“I’ll call. I promise,” I say.
“I’ve got your back. Always.”
“I know. And I’ve got yours,” I reply, even though he doesn’t need me. Sebastian has always been able to handle himself on and off the ice. I hang up and quickly silence my phone and shove it in a drawer.
My boss, Mr. Archer—or Conrad, as he likes to insist I call him—nods at me as I stand up. “Are we in a latte or an espresso mood today?”
“Latte. Hazelnut. Thank you, Stephanie.” He gives me a genuine smile and walks into his office. I grab the corporate credit card out of the locked drawer in my desk and head for the elevators like I do every morning when he gets in. It’s been our routine since Seattle.
I appreciate Sebastian’s concern and his constant attention, but I really am doing fine. I like my life here—and I like the direction things seem to be going with Avery. I know it’s potentially dangerous because, well, anytime you start to give your heart to someone it’s dangerous, but I think I was giving him my heart long before the sex happened.
Chapter 20
Avery
The plane was painfully silent. We dropped both games, the one in Vancouver and the one two days later in Calgary. With losing in the shoot-out to Seattle, that meant we only got one point out of the potential six on this road trip and we’ve dropped in the overall standings. No one was pleased. I didn’t know if we could come back. I knew how to battle—I’d done it before with the Winterhawks and so had Alex. But this team, I don’t know if they have it in them. Or if I know how to get it out of them. Right now all I am sure of is that we are all exhausted and frustrated.
Coach must feel the same way, because when the plane lands, he stands and blocks the exit before we can get off and clears his throat.
“I want you to go home and burn this off. Go out with your buddies. Play with your kids. Play with your dog. Hell, play with your wife or girlfriend. Or both.” There are some snickers at that, and the coach gives us a quick smirk. “Do whatever it takes to get your heads in a better place. Then sleep in. Practice tomorrow at three p.m. And when you show up, I want the exhaustion and the grumbling gone. If you’re not careful, your attitudes will knock you straight to the bottom of the league before another team does.”
We all file out of the plane and make our way across the tarmac toward the private parking lot. People are starting to talk again. I hear Larue making plans to go out with Nikolai and Drew. Ty falls in step beside me.
“Maddie’s meeting me at my place,” he says.
“Yeah. So?”
“So Stephanie will be home alone. Thought you might want to know.” Ty is trying to sound casual.
“She’s not home alone,” I reply. “Because she’s going to be at my place.”
“So you’ve made plans?”
“Yeah, Dad, I asked her to come over. Texted her when we boarded and she said she’d be there,” I inform him, and he smiles guiltily at me. “Now mind your own fucking business. You’re a shitty Cupid.”
Ty chuckles. Larue wanders over. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” I blow it off, not wanting Alex in on any conversation about Steph. I’m still a little choked he mentioned that he wanted to bang her back in Seattle.
“Don’t suppose either of you two want to join us for a drink? Coach’s orders and all,” he asks as I stop beside my car and Ty wanders over to the passenger door.
“Nope,” Ty replies for both of us. “We’re going home to play with our girlfriends. Coach’s orders and all.”
“Pussies,” Larue snarks.
“Exactly,” Ty replies with a wink.
Alex lets out a booming laugh and waves as he heads off to hitch a lift with Furry. The fucker never drives himself anywhere if he can help it. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s so cheap and doesn’t want to waste his gas, or because he’s lonely and likes the constant company, or because he knows what a shitty driver he is. Maybe it’s all three.
As we drive toward Coronado, Ty talks about the losses and how hard it’s been already this season.
“This is going to be a grind,” Ty mutters as he watches the barren scenery on the side of the freeway fly by.
“I’ll make sure we turn it around. I’ve led Seattle through some rough patches,” I remind him.
“Yeah. But you didn’t have Echolls,” he replies, and rubs his forehead. “You know he’s not going to play nice all of a sudden. His attitude might start to get contagious. Like the fucking plague.”
I nod begrudgingly. “Yeah. I’ll get him to play nice.”
