Page 23 of King of the Crease

Hank texts in the middle of the movie. My stomach flutters like the pages of Colin Firth’s character’s manuscript getting swept into the lake by a big breeze. Did they not have laptops in 2003?

Hank: Are we still on for tomorrow morning at Summers Rink?

Nick: 7 sharp.

Hank: Nice. We’re going to shark all that rust off in time for Sunday’s game.

Hank: *shake

Nick: I like shark better.

Hank: Yes! Shark should be a verb. It’s already a week.

“What’s so funny?” Millie turns to me from her oversized armchair, where she’s curled under a chunky blanket.

“Oh…it’s…nothing. Just coordinating for tomorrow’s practice.”

“Tell Hank I say hi.” Her smile is all-knowing.

Nick: Are you snowed in as well?

Hank: Yep. I’m watching A Christmas Story.

By yourself? I want to ask. I realize that despite how comfortable I feel around him, I know little about Hank’s personal life.

Nick: We watched The Polar Express and Elf. Now watching Love Actually.

Hank: Isn’t it weird how there’s a whole porn subplot in Love Actually?

Nick: What’s Christmas cheer without porn?

That may be the first time I ever texted about porn. It’s a good thing nobody in the palace has access to this phone.

Hank: And why is Hugh Grant’s love interest constantly called fat? She’s hot!

I deflate at the mention of a girl being hot. Is that his cue to me that he’s straight? He’s a small-town hockey player. It’s likely that he’s straight. It’s so hard to tell whether Hank’s friendliness is just that, or if there’s more under the surface. Now I get why people say dating is hard.

Nick: Some guys like full-figured women.

Or full-figured guys. Guys with a chest, stomach, and ass that’s as big as their smile.

You have to stop! I tell myself. Hank is a friend. A few days outside of royal control and you’re forgetting all about your powers of suppression.

“Do you know when you talk to yourself, your lips move?” Millie sips her mug of hot tea. I turn as red as their Christmas tree skirt.

“Just enjoy your beverage and problematic Christmas movie and leave me alone.”

“Whatever is going on with you and your new teammate, don’t stop.”

“Do you ever get tired of being a corrupting influence on me, Millie?”

“No,” she whispers into her mug.

I wake up the next morning at 5:54, six minutes before my alarm goes off. Adam has to go to the farm early, so he agrees to drive me to the rink.

I know it’s counterproductive to take a shower before athletic practice, but I tell myself the shower will wake me up and not that I’m showering for Hank.

My royal phone buzzes in my dresser drawer as I’m half-dressed. I promised Agnes I’d keep it charged and on in case of emergencies. I open the call to a FaceTime. Agnes averts her eyes at my naked chest.