Ari gives me a little squeeze. Affection? Gratitude? Who knows.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ari
“You don’t haveto do this,” Felix says for what must be the twentieth time since this subject first came up.
I drop a kiss on his mouth and hand him his beanie. The weather took a nasty turn this week, and even though he runs warm, he’ll need it. “I know. I want to.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “Really?”
“You’re going to be late, and then Coach will scratch you.”
Felix glances at his phone, swears, and backs toward my front door. “Okay, I’m going. Just as long as you understand that I won’t be upset if you change your mind.”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “Fe, I’m letting your nephew sit with me at the game, not donating an organ. Go, already.”
He hesitates, then seems to pull himself together and turns to the door. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. See you after the game?”
“Riley and I will wait in the family room,” I promise, and he flashes a smile at me as he leaves.
I’m folding laundry and counting down the minutes until I have to leave for the game—not something past me would ever have thought I’d do—when my phone chimes with a text.
Erik:
Do you mind coming to the arena early? I want to go over some of the details for the teen session next week.
I glance at the remainder of my laundry, which will survive unfolded, and mentally weigh it against ironing out the last kinks in the plans Erik and I have been working on for weeks.
Sure, I’m on my way.
There’s no contest.
“So that’s settled,then? We’re one hundred percent sure we want to handle it that way?” Erik’s still frowning slightly, but compared to the scowl he was wearing when we started, he looks positively delighted.
“It’s settled,” I say firmly. “You and I handle the registration, check-in, and group allocations. The parents have no contact with the players or coaches until the photo session after the event. The kids only have contact on the actual ice and during the photo session.”
Erik bites his lip. “That should cut down on the potential for anyone to complain about how we played last season—or give advice. The one thing all the guys asked for after the last few events was that nobody give them advice on how to play or coach.”
I grimace. As a subject-matter expert who’s had to sit through having people who know very little about my field of expertise offer advice as though they know better than me, I canattest that it sucks. Especially when I’m forced to be polite to them instead of suggesting that they fuck off.
“You and I will be there,” I remind him. “We can step in and redirect things if it looks like any of the parents or kids are getting too enthusiastic.” We want them enthusiastic, but not so much that they annoy one of the players enough that he’s rude to them. We’re trying to impress our fellow elves with what a great, family-friendly team the Warhammers are.
“True. I might ask Lurlene if she can spare some time to come down too. Another person to distract overeager parents isn’t a bad thing.” He makes a note, then brightens. “But the numbers are better than we thought they’d be, and I bet after the king comes to the game tonight, we’ll get another wave of inquiries. It helps that the team’s been playing better this season. Two wins, two losses, and an overtime loss!”
He sounds so pleased that I reach out and pat his arm. “You’re doing a good job, Erik.”
Startled eyes blink back at me, and then he flushes pink. “Oh, well… I’m trying. It hasn’t been easy for all of us to integrate here on Earth—it’s like being the new kid at school, but instead of just at school, it’s everywhere, and there’s nowhere familiar. It really helped me when I started coming to hockey games and got to know other fans, both in person and online. There’s something about a sport that can cross cultural barriers and languages, you know? We’re all playing by the same rules and talking about the same games.” He shrugs awkwardly. “I think it can help other elves too. We’re not always as good as dragons when it comes to building social connections.”
Before I can tell him he’s right, he scoffs.
“Listen to me, rambling on like I have a vocation to save our people or something. It’s just a sport, and I’m getting paid to promote it.” He draws back slightly and begins gathering his things.
“You’re doing a good job,” I repeat. “And you’re helping our people at the same time. That’s not nothing, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”
He goes even pinker, looks away, and mumbles, “Thank you.”
My phone ringing interrupts, and I glance at the screen and see Riley’s name. “I need to take this. It’s Felix’s nephew.”
