Does that mean…
“Were you watching?”
“Hmm?”
“Were you watching?” I repeat. “My game, I mean.”
“Oh.” She bites into her bottom lip again. “Uh, yeah. I was.”
My chest swells with excitement over that.
“That was a nice goal,” she says. “I mean, I don’t really know much about hockey, but it looked nice. The commentator guy said you wenttop shelf, where Mama hides the peanut butter, whatever the hell that means.”
I’m so used to the different hockey slang that sometimes I forget there’s a whole group of people out there who have no idea what we’re saying half the time.
“It just means I scored in the upper part of the net, kind of like a mom hiding goodies from the kids in an upper cabinet. I guess it’s sort of my signature move. Some hockey players have them, some don’t.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess that makes sense.”
“What do you mean you don’t know much about hockey? Your brother literally plays it professionally for a living.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Reed was already doing his thing when I came along, so it’s not like it’s something I grew up with. I’ve been to a few of his games, and I suppose I understand the basic rules, but I don’t know all the phrases and sayings and the whosits and whatsits. I didn’t even know who you were.”
Just like that, I’m thinking of our night together again. Her hair fanned out over the bed as I slid inside her, the way she clawed at me and urged me on. How good she felt wrapped around me. Her crying in my arms in the middle of the street, confessing all her fears.
I’m thinking of all of it, and for the first time since I started playing hockey, I wish I weren’t on the road right now. I want to be there with her. Even if we aren’t really anything to each other, I still want that, and I’m not quite sure what to make of that.
She settles into the couch more, getting comfortable, and I do the same, climbing into my bed. She leans closer to the phone, like she’s inspecting my surroundings.
“Where are you?” she asks.
“Anaheim. We’ll have tomorrow off after practice, probably some press stuff, then an optional morning skate and play the next night.”
“What do you do with your time off?”
“It just kind of depends on what I’m feeling that day. Sometimes I’ll hit the links with a few of the boys, sometimes I’ll just chill in my hotel room trying to escape Lawson.”
She laughs. “I’ve only met him a few times, but he seems like a handful.”
“Oh, you have no idea. I honestly don’t know how his girlfriend puts up with him.”
“He has a girlfriend?! No, wait. I knew that. It’s Auden’s sister, right?”
“Yep, her twin, Rory. Which means if they get married, he and Hutch will be family.”
“Oh, I’m sure Reed will love that. Then he’ll have a brotheranda sister to hate.”
She says it so flippantly, but I can tell her dynamic with Hutch bothers her. It makes me want to sit down and have a talk with my captain about that, but there are far more important things I need to discuss with him first, like her living in my penthouse, for starters.
“He doesn’t hate you.”
“No, he just thinks I’m evil.” She rolls her eyes. “But whatever. I’m great, and he’s just a grump. His loss.”
“It really is,” I agree, meaning every word.
Her cheeks redden at that, but she covers up her discomfort with a yawn.
“Oh, gosh. Sorry. The ‘I think I killed a fish’ adrenaline must be wearing off. Long day at the bar.”
