“Good.” I gave her a soft smile before I turned toward the front, staring out through the tempered glass and into the rink. Players from the opposition were already skating around the ice, stretching and running drills.
Logan elbowed me gently. “Does Declan not talk about his games to you?”
I hummed and thought about the best way to describe Dec’s emotions relating to hockey. “Yes and no. Dec tells me what he wants to talk about and that’s it. Typically what Coach has to say to them about games is something he keeps to himself.” I glanced toward the tunnel where the guys came out, but they hadn’t exited yet, so I continued. “When we first started dating, I thought he didn’t tell me that stuff because he didn’t want to bore me. I never really liked hockey much. I was more of a supercross guy.”
Logan cocked his head in surprise. “Really?”
Laughing, I nodded. “Yeah, I still like watching dirt bikes on occasion, but I don’t really have time anymore. At first I thought that was the issue. I didn’t want it to be like that, so I sat him down andtoldhim I wanted to know everything about his training and teammates and Coach, and I said that I wouldn’t be bored. This was his job, and I would make myself be interested in it for him.”
“What did he say?” Logan asked quietly, shifting slightly closer to me. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders, and he froze for a moment before relaxing again. Fuck what anyone thought. He was our partner now.
“That he didn’t keep it quiet because he thought I’d be bored. When he finishes training or a game, sometimes he doesn’t want to talk about it. He leaves it on the ice because when he comes home he wants to relax. I can understand that.”
“Me too.” He laid his head on my shoulder and sighed. “It’s like any job.”
“Exactly. Even if he enjoys doing this, sometimes we all want to forget about work when we come home.” I kissed his forehead, ignoring the wide-eyed look I got from Tuccini’s mother. Her son was bisexual, so I knew it wasn’t the man kissing another man thing. No, it was Jake North-Greenwood, Declan Greenwood-North’s husband, kissing another man. “I let him decide when he wants to talk about it, and if he does, I’m happy to listen. That’s the same with you, okay? If you want to have a conversation about something, I’m ready to listen. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay, too.”
“Thank you,” he murmured. I held him tighter as our team came out of the tunnel and onto the ice. They did a few circles around the rink, cheers for them spreading through the crowd. I cupped my hands around my mouth and hooted my excitement, and Logan laughed, mimicking me and doing the same.
Dec turned his head and raised his gloved hand in a wave, and I yanked Logan to his feet so Dec could see us properly. Wrapping one arm around Logan’s shoulder, I waved back at Dec, grinning when Logan did the same. The sound of the pregame buzzers going off had the crowd roaring.
“The atmosphere is amazing.” Logan laughed, his face lighting up as he stared around at the crowd.
“It always is. I think that’s what makes live games more fun than on TV. You get to experience everyone else”—I waved my hands around us—“the shouts, the jeers, everything.”
“What if they boo our team?” His eyebrows dipped seriously, as though he would be happy to fight anyone who dared to do such a thing to Dec.
I chuckled. “That’s part of sports life. I’m sure he’s used to it.” Patting Logan on the cheek, we retook our seats and watched the Blizzards run drills. Dec was fluid on the ice—godlike. “Dec’s mom said he could skate before he could walk.”
“Yeah?” Logan’s gaze followed Dec’s movements and his smile was wistful. “I wish I was good at a sport. I’ve never liked any of them much.”
“You’ve never watched anything?” I asked, curious. Now that we’d spent more time with him, I wanted him to open up to us. Tell us everything.
“Some football games, but my brother played in high school and college. He never went pro with it.”
“You haven’t mentioned much about your family,” I said carefully.
His mouth turned downward and he sighed. “They aren’t bad people.”
“They aren’t good people, either?”
Dec skated straight past our boards and blew us a kiss. I returned it, but Logan hesitated too long, and then Dec was gone again. He frowned and chewed on his bottom lip before he shook his head. “No, they’re not good people to me, but they don’t realize that.”
“What do you mean?” I glanced around us and leaned in closer. “We can talk about this later if you’d like.”
He smiled in appreciation. “That would probably be better.”
“Okay. Dec and I will take you out for dinner. Plenty of time then.”
The hockey players returned to the benches where their coaches were waiting for them. Coach was bent over to talk to the boys. A few minutes later a buzzer filled the rink and the crowd went wild in excitement. The players skated to their positions.
I pointed at Dec on the ice. “He’s on. He’s number eight.”
Logan leaned forward in his seat, excitement lighting up his face. The referee slid his way between the two centers and threw the puck in the air.
The game was on.
Hockey moved quick, with rough contact part of the game. I didn’t miss the way Logan winced every time a player had another against the glass, though, and a few times it was Dec being slammed into the boards.
