Page 97 of Hockey Player Seeking Fan

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t you look at Erica again. Don’t you look at her friends. Don’t you even think about saying anything to her. Because if you do, you’ll be off this team and you’ll never play hockey again.”

“Whatever,” he says.

“You want to test me?” I move closer and whisper in his ear. “I know people. And when I say I know people, I can make it so that you’re done.”

I am very much exaggerating and trying to channel someone fromThe Godfather, but he doesn’t need to know that.

He steps back, and I see fear in his eyes.

“Yo, it’s not that important to me. Whatever. If you want to be with her, have her.”

“I don’t need your permission. Now let’s play some hockey. We’ve got a game to win tomorrow, rookie.”

“Yeah, we do,” he says, nodding.

“And Elliot,” I add.

“Yes?” He sounds pissed.

“Just remember—if you need any advice on how to treat a woman, or how to date, or whatever… you can come to me. I’m not going to bite your head off.”

He looks unsure.

“What? I don’t understand…”

“I mean, I was you once. Maybe not as cocky and full of myself, and maybe not such a jackass to women, but I was you. I thought I was the shit. And I would’ve liked to have met someone like me—someone with their head on straight—who could inform me about some things in life. Anything. Money management. How to treat a woman. How to give back to the community. You need help, you come to me.”

His face softens slightly.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah. I don’t hold grudges.”

“I mean, I might have some questions about investments and stuff. If you’re down to have a conversation.”

“Always,” I say.

In fact, I nod over to Erica.

“Her brothers are very good investors. I’m sure they might have even more words of wisdom for you.”

“But they hate me.”

“Nah. You’re good. You’re my teammate now. Let’s play some hockey.”

I skate in the other direction and glance back. He’s got a small smile on his face. I feel at ease. I feel really, really good.

I don’t really like Elliot, but he is my teammate. And I was being honest with him when I said I’d been a bit of a jackass, too, when I was younger. I would’ve appreciated someone reaching out to me. Maybe he isn’t a bad guy. Maybe he just needs to grow up. Maybe I can help him. Maybe I can’t. But at least I’m trying.

I look up into the stands and see Erica. She’s waving and blowing kisses. I watch as Wes and Miles come in and look at her. They look slightly confused. She says something to them, and Wes shakes his head while Miles bursts out laughing. I guess they know now. I’ll have to deal with the heat in the kitchen after the game.

But now I need to focus.

Because I’ve made a commitment to the team.

I’ve made a commitment to myself.