That check had come from the side, and his knee had likely twisted as he fell. He’d put his money on an ACL tear.
Sean sat down next to him. “You played one hell of a game.”
Tyler’s jaw worked. They’d all played well, but it hadn’t been enough.
Sean dropped a hand on his shoulder. “More importantly, you took care of Brett.” He clapped him on the back, then turned to finish getting dressed.
“I care about her, Sean. This is different.”
Sean looked back over his shoulder. “Will Emma finally come back to Sunday Suppers?”
“I mean, that probably depends on the food.”
The corner of Sean’s mouth twitched as he turned and kept walking.
* * *
The arena had mostly emptied out by the time Tyler trudged up the stairs. Emma ran to him and launched into his arms as he dropped his bag and stick.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into his chest.“You saw Troy in the stands, right?”
Tyler nodded and ran his hand over her hair. “How could I have missed the air traffic control arms?”
Emma laughed, clutching his shirt, then pulled back. “One Place? We could drown our sorrows in terrible karaoke since you don’t drink?”
Tyler laughed and picked up his gear as Emma pulled him toward the doors. He was upset about the loss and worried about Brett, but it was something else entirely that made his pulse quicken as they stepped outside and started walking toward the parking lot.
He waited for Emma to notice the car idling against the curb. She glanced over, but it took her four more steps to slow. Her eyes narrowed, but she kept walking until Tyler pulled her to a stop.
“How about a do-over?”
Emma watched him, a slow smile starting at the corner of her lips. “What do you mean?”
Tyler ran a hand through his hair. “Well, our last trip to Canmore kind of sucked, especially for you. Now my season’s over, and we don’t have to meet with Gina until—”
“You know about that?”
Tyler laughed. “I do occasionally check my text messages.”
“So . . . you want me to get in this car.”
“I was hoping you’d want to.”
She took a step closer to the curb. “I don’t have any of my toiletries or a change of clothes.”
“You didn’t last time either.”
She laughed. “What about a swimsuit?”
Tyler balked. “Absolutely not. I’ve been dreaming about a do-over of that moment every night since we got back. You will not ruin this for me.”
Emma raised an eyebrow, then slowly sidestepped to the door. “Is there a console?”
“I already requested it be stowed away.”
“What about my car and your truck? They can’t be here over—”
“Brett’s taking my truck home—”
