Do not get excited. If Forest really wanted to see me again, he’d call himself. “I recall. Didn’t go so well.”
Another chuckle. “I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to you for a second. We still need a goalie to help us defeat the worst team in the beer league.”
I lean against the Jeep and look up into the dark sky. “I dunno, man. If you need my help to defeat the worst team in the beer league, maybe they’re not the worst team in the beer league? And it can’t be me. Sorry. Too embarrassed now.”
“Okay, let me clarify. I meant the worst people, not the worst players. But we’ll get to that in a second. First you need to know that the rejection wasn’t about you. When Forest said he doesn’t do hookups, he really wasn’t lying.”
“Oh,” I say heavily. “Cool. Thanks.” But I don’t see how that makes things better for either of us. Because that doesn’t sound fun for Forest, and I’d also like to have sex before I die.
“And you put him in a spot, kid. He turns you down, and his team forfeits to a bunch of assholes.”
“Yeah, that sucks.” And yet, it’s not my problem. It shouldn’t be anyway. The Ice Cats wouldn’t be thrilled about me volunteering for a beer league game. It’s probably against the rules. Hockey loves rules.
“This team is called the Plague. They chose that name. It tells you a lot.”
I snort. Not sure why I’m still on the phone with this guy, but I hear myself ask a question. “What’s your team called?”
“It’s a queer-friendly team. We’re called the Stickhandlers.”
I bark out a laugh before I can help myself.
“The Plague, though. You know what they pulled during our last matchup? Their D-man made AIDS jokes the whole game. Their goalie called us the ‘Sugar Plum Fairies’ and asked why our jerseys aren’t pink. Real original stuff.” Scully’s voice drips with sarcasm. “But the worst part was when they started in on Forest’s kid. Asked if he was gonna grow up to be a—” Scully cuts himself off. “Well. You can imagine.”
I grip my phone tighter. “Shit.”
“So now you know what we’re up against. Don’t you want to give us a shot at stopping them?”
Damn it. I kinda do.
“We’re having a practice Monday.”
“Monday when? I’ve got… I’m busy until at least noon.”
“Practice is at nine p.m. And it’s in Boulder, which is a haul. But it’s in a fantastic facility. You’d love it.”
I don’t give a crap about the facility. I just want to stop some pucks, shut down some assholes, and impress Forest. Maybe not in that exact order.
“If Boulder is an issue, I could pick you up…”
“That’s not the issue. But what does Forest think about this? Is he gonna run the other way when I show up at practice?”
“No way,” Scully says quickly. “He’s totally onboard. He thinks you’re great. He just…”
“Doesn’t want to tie me up and fuck me. Got it.”
Scully makes a half-laughing, half-choking sound. “I’m not sure that’s even accurate. But Forest is a stubborn bastard, so there’s no point in discussing it.”
“Whatever,” I grumble. “Text me the address. I’ll see you Monday.”
Scully lets out a whoop of joy. “Hero! Thank you!”
He ends the call, and I get into my Jeep, feeling upbeat, which is kind of pathetic. I’m no closer to getting out of my slump, or getting Forest naked, but at least I made one dude happy.
I drive home to our quiet little house on the outskirts of Loveland and go inside. When my phone lights up with a text, it’s Scully again, with a mapped address.
After I tap on it, I say, “Oh shit.”
Four
