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“Maybe I should have suspected you’d be a closet cuddler. I just figured you didn’t get where you are by being a softie, and I’ve seen how you are with the boys when they’re not pulling their weight on the ice. It’s a lot different from how you are outside of your job. And definitely different than how you are with me.” She runs her thumb over my knuckles.
“My job is to keep my team in line and make sure they’re working together and unified. I can’t afford to be soft with them or they’ll walk all over me. Not because they’re a bunch of assholes, but because the only way you can be a successful elite athlete is by having guidance, structure, and rules.” It’s something I’ve had to learn how to balance carefully, and not let that hardass attitude seep into my personal and family life.
“Oh, I get it. Leading a team is a big deal. And watching you and Alex together . . .” She shakes her head and rolls her eyes to the ceiling. “Let’s just say my friend Paxton and the ladies in my painting class are big fans.”
“What do you mean they’re big fans? Of hockey? Do you want me to get you extra tickets for a few Tennessee games?”
“I’m pretty sure those women would love that.” Her smile widens. “Some of those ladies ship you and Alex.”
I’m sure I must look confused. “Doesn’t that mean they want us to be a couple? Or does ship mean something else? I’m too old for today’s slang. Why can’t things be rad and awesome and cool?” I can also feel my face warming.
Hanna props her chin on her fist and her eyes glint with humor. “Sort of, they dig on your bromance.”
“We don’t have a bromance.”
“You’re two very attractive men who manage and coach a hockey team. When you’re on the road, you’re always together. And Alex has four kids and a wife, and you have a daughter in her twenties who is always at the games, and it’s very clear that you’re close. Women of all ages find that incredibly sexy.”
“Wait, you think Alex is attractive?” I don’t know why I bother asking. Queenie always talks about his hot dad status.
Hanna arches a brow. “That’s your takeaway?”
“But not more attractive than me, right?”
“No, Jake. I don’t find him more attractive than you. Besides, I’ve heard more than enough about Alex’s man business to know that I would not want to be in Violet’s shoes.” She motions in the general vicinity of her crotch.
I don’t need to ask what she’s talking about. Alex had several endorsements when he was a top player, including one for prophylactics, all before he started coaching. Once, when he hosted a poker night, his wife thought it would be funny to put the life-size cutout at the door to the garage, sort of as a welcome. I can’t unsee him holding up a box of extra-large condoms wearing only a pair of tighty-whities. I’ve heard enough semi-drunk discussions between the wives about his grower versus show-er status to believe there was no photoshopping in that ad.
“Right. Yeah. I vote we stop talking about Alex and his junk.”
“Are you jealous?”
“No.” Maybe a little. “Queenie does this whole swoon thing whenever he brings the kids around and talks about ovaries exploding.” Which is an off-putting thing to think about.
Hanna barks out a laugh. “You should see my group chat with the girls. It was full of ovaries exploding gifs during every event where the kids were present.” She puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry. It’ll be the same when it’s you holding little JJ.”
“Little JJ?”
“Jake Junior. That’s what I’m calling him until we settle on a name.”
“I thought that was going to be his name.” I’m kidding, but apparently she doesn’t take it that way.
“I can get on board with JJ. I’ll put it at the top of my list.”
We make a stop at one of Hanna’s favorite cafes and pick up lunch.
By the time we get back to her place, my phone has half a dozen new messages from Queenie asking how the ultrasound went and if we have any news. It’s followed by a range of gifs from nail biting, to the one with the elderly lady that reads it’s been eighty-four years.
Hanna checks her own phone. She has a single message from King, asking how she’s doing.
We spread our lunch out over the dining room table.
“Should we see if they’re both home and we can share the news?” I ask.
“Sure, that would be good.” Hanna tucks her hair behind her ears and then starts folding the napkins into triangles.
“Are you okay?”
She smiles. “A little nervous, that’s all.”
“About King?”
She nods and her bottom lip slides between her teeth.
“Is there anything in particular that you’re worried about?”
