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"When you're a hockey player, it is," Will said.
Drew raised his eyebrows. "But my wife can be persuasive."
"You are so sweet, Drew."
"Stop telling him that," Will said. "You'll get him all mellow and mushy and then he'll suck during the games."
Drew glared at Will. "I never suck at hockey."
"I seem to recall the Ice jamming up the Travelers a time or two." Will said slanting a grin in Drew's direction. "Or maybe five or six. Ten or twelve."
"I think you have a faulty memory, because our defense kicked your ass the week before we flew out here."
Will gave a thoughtful look to Drew. "Buddy, did you take a stick to the head in our last matchup? Because I'm pretty sure we won that game."
"Yeah, and I think Kozlow slammed your head against the boards too hard, because you're suffering from amnesia."
Amber rolled her eyes and ate her lunch while she listened to the two of them argue it out. It was a good thing figure skaters didn't trash talk each other like this.
Then again, it might fire them up if they did. Though their competitions weren't one-on-one and they didn't occupy the ice at the same time. Still, they were all adversaries.
Amber couldn't imagine trying to skate against one of her competitors, on the ice at the same time.
Since Will and Drew had decided to forego their argument in favor of devouring their food, she turned to Will. "When I compete, I'm all alone on the ice. It's my performance that will win or lose for me. What's it like, fighting it out on the ice against a competitor?"
Will looked at Drew, and they both grinned.
"It's the biggest adrenaline rush there is," Will said.
Drew nodded. "It fuels a fire inside of me like nothing else ever has."
Will half turned to face her. "You know that with every game the other team is going to be good. Sometimes even better than you. You have to find the fight inside of you, that fire that burns deep inside, like Drew said. You have to want to win more than they do, and fight as hard as you can, because you know they aren't going to make it easy for you."
"It helps if you're good at what you do, too." Drew shot a confident grin at Will.
"Yeah, that part helps," Will said. "But when you get to the level of a professional player, it's a given that you're good."
Will looked at Amber. "We know we're playing at the top of our game. We've been at this for several years now. We're not rookies just learning the ropes anymore. Our team counts on us to know what the hell we're doing."
"And to be the best at it," Drew added.
"I love hearing both of you describe playing. There's such a passion that comes out of you when you talk about it, as if you were born to do this."
Will laughed. "I don't know about Drew, but I was practically born playing hockey. I don't remember a time when I wasn't playing."
Drew cocked a smile. "Same."
She finished up her chicken, then set her bowl to the side.
"You're the same way about figure skating, aren't you Amber?" Drew asked.
"You mean that competitive passion?"
Drew nodded.
"I'm here for the third time, one of the oldest figure skaters competing. If I didn't feel that fire to win, I wouldn't have subjected myself to another grueling four years of practices and competitive events. So, yes, I feel that passion."
"I know it's not the same as what we do," Will said. "But I know you have that fire inside of you. I've seen it just in your practices."
"You watched her practice?" Drew asked.
"Yeah. She's beautiful on skates. She has amazing power. And those jumps. Man, you gotta see those jumps. She gets high and does these circles in the air that seem to defy gravity. Then she powers through like nothing I've ever seen. And yet there's this beauty in the way she moves that I can't even describe. It's like--you know when you go to a museum and see something like a painting or a sculpture that makes you stop and stare? You don't know what it is that's getting to you about it. It's just so goddamn beautiful you can't help yourself. You have to stare at it. That's Amber."
Amber could barely breathe. She'd never heard someone describe her skating like that.
"Hell, Madigan, that's fucking poetic," Drew said, slapping him on the back. "I didn't know you had it in you."
Will grinned, then turned to Amber, his lips softening into a tender smile.
"Thank you," she said, reaching out to squeeze his arm.
"You're welcome."
Drew stood. "If you two are going to get all gooey romantic, I'm gonna go call my wife."
Amber smiled at Drew. "It was great having lunch with you, Drew."
"You too, honey. See you on the ice," he said to Will.
"Later, Hogan," Will said.
