“No, I mean…I don’t want to drive two hours every four days just to see your face.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “Okay. There’s seventeen flights a day on Porter. That’s my other idea. It’s a one-hour flight time.”
“Wes.” Jamie sits up suddenly. “I had a great time tonight. Except when I thought I was going to barf.”
“Were you nervous?” I ask, trying to understand.
“No! But I ate a lot of Mexican food. The first dive nearly broke me. But that’s not the point.” He shakes his gorgeous head. “I had a lot of fun, but it was just that. A wild night. And now I have more than five calls from that scout on my phone.”
“He’d be crazy not to call you tonight,” I point out. “He’s probably peeing himself wondering if any other teams are after you.”
Jamie makes an impatient noise. “Look, itisa fun story. My parents will be dining out on that for years. The sports blogs are going to eat it up. But I bet not one of them points out the unfair advantage I had tonight.”
“What advantage?”
“I know you guys so well. I watch every Toronto game. I personally know every player on every line. Sure—I went in cold. But Blake’s first wrister? It was like watching old video. I knew it was coming. That period was, like, optimized for my enjoyment. And it will never happen again.”
“Well, sure, not exactly like that, but—”
He holds up a hand to silence me. “Here’s the thing? I don’t want my whole life to turn on a cute story, or a sound bite. If Bill Braddock called me right now and offered me the promotion I was supposed to have, I’d take it in a hot second.”
Oh.
“I’m a good goalie, Wes. But I’m agreatcoach. I’m honestly kicking myself right now, because I should have pushed harder for that job. I should have made more noise. I blew it. That’s been hard to accept. But I won’t let a fun accident derail me from what I’m really supposed to be doing.”
I sit down heavily on the bed beside him. I spent the evening galloping off in one direction, and it’s not easy to rearrange my thinking. Again. “So you don’t want to go to Ottawa at all?”
Slowly he shakes his head. “We’d never see each other. If you were inprisonI’d be allowed more conjugal visits than we’d get if I move to Ottawa.”
I bark out a laugh. “Let’s not test that theory.”
“Wes.” Jamie beckons to me. And when I lean in, he wraps his arms around me. “I love you so hard. But don’t plan this for me, okay? I know it’s hard for you to understand, because you love your job so much. But I love mine, too.”
“I know,” I say quickly, wrapping my arms around his sturdy body. “I know you do. You were just soamazingtonight. I can’t even handle it. I’ve never had more fun. Ever.”
“Is that right?” Jamie thrusts a knee between my two legs and grabs my ass suggestively. “We have all kinds of fun,though. Half the time you can’t even remember your own name afterwards.”
“True.” His skin smells like locker room soap, and I want more. Burrowing closer, I kiss his neck. “Fine. I won’t try to plan your life. But does that mean I have to call off the goon squad I hired to teach Bill Braddock a lesson?”
“Yeah.” He sighs. “Save the violence for the rink. This is a problem I have to solve by myself.”
“You know I’d do anything for you. Even drive to Bellewood to do you.”
Jamie snorts. “Belleville.”
“Yeah. There, too.”
He laughs and then kisses me.
7
Jamie
When I step out onto the ice on Saturday morning, my head is full of plans for the Niagara game. We’ve got an hour for morning skate, followed by another hour for watching film. Then I’ll have to let my guys take some time off for lunch, because the faceoff is at four.
But just as I skate my first few strides forward, every kid on the team lets out a shout and then rushes me. Four seconds later I’m swarmed by a pack of rowdy, laughing sixteen to twenty-one year olds. They actually hoist me into the air, all talking at once.
“Oh my God, that save on Wesley!”
