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Smiling because he didn’t say no, I continue to detail my plan. “We can both order room service and eat together in our rooms. Maybe even do it over FaceTime. It’ll be like the other night, except, you know, not sitting at the same table. We can see if that helps me play better again tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he says. “But can you give me few minutes? I was getting out of shower when you called.”

“Nikolai.” My eyebrows raise in curiosity. “Have you been naked this whole time?”

“No. I have on towel.”

The thought of him having this conversation only in a towel makes something in my chest flutter. Not butterflies as that’s never made sense to me, but something similar. Bigger. Atlas moth.

“Go get dressed,” I tell him. “Put on something comfortable. This is a casual dinner. Then order room service. Call me on FaceTime after it arrives and we can set up face to face.”

“Like a date?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice.

It makes me laugh. “Exactly,” I say. “A friend date.”

After we get off the phone, setting up for dinner is easy enough. While I may be missing out on barbeque with my team, I see that the hotel has a burger on their menu, so I order that. I’ll grab barbeque with the team another time. Besides, it wasn’t ribs that nipped my yips. It was Nikolai.

When I see his name pop up on my screen about fifteen minutes after we hung up, I rush to answer it then place my phone on the hotel room desk, propping it up against the Bible I found in one of the drawers. It’s a good sturdy base. That book isn’t going to let me down as a phone holder.

“What did you order?” he asks. I can’t see what’s in front of him. Whatever he ordered still has the silver dome placed over it.

I drag my food across the desk, then grab my burger and hold it up before taking a bite. “Burger and fries,” I say around my mouthful.

“Me too,” he says, holding up his own. “This is one of many American foods I love.”

“Really?” I ask, not sure why that surprises me. Maybe because to me it seems so basic, and so obvious. It’s not like it’s some delicacy.

“Yes,” he says. “In America, a burger is experience.” He takes a bite and looks content as he chews. Even over the phone, his presence is calming.

“Then you must have been in heaven at my cup party. My dad is great on the grill.”

“Burgers were good, yes,” he says. Even through the phone screen, the way he eyes me is intense. “Party would have been better if we were celebrating my cup. Not yours.”

I wince. “Still pissed about that, huh?”

“Yes. But not at you.”

“You guys almost had us. You gave us a good fight. You should be proud of that.”

“I am,” he says thoughtfully. “Still would be better if we won.”

“I’d say better luck this year,” I say with a nonchalant shrug. “But since you’ll be facing me in the cup finals it feels a bit insincere.”

He lifts his glass of what I assume is water and takes a sip. Then he eyes me over the rim with one eyebrow raised. “We both have to make it there first.”

“Are you doubting me?” My lips lift up at the corners. I do ever so love a challenge.

“I would never doubt you,” he says, all traces of teasing gone.

Nikolai

It might have been the most ridiculous idea Ander ever had, but it worked.

I’m sitting on the edge of my seat back at home in my apartment in St. Louis watching the Blizzards versus the Steers on my big screen TV.

After we won our game against Nashville, we went directly to the airport and got on our plane to fly home. It was a quick flight and we made it back with plenty of time for me to catch all of Ander’s game. I haven’t missed a second.

He’s playing great. Better even than he did in Vancouver. It’s as if he’s getting back into his groove. And I couldn’t be happier for him. Or more proud.