, to be honest. “Just yanking your chain. I’ve seen the work you’ve been putting in since your spot of trouble. Makes a nice change. This last year, I’ve not been convinced of your commitment to this team, O’Malley.”
That his attitude had filtered through to Coach—and the rest of the team—rankled. He didn’t want anyone thinking he wasn’t a hard worker or might even be a liability.
