I order that and another beer for me, then turn back to her. “So do you want to lecture me about rape culture in hockey?”
“Not really.” Her lips pinch together briefly. “I know it exists, but it’s not a fun topic.”
“True. Before we change the subject, though, just know that I hate it, too.”
She eyes me. “Okay. And also, know that I really am a hockey fan. I love the sport.”
“Me, too.”
We share a brief bonding moment and then our drinks arrive.
We pick them up and turn away from the bar. “I really am a fan of yours,” I tell her. Those thick-soled boots make her a little taller but she’s pretty small. I’m only six-one—“only,” I know, average height of NHL players is six-one, but a lot of players are bigger than that—and she’s about ten inches shorter than me.
“You weren’t just flattering me?”
“I’ll flatter you all night long.”
Her long eyelashes flutter.
“But not in an insincere way,” I hasten to add. “In a genuine way. Like, you’re a great singer. I like how your music has actual instruments…”
She smiles.
“And there’s real emotion in your voice. I think it shows your personality. And you’re really, really beautiful.”
Her chin dips and her lashes lower. Cute. But she must get compliments all the time.
“Your voice is amazing. I love that song, ‘You’re My World.’”
“Yeah? Thanks.”
“And ‘Time for Scars.’ That’s great, too. Different. I like the punk influence.”
“Yeah.” She beams.
“All your music is great.”
She looks genuinely pleased. “Thank you.”
“Tell me how you got into performing.”
She sips her drink. “I loved music my whole life. I loved Rory Wright. She was my idol as a kid, she’s amazing. I started writing songs when I was a kid, and my parents thought I was pretty good so they made me take a bunch of music lessons—piano, guitar, composition. When I was about fifteen I started releasing songs on SoundCloud. One of my songs caught the attention of Realm Records—they’re an imprint of Sony—and I signed a contract with them and released an album.” She wrinkles her nose. “It didn’t do all that great.”
“How can that be?”
She chuckles. “I know, right? I should have been a massive success right out of the gate.”
“Definitely.”
“Well, it doesn’t always work like that.” Her mouth twists in a way that looks pained. “I took some time away to work on new songs and do some voice coaching. My second album did much better.”
“That must have been hard.”
She gives a tiny nod. “It was.” She pauses as if unsure whether to go on. “I almost quit.”
I watch her expressive face and nod. “I get that.”
“Were there times you wanted to quit hockey?”
