The sound immediately drew a satisfied look from Tannen. Great. Now there were two of them.
"I knew I liked you," Tannen announced.
Kieran laughed again and shook his head.
The nervousness I'd noticed when we walked into the room hadn't disappeared completely, but it wasn't sitting quite so close to the surface anymore.
Good.
A couple of the other guys wandered over then, curious enough to finally introduce themselves. Briggs arrived a minute later, towering over everybody as usual, and immediately launched into a story about something that had happened on the road trip.
Not everybody joined us. A few guys offered nods from across the room before going back to whatever they were doing. One or two barely looked up at all.
That was fine. Nobody owed me enthusiasm. Nobody owed Kieran instant friendship. They just had to treat him with respect.
So far, they were. So fuck them.
For a few minutes, the room felt more relaxed than I'd expected. Guys moved between stalls, equipment bags sat open on the floor, and conversations overlapped from every corner of the room. But underneath it all, the rhythm of game day was already taking shape. A trainer crossed the room carrying rolls of tape. One of the assistant coaches appeared in the doorway and exchanged a few words with a player. A couple of guys started getting dressed for warmups. The closer we got to puck drop, the more the room began shifting from social to business.
Within minutes, Kieran was answering questions, laughing occasionally, and looking far less like somebody bracing for impact.
I stayed where I was and watched it happen. He didn't need rescuing, and I sure as hell liked seeing him here. Liked seeing him settle. Liked seeing him realize that the people who mattered weren't treating him like he didn't belong.
The moment was brief, but that was probably for the best. Pregame routines mattered. In another twenty minutes, half the room would be taping sticks, reviewing assignments, or getting yelled at by coaches. Right now, though, there was still enough time for introductions. Enough time for Kieran to see this part of my life before hockey took over the rest of the evening.
A hand smacked Briggs on the shoulder hard enough to make him grunt.
"Move, baby." It was Briggs’s wife, Jasmine.
Briggs immediately stepped aside. "Yes, dear."
Jazz had the kind of confidence that came from years around professional athletes. "Coach is looking for half of you idiots," she announced. Then she looked Kieran up and down before turning to me. "This him?"
I laughed. "Jazz, this is Kieran."
Her expression softened instantly. "It's nice to meet you."
Kieran smiled. "You too."
Jazz pointed toward the hallway. “I'm stealing you before hockey takes over everybody's personality."
Kieran blinked. "You are?"
"Unless you'd rather sit down here and listen to hockey players argue about tape jobs and defensive zone coverage."
Briggs looked offended. "We discuss other things."
"No, you don't."
Kieran laughed. The sound earned him an approving nod.
"See? He's smart. Come on."
Kieran looked at me. The question was obvious. You sure?
I nodded. Go, baby, I mouthed.
Jazz immediately hooked her arm through his. "Congratulations. You belong to the hockey spouses' support group."