"I like him," Amber said after Drew walked away.
"I do, too. He's a great guy. But don't tell him I said that since he plays for a competing team."
Amber laughed. "Your secret is safe."
"Does that mean you'll keep all my secrets?"
"That depends. You're not an international spy, are you?"
"Oh, now you're putting conditions on keeping my secrets."
"Hey, I'm a law-abiding citizen. Besides, we're in Canada. I'd like to be able to get back home."
He shot her an incredulous look. "You'd throw me under the bus, sell me out, feed me to the wolves, all just to get back into the US?"
"You bet your ass I would. Who'd feed my cat otherwise?"
"You have a cat?"
She leveled a smile at him. "No."
"I didn't think so. You don't strike me as a cat person."
"I love cats. And what does that mean?"
"I love cats, too. I just picture you walking some retriever-Labrador mix down the streets of Manhattan."
She laughed. "I live on Long Island, not Manhattan."
He shrugged. "I still have this mental picture of you walking some big dog in Manhattan."
"Are you telling me you've had some psychic vision that I'm going to be moving to Manhattan?"
He leaned forward and teased his fingers up her forearm, giving her delicious chills. "I don't know. Maybe. Why? Do you have some secret desire to live in Manhattan?"
"No. I'd like to move somewhere outside of New York."
"Yeah? Any idea where?"
"I don't have a clue."
"And what would you do in this unknown place?"
"Teach figure skating to kids who can't afford it."
Drew leaned back, as if he was trying to figure out if she was on the level or not. "Really. Got it all figured out, huh?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
She shrugged. "I was always skating with the privileged kids when I was younger. And then in competitions I'd hear stories of community fund-raisers and how much work went into getting some of these kids to competitions. It seemed so . . . unfair. It made me wonder how many more never even have the chance to learn how to skate, let alone get to the point where they could compete. There have to be amazingly talented kids with so much potential who only need to be given the opportunity to learn."
He didn't say anything.
"What?" she asked.
"That's a kick-ass idea, Amber."
She smiled. "Thanks. It's a passion. I hope I get to do it."
"No reason you can't."
"Plus, my mother will hate it. She wants me to be famous."
"No shit?"
"Yes. She thinks when my career is finished I can use it as a stepping stone to bigger things."
"What kinds of bigger things?"
"I have no idea. A book? Product endorsements? Knowing her, she already has a plan for me."
He shifted in his seat, turning his chair so he faced her. Then he leaned forward. "Have you ever told your mom your plan for your future?"
"God, no. I'd have to endure endless lectures about how I have to use my talent to climb the ladder to success and fame."
Will grimaced. "
Seriously?"
"Oh, yes. I've been hearing that speech since I was five."
"No, you haven't."
"I have. Which is why I keep my plans for my future to myself."
"I can see why. Sorry, Amber."
"Don't be. I'm used to her. Besides, I know in her heart she wants what's best for me, but sometimes I think her ambitions for herself when she was younger get mixed up with what she wants for me."
"You should talk to her."
She shook her head. "I tried, twice. Once when I was a teenager, and then again when I turned twenty-one. She argued that she knew best and I should trust her to manage my career. I gave up after that."
"I dunno. My dad put me on skates when I was little because he loved hockey. I took to it right away. I joined hockey clubs and played all through school, but I never felt pushed into it. I was always allowed to make my own choices. Fortunately for me, I fell in love with the sport and can't imagine doing anything else."
"You can't play hockey the rest of your life, Will."
"I can't?"
He grinned.
Amber laughed. "I mean, hockey players have a shelf life."
"True. I also have a degree in marketing and communication."
"Decent. What do you plan to do post hockey career?"
"I don't know. If my brother doesn't want to take over the family bar, then I will. I already have ideas for expansion."
"That sounds fun."
"You'd like the bar. It's rowdy and exciting, and if you like sports, it's a magical place. There's always a game of some kind or another on, though in Chicago it's typically going to be baseball, football or hockey. And when the international games are on, everyone comes to the bar."
