I love you, I want to say. The words are practically jumping out of my mouth. I don’t want to do anything for show—I just want to hold her close. But will she think it’s for them or will she know it’s for her?
I kiss her head again. She smells like milk and honey. Like comfort. Like home.
“You two are gross,” Hunter says.
“Your face is gross,” Kayla says, still leaning in. “Now who wants to say grace?”
Dinner goes better than I hoped. Kayla’s brothers aren’t overbearing or overly protective, but they are invested in her life. And that means, they’re invested in me.
They pepper me with questions about hockey. They have a passing interest in the sport, but the same way all guys do who grew up watching ESPN highlights reels.
“If you make the team next year,” Gray says, “we’ll get a box. We’ll be there every game.”
“Maybe not every game,” Lawson says. “You do have jobs.”
“Our boss is the worst,” Gray says in an exaggerated whisper from his spot on the couch. “Always harping on us to ‘get to work’ and ‘stop playing around.’”
“Such a drag,” Hunter agrees.
“I could always stop paying your checks,” Lawson says.
“On second thought, he’s a really good boss,” Hunter says.
Gray chimes in. “And he still has all his hair, which is impressive in this economy.”
We all snort at that.
After dinner, I gather up the trash while Kayla and Wes clean up. I’m on my way out to the garbage bins when I get a call.
From Otto.
My pulse spikes as I answer. “Hey, Otto.”
“It’s time, Sean,” he says in his lightly accented voice. “I know we talked about you having a physical, but management wants a closer look. We have a three week development camp starting Monday. You’re one of only a handful being invited. If you show up sharp and healthy, you’ll have a three-year contract waiting for you.”
“Three years?” I drop the bag in the bin.
“You impressed a lot of people during the playoffs. Keep impressing us.”
“I’ll do my best. Thanks, Otto.”
Otto’s offer shouldn’t make my stomach churn.
It shouldn’t fill me with uncertainty or doubt. But I’m not twenty-one anymore. I’ve got roots starting to form. A woman I’ve fallen for. A life that’s not built around hotel rooms, buses, and protein shakes.
Still. This has been the dream since I first strapped on a pair of skates.
Why aren’t I happier about it?
I’m dialing another number before I can even think. You’d think it would be my brother. Heck,Ithink it should be my brother.
But for some reason, I call Fletch.
“What’s up, Sean?”
“The Arsenal wants me to come in for a prospect camp. Starts Monday. If I do well, they’ll offer me a three-year contract.”
“Awesome. Congrats.”
