He didn't look up immediately.
I set my bag on its hook and hung my coat in the closet.
"How was the ice?" he asked, without looking away from the screen.
"Clean."
"That's a good answer."
"Yes."
I moved to the kitchen. I'd eaten my game-day meal for breakfast, and I found frozen Chinese dumplings to heat in the air fryer. Sully had a coffee mug, the largest one I owned, on the end table beside him.
"There's coffee," he called. "Made it about twenty minutes ago. Should still be decent."
"Thank you."
The condo ran quietly around us, with the air fryer cycling and the refrigerator humming. I entered the living room. Sully moved his feet without being asked, pulling them off the table and tucking one leg under him. I sat beside him.
The TV was running a Premier League match.
"What is this?"
"I found your streaming list. It recommended this as what to watch next. I've been watching it for about forty minutes. I don't entirely understand the rules, but it looks a little like hockey on grass."
"What do you like about it?" I asked.
"The pace. It just keeps going and doesn't stop." He paused. "Also, most of them are hot to look at. You know, athletes."
I looked at him.
"I do know," I said.
While sharing my dumplings with Sully, we watched the next match. The leisure time swallowed up most of my afternoon.
I changed into my arena suit. When I returned to the living room, Sully looked up at me.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing." He turned his attention back to the TV. "You look good, that's all, but I guess you always look that way."
I picked up my keys and checked my pockets. I had my phone, wallet, and keys, the necessities.
"Are you watching the game on TV? I could swing a last-minute ticket if you're interested."
"Inertia's a beast," he said. "Let's say, next season I plan ahead and bring Nora so she can chat me up when things get slow."
I crossed to the couch and stopped beside Sully. He tilted his head up. I put my hand along his jaw and kissed him. He kissed back, momentarily looking away from the TV.
When I pulled back, he was smiling.
"Go," he said.
I pulled out my phone and opened Spotify. Ten seconds of the chorus, perfectly timed, and cut before the second line.
The lift was immediate. It always was.
I picked up my bag and walked out.
