“You are?” I ask. I look at Thea.
“Me too,” she says.
“I didn’t realize it was open, or is Josh just getting you in?” I ask.
“Josh is working tonight,” she says. “He won’t be there.”
“He’s missing the scrimmage?” I frown.
She laughs. “Yeah. He’ll be saving lives and shit.”
Right. Josh is a firefighter and paramedic. That’s more important than hockey any day of the week. It still hasn’t fully sunk in for me that all these guys, and girls, have other jobs. Hockey is not their number one priority. Hell, for most of them it’s not even number two or three. Beckett and Lawson might be the only ones who put hockey up there with their jobs, businesses they own. But they’re also single and don’t have kids or big families in town to take up time and energy.
“Of course,” I say about Josh. “We’ll miss him.”
And it won’t be as effective a scrimmage without the entire team, but I leave that part out because Thea, and probably Josh, don’t care about that.
“See you later,” she says as they step out of the building and I head inside.
“Yeah, later. Bye, Ethan,” I add. “Keep up the hard work.”
“Of course!”
Yeah, of course. What choice does he have? We either work our knees and get better or…we deal with not being able to do all the things we’ve always dreamed of doing.
Unless, of course, those dreams change.
CHAPTER 20
ALEX
Two hours later,I get a text from Nora that says,Wow, an orgasm and a latte? This fake dating thing is awesome.
Four hours later, I get a text from my sister that says,Plus eighty-eight ticket sales!
Six hours later, I get another text from Astrid that says,Plus one hundred and four ticket sales! And there is a bag of avocados here for you??
That’s followed by a text from Nora that is just a series of emoji faces with party hats on their heads, blowing party horns.
I just smile. And shake my head.
They’re sending me avocados.
Seven hours later, Astrid sends,Holy crap! Three hundred new season tickets sold! You two are amazing!
Seven hours and fifteen minutes later, a major sports podcaster texts,Hey man! It’s been a while! Can we set something up? I’d love to talk about what you’re doing in Louisiana.
Seven hours and seventeen minutes later, Sutton texts,Hey, that big podcast guy Greg Whatever-His-Name-Is said he’s going to text you when I reached out about the Revelers!
Seven and a half hours later Declan O’Grady texts,Sounds like things are going well. Tell your sister to pick up my calls and stop only texting like we’re in high school.
I only answer Greg Simon, the podcaster.
I don’t think the others need an answer. Except maybe Declan. But yikes, I’m not getting in the middle of those two. Anything I would text Nora would end up dirty and distracting, and I’m trying not to show up at her office, drag her into the storeroom that is considerably less crowded than her office, and replay last night.
And ten hours and forty-two minutes later, I’m standing just off the ice, frustrated, confused, amazed, and…frustrated listening to Nora address the crowd who showed up for the first scrimmage between the Revelers and the Rascals.
My head has been spinning, and my chest has been tight with this exasperation for an hour.
