“Just a reminder, you might want to practice before the next competition,” he gets out through gasps of laughter.
I slip the apron over my head, letting it hang instead of trying to tie it around my pads. I look down. “Is it just me, or do I look damn good as a yeti?”
The men laugh again, some catcalling as I put my hands on my hips, jutting one to the side in my best impression of a runway model.
“Get it, Kane!” Lefevre hollers.
“Show him the best part,” Li encourages Larsen.
“Oh, you’re right!” Larsen exclaims, scrambling to pull off his gear so he can dig through his bag. With a flair of drama that only Larsen can pull off, he unfurls another apron, this one with a male yeti in Yeti swim trunks. “For Coach Blake.”
The boys are at it again, laughing and causing a scene.
“I can’t wait for you to give it to her,” I say, one eyebrow raised.
Larsen shakes his head as he sits down to start working on his skates. “Nope. I’m just going to sneak it into her office. She’ll never know it was me.”
I snort. “She’ll know it was from you the second she opens it.”
Larsen glances from me to the apron and back before nodding once. “Worth it.”
I can imagine Finley’s face. She’ll pretend to be annoyed, but there will be a little crinkle at the corner of her eye that means she secretly finds it hilarious.
I’m going to miss that crinkle when this competition is over. It’s been nice having a friend I can spend time with who gets it… getsme. She wants to watch film. Wants to talk hockey. Is on the road with me rather than complaining I can’t join some activity or another.
But I also know she thinks it’s crossing a line to be friends with her players—and maybe it is. This competition gives us a team-mandated reason to spend time together, but once that’s done… I know she’s going to put a stop to it.
Even if she doesn’t want to.
Finley lives by a rigid moral code, and I know she won’t break it. Asking her to would only make it worse. And I care about her way too much to ever ask that of her.
“Team dinner at my place tonight!” J.D. yells as the first wave of guys start to leave the locker room. “Gloria will be pissed if she cooks all this food and no one is there to eat it.”
“You going to be able to make it tonight, Kane?” J.D. asks. “Gloria mentioned you haven’t made it to one of our dinners yet, and she’d really like to meet you.”
Luckily, having a wife or girlfriend committed to the team is not a prerequisite for being the team captain, but there is a strong correlation between the two.
I consider telling him no. Giving my usual excuse of needing to cool down. To stretch. To eat my dietitian-approved meal. But, at the same time, I know I should go. Hell, Iwantto go.
“Yeah. I’m going to try to make it,” I say, hoping that will be enough of a commitment for him.
The double knock at the door announces Coach’s arrival. “Larsen!” she yells, striding in, a small smile on her face when she realizes it’s only J.D. and me. “Did you all see my new apron?” she asks, holding it out.
I grab mine out of my locker. “Matches mine.”
She laughs, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
J.D. looks between us before knocking once on the locker next to mine. “Well, I’m going to head out. I’ll text you the address, okay?”
“Thanks, man.” I give him a fist bump.
“Team dinner?” Finley asks as soon as J.D. is gone. “That’s new for you. Did you confirm there will be steamed broccoli?”
“Haha. You’re so funny,” I grumble. “I’m sure Gloria will have something that fits my diet. She does know she’s feeding a team of professional athletes, right?”
Finley shrugs. “I’d assume so.”
“You’ve never been to a team dinner?” I ask, not really that surprised.
