Page 77 of The Overtime Persuasive

I read the message again. The word shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Better than possible girlfriend, for sure, but also…labels. I hesitate to label any of this until Eva and I get to figure it out between us.

Still, I don’t correct Lucy. However, I also don’t answer her, because rewarding this behavior will only encourage it. She doesn’t need to know that I was with Eva last night at her place, helping her with her heating issue, and I already asked her to come.

Lucy

I can see that you read this.

I set the phone face down and wish my sister would stop, but I know she won’t.

The phone dings again.

Lucy

HOT LIPS.

Part of me wishes Eva were coming tonight, but she has plans. She’s staying home to get ahead on next month’s boxes so shipping week doesn’t bury her. I respect the hell out of her for it. I also find it unfairly hot. Now all I can think about is showing up at her apartment when she’s finished, sliding a hand into her hair, and kissing that determined look right off her face.

Movement catches my eye as Thomas comes back down the tree and advances cautiously toward the peanuts.

“I bet you’re an only squirrel, never had a sister with boundary issues, huh?” All of that is unlikely to be true, but Thomas only stares as he nibbles. We’re making great strides.

I carry the box to a bench, deciding to mount it properly on my maple tree tomorrow, when I have more time and less chance of arriving at the arena with sawdust in my hair.

Thomas watches from several feet away.

I point to his house. “There you go. Winter accommodations.”

He looks at the box, then at the remaining peanuts.

He chooses the peanuts.

“Well, that was a fruitful afternoon of conversation. Thanks, Thomas.”

I gather my tools and close the garage. For a moment, I stand in the driveway, struck by how quickly everything about my world has changed. The season has started. There’s a leadership role that’s within reach, and now…

There’s Eva.

Both are close enough for me to imagine as mine, yet neither truly is.

I should probably find that terrifying.

Instead, I walk into the house smiling.

By the middle of the second period, Thomas and his squirrel house feel like part of a parallel universe that is my life.

New York came to Alexandria looking for a fight.

This rivalry was already there and cemented before we knocked them out of the playoffs last season. Now, each and every hit carries a little extra force. The officials have spent most of the game skating between the teams, warning both benches to settle down.

The score is tied at one when New York’s number seventeen slams Sawyer into the boards after the puck is gone. Sawyer gets up swinging. Campbell reaches him first, catching the back of his jersey and hauling him away before he can do anything that will put us down a man, while number seventeen smiles as he skates past our bench.

Sawyer shouts something about meeting him in the parking lot while I climb over the boards for the next shift and line up beside Ty.

“Everyone’s losing it,” I say.

“Then we don’t.” Ty adjusts his grip on his stick. “Simple as that.”

The puck drops. New York wins the draw and sends it deep. I turn to retrieve it, taking a shoulder against the glass as I move the puck behind the net to Ty.