The door swung open and Brett, Ryan, and Suraj walked in.
André sighed. “Ah, Bretty-boo, we were just talking about your sensitive ass.”
Brett looked at the powder in André’s hands. “Looks like your ass is more sensitive than mine. Your tender Quebecois skin not built for chafing?”
André barked a laugh. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s only a problem for men with . . . how do you say, large packages, yes?”
Brett dropped his bag then lunged and caught André in a headlock. Powder plumed into the air as he ran his knuckles over André’s skull.
Tyler laughed and turned back to unload his gear.
“Rough weekend, eh?” Fly looked down to pull up his hockey pants.
“You could say that.”
“Sorry to hear about your dad.”
Tyler nodded. “Are both your parents still alive?”
Fly shook his head. “No. Lost my mom last year. Dad went a few years before that. They were both in their eighties.”
It was easy to forget Fly was seven years older than him since he was still in such impressive physical shape. This would probably be his last season in the Elite league, and then he’d age up to Masters.
“And Emma?” Fly’s voice was low. Tyler frowned as he continued to rummage through his bag even though everything he needed was already out on the bench. “You know, when I met Jess, I was a mess. Partying all the time, smoking just enough weed to keep me stagnant and happy about it.”
Tyler snorted and stripped off his shirt. “Seems like it worked out for you.”
Fly looked up and drew a deep breath. “It did, but not because I sorted things out before we got together. If we had to be perfect before we met the right person, all of us would be alone, eh?” Fly sat on the bench and reached for his skates. “Half the fun is figuring it out together.”
* * *
Emma tried to focus on the marinated olives and spiced nuts, but by six o’clock her thoughts were tangled around each other. It had taken until three to get the camera dealt with, and now they were rushing to get their shots in the shifting light from the window.
At six-thirty, Emma looked at the display on the camera and hissed through her teeth. “We need to get a bit more texture on those nuts. They look dull.”
“I know.” Lindsey chewed on her lower lip. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Emma turned and slammed her hands on the counter. If she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t be able to catch Tyler before practice.
Lindsey pursed her lips and set her camera down. “Emma—”
“He wasn’t there.” Emma dropped her head, beginning to hyperventilate.
Vaughn put a hand on her back. “Who wasn’t there?”
“I went to Tyler’s apartment, and he wasn’t there, and I was going to go to the Ice Arena and talk with him before practice, but their practice starts at seven, and the almonds look likedehydrated rabbit turdsand—”
“Whoa, girl. Whoa.” Vaughn grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face them. Tears pooled in her eyes, and she reached up to flick them away. “You need to talk to Tyler?”
Emma bobbed her head, her face twisting. “His dad’s in the hospital, and I thought he was with someone, but he wasn’t, and then I found out he was working here only because I was here, and I don’t know why he left the hot tub in Canmore if he was doing all that to be near me, you know?”
Lindsey and Vaughn exchanged a glance.
Vaughn dropped his hands and rounded the counter, picked up her purse, and brought it to her. “No. I don’t know because you’re not making any sense, but I want you to take this and leave.”
“But—”
Vaughn snapped his fingers. “I said leave. Lindsey and I will figure out how to make people salivate over the almonds, okay?”
