“You starting?” he wants to know.
I nod tersely. “The two home games, probably.”
“Not the away one?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m assuming it’ll depend on how the two home ones go.” I try not to sound too annoyed. These questions are his job, not just as my brother but as the captain of the team that drafted me.
“It’s good they’ve gone back to starting you.” I already know this. “The more ice time you get with them, the closer you are to getting ice time with us.”
“Only if it goes well,” I remind him as we stop in front of a place and he reaches for the door. As soon as I step inside I’m greeted by the smell of bacon. Thank Christ. “And it’s been going okay.”
Levi seems to absorb that information and the look on my face. As the hostess leads us to a table near the window he says, “Is this one of those situations where you hold yourself to a higher standard than you should?”
I shrug out of my coat. “No. I’m average at best right now. Why do you think I’m not already in Eddie’s spot?”
Okay, there was no hiding my annoyance in that. Levi’s dark brown eyes soften, and that makes me more annoyed. He must see that too, because as we sit across from each other he clears his throat and sets his expression into something more neutral. “You think it has something to do with the accident?”
“Nope,” I say firmly as my phone buzzes and I reach to dig it out of my coat pocket. Man, I hope it’s Dixie. “I think I need to adjust to the level of play. It’s different than college. Here, these guys are all trying to prove something every game, so they can get moved up to their NHL team. It’s fine. I just have to work harder, and I am.”
“Okay.” Levi rubs his jaw as the waitress says hello and asks us if we want coffee. “Black coffee and a large orange juice, please.”
I look up at her and smile. “Do you guys have lattes? I would kill for a vanilla latte.”
“We don’t. But we can make a mocha with the hot chocolate and coffee.”
“Then a large one of those and also a large apple juice,” I say and glance at my phone, disappointed it’s only a text message from Jasper. The waitress scribbles down the order and trots off. “Jasper wants me to meet him for breakfast.”
“Invite him here,” Levi says and gives me the address. I text Jasper back. “You know, if the accident is still bothering you the team has access to a—”
“If you say ‘shrink’ I will pour my mocha over your head when she brings it. Whipped cream and all,” I warn him seriously.
Levi looks a little stunned but recovers. “I was going to say sports psychologist.”
“Same difference,” I return and frown. “I’m not a head case. I’m fine. This doesn’t have to become a thing. It happened. It’s over. I’m fine. Lots of players get cut by a skate and keep playing just as well as they did before. My slump is not skate related.”
“You know this because…?”
“I know this because I researched the fuck out of this injury when it happened.” I’m so over this conversation. “And seven players in the last twenty years have been severely cut by a skate blade during a game. Two of those were neck cuts, one of those got the jugular like me. And that goalie, Casey O’Rourdan, played for two seasons after the injury.”
Casey O’Rourdan had started out as my inspiration, but now he haunts me. He really did recover immediately, like it was nothing, and even used to joke about it with the press. I’m desperately and completely irrationally jealous of him now. But of course I leave that part out.
Levi seems to think about this, or what to say to me next, and the waitress comes back over with our drinks and asks for our orders. Levi orders an egg white omelet with spinach, turkey sausage and whole wheat toast. I get a three-cheese omelet, a double order of bacon and an English muffin. Then I explain to her that we have a friend coming and order Jasper a coffee, a cheese omelet and pork sausage with sourdough.
When she’s gone Levi is staring at me with an open mouth. “How the fuck do you play a hockey game filled with grease and fat?”
“Pretty well, actually.” I shrug. “Now can we talk about something other than hockey? Like how has Tessa not left you yet?”
He laughs sarcastically. I take a sip of my apple juice and then realize I’m way more dehydrated from last night than I thought and promptly chug the rest. Dixie gave me quite the workout, and not just physically. That girl got under my skin.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I’m just happy for you.” I’m not lying. I am happy for him, but I’m smiling over Dixie. I reach for my mocha and a spoon and scoop up the whipped cream and stick a heaping spoonful of it into my mouth. I swallow it down. “Seriously, though, I mean, you just never wanted to do the crazy, wild, no-strings sex thing?”
“It was never appealing,” he replies and shrugs his broad shoulders. I love bugging Levi about being an inch taller than him, but I try to ignore the fact he’s a little bit broader. “I mean, it’s not like I was a monk. I had a few girlfriends and everything. I still wanted to fuck, just not with people I didn’t like…or even know.”
I nod and play with my spoon in my mocha. “I loved random drunken hookups in college. Going to the bar with the guys, finding some hot girl to flirt with and dance with and then…”
Levi laughs. “Yeah, and that’s not abnormal. But why are you using past tense?”
