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“Yeah, why?
“You seem quiet.”
“Oops. Sorry. I think it’s being back in Minnesota. Always brings back weird memories.”
She responded with a frowning face.
I looked at the clock. “Game time. I gotta head to the rink.”
“Good luck tonight!”she said.“We could chat after the game, maybe?”
“I’m meeting up with Johnny after the game, so we’ll see.”
This time, she was the one who didn’t respond.
Because we both know what we’re doing is wrong.
* * *
After the game, I took five of the boys—Connor, Brock, Dakota, Tank, and Cale—out to meet up with Johnny. If it were up to me, I would’ve gone solo—but last time he was in Vegas, Johnny got some of the boys’ numbers and invited them out.
We packed into a minivan cab and headed for downtown Minneapolis. The van rolled to a stop outside me and Johnny’s old stomping grounds.
“Look! There he is. Rippin’ a dart in the freezing rain, the crazy fucker.” Tank laughed. “Looks like he’s already three sheets to the wind, too.”
Johnny stood outside the bar, smoking a cigarette in a t-shirt, oblivious to the dreary Minnesota weather. He saw us climbing out of the taxi van and yelled. “Hey! Look who it is! The hottest fucking team in hockey, eh boys?!”
“Don’t blow our cover, Johnny,” Brock joked.
“Yeah, I’m not signing autographs tonight,” Connor added.
Johnny greeted the boys with hand shakes and bro hugs. We were the last to greet. “Big fella!” He launched at me and wrapped his arms around me for a tight bear hug. “What thehell, man! You look amazing out there!”
I chuckled. “Thanks, fella.”
“Seriously, are you on a new diet or something? What’s going on? This whole road trip, you’re playing like you’re twenty-seven instead of thirty-seven!”
I wasn’t just playing hockey like I was ten years younger. The way I was acting, sneaking around with Isabelle behind everyone’s back?
“I feel like it, too,” I murmured.
“Yeah? Then why do you look so goddamn dour?!”
It was my guilty conscience. Not that I could tell him that.
Johnny pinched my cheek. “Liven up, bud! You’re going to earn another big contract because of this weekalone!”
The boys laughed and cheered for me.“Hell yeah, he is!”
Johnny stamped out his cigarette and tossed it. “C’mon, boys. Let’s head in.”
The doorman let us through, except for Cale, who he held back for an ID check.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Johnny said, and backhanded my chest. “Get that kid a fake already, will ya?”
After the doorman marked two giant X’s on Cale’s hands with the Sharpie of shame, we went inside and lined up at the bar.
Johnny stood next to me. “So what’s the secret to your success, big fella?” He leaned in and whispered. “Are you juicin’?”
