Seconds left. No time to exhale. The Flames took to the counterattack as if their lives depended on it, puck rattling past Theo before he could intercept. A sure goal. I leaned forward, fingers tightening near the edge of my seat, heart hammering. Hunter moved, his pads forming a wall. His glove snapped the puck away in a move that brought everyone to their feet with noise that drowned out the final buzzer. Surge players jumped around, grabbing each other in a tangle of jerseys and sticks.
I stayed on my feet, my eyes on Theo as he drifted on the edge of celebration, chest heaving as he watched the others come down on Hunter. He’d hung back through the physical scraps too, now that I thought about it.
“Good game.” I caught him leaving the locker room, freshly showered and in a plain t-shirt and gray sweatpants.
He sighed and carried on walking. “Few questionable calls from that ref, but we did okay.”
“It was brutal out there,” I said. My sneakers squeaked on the floor as I hurried to fall in step beside him. “Everyone’s banged up.”
“It’s hockey. It happens.”
“No, I mean everyone’s banged up… except you.” It didn’t take more than a touch to his arm to get him to stop walking. But he still wouldn’t look at me.
Theo looked up and down the hallway, almost like he was hoping a late straggler would save him with an excuse to duck out on me again. There was no straggler, and once he realized no help was coming, he let go of the gym bag he’d been hugging, and stuck his hands in his pockets.
“I have a thing to get to, so—”
“This won’t take long,” I assured him. “I just wanna know why you keep avoiding me, when it’s clear there’s something up with you.”
“Reese…”
“Not that I give a shit.” His eyebrows shot up, and I think I liked it. Liked that I had him on his toes. That little spark in his otherwise brown eyes motivated me even more. That, and the promise of a promotion that nobody knew about yet. “You’re a grown man, Bouchard. I don’t care what you do. But I care very much when what you do fucks with my job. My ass is on the line here.”
His surprise dissolved quickly, and was replaced by a half-grin I was familiar with. It was the one he deployed when he needed a foolproof strategy to get his way.
And okay, maybe it wasn’t without merit. Especially with his hair still damp and droplets of water clinging to his beard. Probably dried off in a hurry to get out of here before I—
“Don’t… don’t give me that look.” I shook my head abruptly, apropos of nothing. “This is serious.”
He chuckled under his breath, and held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I’m not giving you any look. I’m just standing here. Standing here and telling you the same thing I told you back at the hotel in Buffalo. You’re imagining things. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” I said, folding my arms in a huff. “Prove it.”
“What?”
“Prove you’re fine. Let me examine you.” I stood my ground, only feeling a smidgeon of discomfort after experiencing the full weight of that waning French accent.
He gave it a second, let my challenge dangle there while he considered his next move. But then he hiked his gym bag higher on his shoulder, and started walking again.
“No can do, Hopper. Like I said, I have a thing to get to.”
If I were the type, I would’ve thrown something or maybe kicked the wall as he walked off. But I wasn’t, so I just stood there and marinated in my frustration the way a sensible grown up would.
One thing was sure, though… I wasn’t gonna let a D-man’s stubborn streak sabotage my promotion.
3
Theo
“I’m pretty sure we can report this to the PA,” Hunter muttered.
It only took him an hour and our fourth water break to say what I’d been feeling since we’d finished the first set of drills.
“I doubt the Players’ Association cares.” Coach’s whistle cut through my bones. We sighed and tossed our water bottles before skating onto the ice.
My legs burned with every push. My shoulder was a fucking bonfire.
“I don’t know, man,” Hunter said, waffling through stretches on his line. “An extended practice straight out of a five-hour flight? That’s torture.”
