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Or at least that’s my impression of him.
I could be wrong.
It sure wouldn’t be the first time.
“Ahem.” My best friend not so subtly clears her throat and reminds me that I haven’t introduced her yet.
“Where are my manners? Laurie, this is my best friend, Piper. Piper, this is Laurie.”
“How do you do?” Laurie drawls with a thick British accent that he must have picked up from living all those years across the pond.
“I’m doing much better now,” Piper coos, hanging her hand in the air for Laurie to take. I fight off a giggle as I watch Laurie pick up Piper’s hand to give her knuckles a chaste kiss.
Maybe I should have introduced them another way.
‘Hey, Laurie, want a woman that knows her own mind? Well, look no further. Piper Lee is that and then some.’
As the two look deep into each other’s eyes, I catch a glimpse of a scathing scowl in their direction. If I thought Trent Nichols was scary before, he looks downright terrifying right now.
Hmm.
I wonder what that’s all about.
“Here we go!” Piper utters excitedly, pulling her attentive gaze off Laurie to stare down at the ice rink when Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’ starts blasting through the speakers in the stadium.
Watching the players skating onto the rink unexpectedly leaves my stomach in knots. From this distance, it’s hard toknow who’s who, but thankfully, Piper helps me pick out Nate from the line-up.
“He’s number seventeen,” she whispers beside me, looking just as nervous as I am.
“And who are we playing?” I ask, anxiously biting on my thumbnail.
“Detroit Devils,” Trent’s voice rings out, making his presence known to Piper and me.
The man must move like a cheetah.
I didn’t even hear him approach, much less weasel himself in between Piper and Laurie.
“And is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I ask, honestly invested in knowing everything about Nate’s opposing team.
“They’re a good team. Strong. Hungry,” Trent explains, his eyes locked on his team’s formation.
“The Guardians are hungrier,” Piper interjects as if needing to defend her team from its own GM.
“Let’s see,” Trent rebukes dryly.
My eyes lock onto number seventeen, never straying away from Nate. I’m a bit saddened by the fact that I don’t know the first thing about hockey, and I wish I knew the rules of the game to better experience it. Still, I get the premise of it, at least. Whoever scores more wins. Looks easy enough. Just get a puck in a net. How hard could that be?
“What does Nate do exactly?” I ask, clearly showing my lack of knowledge of the sport.
“Wilder is what you would call a grinder,” Trent says as if I should know what that terminology means.
“And what does a grinder do exactly?”
“They are the guys that keep the puck in play,” he explains curtly.
“What Nichols means is that Nate’s role is to go into the corners to dig out the puck and then set up goals by gettingthe puck to the team’s offense. He’s responsible for winning puck battles along the boards, delivering crushing hits, all while focusing on forechecking, backchecking, and creating turnovers. He plays a crucial role in wearing down opposing defensemen and creating scoring opportunities for his teammates. In other words, Nate willingly endures loads of physical abuse by the opposing players just to get the puck in the right hands,” Piper explains patiently.
“Sounds to me like Nate has the worst job on the team. Doesn’t he get hurt?”
