I just shrug as he peeks at me from under the crook of his elbow. “Speaking of the missus, how’s she doing?”
“Conner brought home the flu a while ago and it’s been clinging to Callie. But I think she’s on the mend, finally. Oh, which reminds me, she wanted me to invite you over for dinner. Friday night?” Devin says. “She’s an incredible cook and she loves welcoming new teammates. She’s says it’s her duty as the captain’s wife, but honestly she just likes hosting dinner parties. You won’t regret giving up a Friday night of debauchery with the guys to eat her food. I promise. Even if it does mean you have to do it sitting next to my kid.”
I laugh. “I don’t mind kids at all. In fact we usually get along great. And as for the night of debauchery, all you doofuses are married and lame now and I’ve got no interest in running around bars with the rookies like their chaperone.”
Devin moves his arm and looks over at me. “So you’ll come to dinner?”
“Yep.” I pause as I remember my volunteer shift at Daphne’s House. “But I have a thing Friday. Any chance we can do the following Friday instead?”
“Yeah that should work.” He yawns—loudly.
I pull my ass out of the chair I’ve been parked in for the better part of two hours to let him grab the nap he desperately wants. I played in Seattle for almost four years and I have a lot of friends in town I could go see. “I’m going to head out.”
“Like out? Out of the hotel?”
“Yeah. Seattle has got way better food than the buffet the hotel will be serving us later,” I explain and walk toward the door. There’s always a dedicated room for meals, supplied by the hotel, during road trips but there’s no rule that says we can’t go out.
Devin sits up and looks at me with concerned eyes. “Listen…I know you’re still friends with a lot of guys on the Winterhawks, but Coach hates when his guys are out with other players. He used to even give me grief about hanging out with Jordan and Luc after games when they were on other teams.”
“Oh,” I reply flatly and try not to frown. “That seems excessive.”
Devin looks apologetic. “I know. But it is what it is. I’m not saying you can’t hang out with Deveau or whoever, but I’d wait until the next trip. I wouldn’t purposely rock the boat right now, you know?”
I lean my back against the closed door and fold my arms across my chest and decide to deal with the elephant in the room directly. “My existence rocks his boat enough, eh?”
Devin’s remorseful expression magnifies. “He’s butt hurt. It’ll pass. Besides I don’t know one player who isn’t happy to have you with us, dude.”
I try not to frown as I inhale deeply and let it out long and slow. I fucking hate feeling like I have something to prove. I’ve earned my way into this league and I did it the hard way.
“You’re a great addition to the team, Rue, no matter how you got here,” Devin reminds me like the good captain he is. I can imagine what it was like for Jordan growing up with Devin in his corner. Sure, they love to press each other’s buttons but the fact is, they are each other’s biggest fans. I fought my way through hockey—and life—as a kid with no one having my back. It sucked.
“Thanks, man.” I nod. “Tell Callie I’m in for dinner. And to make a lot of food because I eat like ten men.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, she’s used to that.”
The door to his hotel room swishes closed behind me and I make my way back to my room. My cell rings from the pocket of my sweats. I pull it out but hesitate on answering because I don’t recognize the number.
I decide to do it anyway, in case it’s Kristi about the loft apartment I want so badly.
“Alex?”
“Yes?” I don’t recognize the voice.
“This is Brie Bennett from Daphne’s House. Do you have a moment?”
“Yes,” I reply and instantly worry she’s calling because she’s changed her mind about letting me volunteer.
“I just wanted to confirm that you’ll be coming in on Friday?” She sounds different. Unsure. She’s been nothing but a ball of condescending confidence since I met her so this is odd.
“Yep. Do you make personal confirmation calls to all your volunteers before every shift?” I ask, knowing I’m being a little bit snarky. But the way she thought that the only reason I would volunteer was if it’d been court ordered has been really eating at me.
“No. Just you…because I also wanted to ask you if you were serious about donating some Barons tickets for our fund-raiser that’s a week from Saturday,” she says, her voice still abnormally timid.
This is a woman not used to asking for things. I have that figured out now after a little Googling. So you bet your ass I’m going to make her beg for it. Sure I didn’t make the best first impression but the level of shade she threw at me the first two times we met seemed excessive. And now that I’ve done a little research on Brie Bennett I’d bet my paycheck she’d have been less of an ice queen if I were a billionaire or a prince, since she’s hung out with both, according to Page Six.
“I mean…maybe.” I can hear her sharp intake of breath at my nonanswer, and it makes me smile as I pull my key card out and slip it into my door. “Do you want the tickets? It’s just hockey.”
“Yes. I absolutely do,” she says swiftly. “I personally don’t know much about hockey but I’ve been told by more than a few people it would be a great addition to our prizes.”
