“What the fuck is this?” He points at my face when we break apart. “Since when do you smile?”
“You don’t want to know,” Bouchard says.
I playfully hit him with my shoulder, knocking him off balance. He stumbles, laughing, and almost runs into a nearby figure skater, who looks at him with displeasure.
Tavish eyes the two of us. “Not even two weeks away, and you’re sharing private jokes. Where’s your sense of loyalty?”
“Oh, he’s loyal,” Bouchard says, still laughing.
I give him a hard stare. “You are one more wisecrack away fromme playing the alternate captain card and asking Coach to play Olsen in net at tomorrow’s opening game.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Bouchard challenges.
“You’re playing Slovakia tomorrow, right?” Tavish asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Should be an easy game.”
“You really only have to watch out for Mrazek,” Tavish says. “The rest of their players are mid at best.”
“When are we gonna see you on the ice?” Bouchard asks him.
Tavish grins. “If I have it my way, not until the finals.”
“It does seem like that’s what they’re gunning for,” I say. “A Canada versus USA gold medal game.”
Tavish pushes my shoulder. “That’s assuming your boy over there…” he pauses and nods his chin at Connor, “makes it through the gauntlet.”
“Great,” I grunt. “So your team is after him too.”
“Dude. Everyone’s after him,” Tavish says like this should be obvious.
“Told you,” Bouchard says, his tone singsong.
“These next two weeks,” Tavish says, “are gonna be like the Stanley Cup playoffs, but worse as far as dirty play goes.”
Bouchard leans forward and grins at him. “We’re not too worried,” he says. “Kennedy over there has unlocked a new evolution of Gavin.”
“What? Like he’s some angry Pokémon?”
“The opposite actually,” Bouchard says.
I give him another warning glare.
“Oh no,” Tavish says. “Don’t tell me Marshal’s turned his back on us and become that pretty boy’s guard dog.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Bouchard says.
“Hey.” I stop them before this goes any further. “Didn’t all three of us promise to bring our A games to this?” I jab Tavish in the chest. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who told us not to take it easy on you.”
“True,” he says, grinning. “I can’t wait to battle you on the ice.Just make sure when we return to the regular season, you’ll be back to watching my back and flattening Kennedy’s.”
“Bold of you to assume he’s not flattening it out now,” Bouchard says under his breath.
I ignore him, choosing instead to slap Tavish a high five as I loudly say, “Deal.”
Going back to watching his back will be easy. It’s the other half of that deal I know I won’t be able to honor. I’m worried about what that’s going to mean for the both of us.
TWELVE
