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“Um, pineapples!” Her “s” comes out in a lisp due to the hole in her front teeth.
“Good one,” Kit says. “I don’t know much, but one third of all pineapples come from Hawaii.”
“Mom, can we go to Hawaii?”
“Someday, maybe. Ask your dad.”
“Okay.”
“She loves pineapple,” I explain to Damian.
“Alexander says she’s a vegetarian.”
“She is. She’s an animal lover. Especially cats.”
“I, too, love pussies,” he says quietly along the shell of my ear. I burst out laughing at his bold statement. Damian winks, his eyes gleaming.
Maybe my vagina isn’t so useless, after all.
2
Zander
“Ithink I might puke.”
“If that’s what you need, now’s the time,” Cillian tells me calmly, but a smile ghosts over his lips.
“It’s not funny, asshole.”
“You’re right, Rook,” Oliver Lehtinen says, as he tightens the laces of his breezers. I hate the nickname the team gave me as soon as I stepped on the ice at yesterday’s practice, but I am the rookie, so I let it slide. “It’s fucking hilarious.”
A few other guys laugh, and I ignore that too.
“You’ll be fine, Zan. We’ve all been there; just remember you’ve been playing this game your whole life. Tonight is no different, it’s just new ice.”
Easy for Cillian to say. He’s been in the league for years now, having been drafted straight out of junior hockey. He didn’t spend any time in the minors fighting to be seen by an NHL general manager or coach. Cillian Wylder was hotshot since he was fourteen. I’ve been more a steady grinder, not a standout.
Most of the guys on the team are exceptional talents. But I was called up for a reason and I need to remember that. More importantly, I need to earn my damned spot on this team and make sure they never have a reason to send me back down. Or trade me off. I like it here in Seattle. Despite my family being back in Minnesota, Western Washington feels like home.
In large part because of the Coles. When I first moved here to play for the Timberwolves, Coach and his family took me under their wing. He kept a close eye on all his transplant players. But Isla befriended me, and that part was special. She didn’t let many people get close to her back then, because of trust issues. But there was something kindred between the two of us, one damaged and determined soul finding another. Or some shit like that.
Because of her, Cillian and I have grown a friendship of sorts. Maybe even a mentorship that I can’t complain about. He’s probably the closest thing to Gretsky in the league right now.
“Just new ice,” I repeat.
“Yep, now get the fuck out of your head and finish taping your stick,” he says, knocking a fist to my shoulder. “We have warmups in five.”
Every player has their pregame rituals, some stranger than others. Mine is taping my sticks in a very specific and precise way. Everyone tapes their own stick and in their own way. I can get obsessive about it, though. If the tape isn’t exactly right, I’ll rip it all off and start over until it’s perfect.
“You got this, Rook. You’re going to love it; this crowd goes wild for us. You’ll have a host of new pussy lined up by the end of game,” Lehtinen says, leering like a creep from the stall next me.
“Give the kid a break, Olly,” Vaughn says, throwing a towel at him. Oliver is the clown; I quickly picked up on that.
Cillian eyes me with understanding before shrugging. It’s his way of telling me to let the comment slide off my back. Because Cillian Wylder is married to my best friend, he knows I’m bisexual. A fact I’ve always kept quiet. Hockey frowns on anything that deviates from wholesome family values. An NHL player with a boyfriend would be frowned upon greatly.
Not that I have a boyfriend. I have Damian, whatever he is. The thought of him reminds me that he’s here tonight. Watching me play and probably meeting Isla as we speak. And Willa.
Fuck, I can’t wait to see them all. It’s been a mad rush since I got the call that I’d be playing. I was booked on a flight five hours later and shuttled to practice at the Iceplex as soon as I landed. After that, I crashed hard at my hotel because today is game day and I needed to be ready. There hasn’t been time for catching up with old friends. Or new, which is technically what Damian is.
