Page 25 of Offside

I was mid-conversation with Novak when Griffin materialized at my elbow with Maren behind him, still in the Sidewinders hat she’d been wearing at the arena.

“You know my sister,” Griffin said, gesturing to Maren.

“I do,” I said. “How are you, Maren?”

“I’m good, thanks.” Silence fell between us. “Good assist.”

“Thanks. Sorry about the loss.” Sorry about the loss? Like it was a personal affront to her? What the fuck am I saying?

“It’s game one.” She said it with easy certainty, someone who’d grown up in a hockey household and understood what that meant. “Griffin cried after game one of his first NHL season.”

“I did not cry,” Griffin said.

“He cried.”

“I had something in my eye.”

“Both eyes,” Maren said, “at the same time, for twenty minutes.”

Griffin pointed at me. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a liar and she always has been.” Someone called his name across the bar. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said to her, and disappeared into the crowd.

Maren studied the space Griffin had vacated and rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to me.

“He does that,” she said.

“Every time.”

She turned back and the noise of the bar came back around us and it was easy between us the way it had been since the beginning. The corridor, the treatment room, the Sunday dinner table, the kitchen. Always easy. That was part of the problem.

I’d been trying not to think about Sunday. I’d been failing at it for days, replaying the moment in the kitchen like I was watching game film. The coffee maker beeping. The small kitchen. The way she’d raised her eyes to me and waited. I’d been close enough it would have been a choice and I’d known exactly what I was considering and I’d made the right decision, the correct professional and personal decision, and Griffin had yelled from the garage and confirmed it.

I still wasn’t convinced it had been the right decision. That was also part of the problem. Kissing her in her parents kitchen while everyone was home was not a good idea. But there were other places…

My phone buzzed.

Anna: Good assist. Also who is the woman on the bench you keep looking at

Ryan: That’s the Director of Sports Medicine

Anna: Ryan

Ryan: She’s staff. She’s Griffin’s sister. She’s a colleague

Anna: You looked at her three times during warm-ups. I counted

Ryan: The camera was doing warm-up coverage?

Anna: Of your face. Looking at someone. On the bench. Three times

I put my phone in my pocket.

“Everything okay?” Maren asked.

“My sister. She watched the game.” I shook off my sister’s comments and brought my full attention back to Maren.

“That’s sweet.”

“She’s not being sweet.”