Guess that was the only answer I was going to get.
“Don’t worry, guys,” Darby said. “While the media were ignoring me, I did some logistics. Mike said when we’re ready, to go down through the boiler room and out the basement door to the back lot. I’ll text him when it’s time and he’ll meet us in the basement.”
“Shouldn’t be any reporters back there,” Robbie agreed. “And I got us a ride so y’all don’t have to hoof it.”
“You guys are great,” Perry told them. “And I love your roommates, Robbie.”
Robbie sighed. “Same.”
Shaw shook his head. “Dude, just tell the guy you want to fuck his brains out and get on with it.”
“He’s not gay.”
Shaw leered at him. “Not yet.”
“Fuck off.”
“Come on,” I said. “We are fully taking advantage of Robbie’s crush to get the hell out of dodge.”
“He’s not my crush,” Robbie grumbled, but before we could take action, the announcements broke through, and a runner came to get us for the awards.
We weathered the cameras clicking and the weird pauses created by people filming what was going on.
“Why does anyone care?” Robbie whispered.
Standing next to Robbie, hair more purple today than I remembered from last week, Carol Renard chuckled. “They all want to know who almost beat their Olympic hopefuls.”
“Hardly almost,” I said.
“No, you guys made us work for it. That’s not nothing for a house team.”
I grinned at him, blew across my nails and polished them on my shirt, which got a laugh from him and a camera flash from somewhere in the crowd.
“God they never stop, do they?”
“Probably won’t until there’s a team again, but they’ll follow us, I think, and you guys can go home safely.”
“I hope so.” For Perry’s sake.
That’s when the tournament sponsor began naming off the winning team, and his wife handed out the prize mugs for Channing’s team, pens and notebooks for us, and keychains for the third place team from Thunder Bay.
To their credit, Channing’s guys accepted their rinky-dink mugs with huge smiles and handshakes, like they were gold medals. The rest of us took their lead, and a lot of pictures were taken.
As soon as we could slip away after that, Darby led the way towards the far door down to the sheets and from there to the service hallways, which were blessedly empty and quiet after the chaos of the rink and bar. We’d made it all the way to the boiler room, through, and out the back door before the calm was shattered by a familiar, unwelcome voice calling out our location.
Darby groaned. “I’m going to kill him. And uninvite him to Christmas, but first I’m gonna kill him.”
His cousin Andre pointed us out as a few reporters and internet vultures ran around the corner of the building to cut us off from our ride.
“Fucking hell,” Shaw muttered. “Back inside?”
“I’m not getting trapped in the boiler room by a bunch of nosy assholes,” Perry decided, and stepped out of the doorway to get to Robbie’s friend’s SUV.
“Perry Hastings! Is it true you goaded Jason Darren into a fight to take his spot on the Olympic team?” someone shout-asked.
“Mr. Hastings, did you really proposition Mr. Darren, prompting him to defend himself physically?”
“They could at least get my name right,” Perry grumbled.
