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“Whatisyour favorite movie?”
“Fast and the Furious,” I reply.
Lilly’s face scrunches up. “I stick with my original question then… most influential person and why?”
“That’s an easy one. Cannon West.”
“Your coach?” Lilly asks, disbelief in her tone.
“There were others I would have said were more influential prior to him starting as our coach this year, but he took a huge chance on me. I probably should’ve been moved down to the second line when Coen came back and the team looked for a replacement for Gage who had actual experience at right wing. But he felt I could change positions and gave me the chance to prove it. I’ve worked hard for all I’ve ever earned, but he gave me the biggest break.”
“I like that answer,” Lilly murmurs. “Your turn now.”
“If you could visit any place in the world, where would you go?” I ask.
“Japan,” she replies, and that’s probably the last place I would have thought. I was assuming somewhere like Paris or Rome. Lilly seems like a closeted romantic dreamer and those cities were made for people like that. “The culture is so unique, the architecture is beyond beautiful and well… sushi.”
Laughing, I squeeze her. “Duly noted you like sushi. I’ll take you out for some on our next date.”
“Again with the assumptions,” she teases.
“Your turn to ask me another question,” I prompt by giving her a tiny poke in the ribs. It’s ineffectual with the padding of her coat.
“Hmm,” she murmurs, head tipping back as we coast under the Tenth Street Bridge. Then her head pops up. “Oh, I know… do you have any hobbies, and the reason I ask is that I’m betting you don’t. I figure a professional player is all about hockey and I know you spend all your free time helping others.”
“Smart-ass,” I reply, my gaze drifting out to the Pittsburgh skyline lit up like a billion candles. “Actually, I have two hobbies that I spend quite a bit of time doing.”
Lilly jerks in my arms, turning her body more toward me, and my eyes swing to her. “You’re kidding? How could you possibly be more interesting than you already are? What do you do? Needlepoint? Astronomy?”
“You’re funny.” And I truly mean that. I love her sense of humor. “I play the guitar and I like to draw.”
Lilly’s mouth sags open. “You play guitar?”
“Since I was a kid. I play at night for at least thirty minutes or so before I go to bed. I bring it with me on away games. It helps me relax.”
“Do you sing?”
“Passably,” I reply, although I’ve been told I’m good. I’ll let her figure that out on her own.
“Wow.” Lilly shakes her head as if this is the most shocking news she’s ever heard. “And you draw?”
“I thought I wanted to be an artist when I was growing up, but yeah… I draw.”
“What kinds of things?”
“People, animals, landscapes. I don’t practice as much as I used to. A lot of times it’s just to sort of meditate. I’ll draw digitally on my iPad, let my mind go, see what comes out of my head.”
“Overachiever,” Lilly accuses.
“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” I point out. “You who carries the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“I’d rather be able to draw and play guitar,” she quips.
“I can teach you guitar. Drawing, probably not unless you have some talent.”
“I can barely read my own writing,” she mutters.
“Guitar it is,” I exclaim with a slap on my knee.
