I start toward my car, keys already in my hand. Captain’s practice. It’s an informal one since we’re in the offseason, but that’s the plan. I’m headed to what I know. Ice. Structure. Systems. I exhale, rolling my shoulders back. Just get to the Birdcage and then I can leave it all on the ice.
I reach my car, pull the door open, and slide in, tossing my keys into the ignition. The engine turns over, familiar, grounding. I pull out onto the street, merging into traffic, already running through drills in my head. Positioning. Footwork. Timing. Clean. Predictable.
Yep, it’s the way I like things.
The sound of Darth Vader’s theme from Star Wars fills the car, breaking the tension I have with myself and making me laugh out loud when I jump. I glance at the screen, but I already know it’s Emma.
I hit accept, switching to speaker. “What do you need?”
“Wow,” she says. “Not even a hello.”
“You only call when you need something.”
She laughs. “That wasn’t nice to say, but it’s true so I’ll accept it.”
“Well, what do you need?”
“I need you to please talk to Ava Thompson’s mother if youcan. She’s left a few messages on my phone asking some questions about practice this week, so I was going to give her your number to connect with you if that’s cool?”
“Easy enough,” I say, my shoulders already relaxing. “I thought you were gonna ask for something way worse.”
“I’m not done yet,” she says, and I can hear movement on her end, like she’s pacing. “That said, I do need a favor.”
I snort. “I knew it.”
“I’m going to stay up here in Canada for another week,” she barrels on. “With Mom.”
I frown slightly, glancing at the road. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.”
“I was,” she says. “But she’s found a florist that’s local who can meet with me this week about the wedding, so I’m going to stay a few extra days. I figure since you’re handling things with the team, I’m going to enjoy my freedom.”
“Okay,” I say. “And you need me in what capacity? Am I going to FaceTime with you about your florals?”
“No,” she continues, “I got a message over the weekend that my ring is ready.”
My grip tightens slightly on the wheel.
“I was going to pick it up tomorrow, but now I can’t.”
I already know where she’s going.
“No,” I say.
“Ty.”
“No.”
“Ty.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Please,” she says, drawing it out just enough to be annoying. “Would you just go by the jewelry store and pick it up for me?”
I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “Nope.”
“It’s literally just picking it up.”
“No.”
