And then I ordered another double.
CHAPTER 12
PEYTON
“Are you ready to play against your old team?” Dad asked.
I shrugged, trying not to jostle my phone, which I was using to FaceTime him as I stood outside the hotel doors. “It’ll be kind of weird, not gonna lie.” I grimaced. “Hopefully the fans don’t boo me.”
“Eh, they know how it goes. It isn’t like you get to dictate trades.”
“Still. Sometimes they don’t like seeing us in rival jerseys.”
“I’m sure they’ll get over it.” Dad grinned. “Score on your old boys a few times. It’ll make you feel better.”
I laughed. There honestly wasn’t much that a few goals couldn’t alleviate. “We’ll see. And I had lunch with some of the guys this afternoon. It was good to see them, you know?”
“I bet. No hard feelings, then, huh?”
“Nah. They get it.” I chuckled. “Jantzen wanted to know if Coach Tabakov is really the hardass everyone says he is. I said, ‘No. He’d probably be all overyourass for dicking off, but for those of us who actually work…’”
My dad barked a laugh. “That sounds like you.”
I just snickered. We moved the conversation away from hockey, and he caught me up on everything happening back home. Mom was on a trip with some of her friends, so it was just him for the next week or so; no wonder he’d wanted to talk almost every night this week. We FaceTimed a lot anyway, but he got a little stir crazy sometimes when Mom wasn’t there. And although Mom hadn’t had a relapse in yearsandher sponsor was on the trip with her, I knew he still got nervous when she went away. So even when I was ready to faceplant into bed, I always had time for my night owl father.
I didn’t mind. Being away from my family had been my norm since major juniors, and even now, well into my professional career, it was hard sometimes. We’d been through hell as a family, and by some miracle (and thanks to a lot of therapy for everyone), we’d come out of it closer than ever. Despite the geographical distance, and I was glad we’d kept up that closeness after all this time.
It always did make me a little homesick, though. After we’d ended the call, I promised myself—same as I always did—that I’d head back to Omaha the minute the season was over. Maybe Dad and I would finally rebuild his shed like we’d been meaning to do for the past like five years.
Probably not,I thought with a chuckle on my way back into the hotel.We’ll put it off and put it off, and the day we decide to do it, it’ll rain. Same as every year.
God, I missed my family.
As I crossed the hotel lobby, I glanced toward the bar to see if any of my teammates were still hanging out. It was late, so I wasn’t surprised that they’d all cleared out.
Wait. No.
Not all of them.
I did a double take and realized I recognized the man hunched over a glass at the bar.
I checked my phone. It was almost 1:30. Breakfast started at 7:00. Buses would start leaving for the arena at 8:30.
I hesitated outside the bar. I wanted to go crash myself—I was exhausted—but my gut told me it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check on my teammate.
Pocketing my phone, I strolled into the bar and up to Avery. “Hey. You’re still awake?”
He turned to me, a few strands of dark hair falling over red, exhausted eyes. Then he shrugged. “Just having a nightcap.”
Was that a slur, or was I imagining things? Hell, tired as I was, I’d probably started slurring myself.
He patted the barstool next to him. “Have a seat. I’ll buy a round.”
I hesitated, scanning the bar. There was no one from the team in here. No players. No staff. I didn’t need or want a drink, but I also had a feeling I shouldn’t leave my captain alone right now.
I took the offered seat. “Just water for me. We have to be up in a few hours.”
“We do?” He took out his phone and fumbled with it, then peered at the screen. Sighing heavily, he dropped the device on the bar, letting it clatter loudly beside his glass. “Shit. Night got away from me.”
