Page 5 of Blueline Baby

“I fell.”

“You… fell. In the hallway?”

“No, in the door. She opened the door. Where is she?”

“The library probably. The girl does not stop studying. She also warned me that if—hold on.” She reaches for her phone and glances at the screen. “‘If you offer to show me your Stanley Cup, you’re actually trying to proposition me, and to tell you no.’”

“Chloe seems like kind of a cockblock.”

Britt sets her magazine down. “I don’t know. I’d actually love to see your Stanley Cup.”

My mouth works before my brain does. “Nah, I’m good.”

She raises her eyebrows like she can’t believe I’ve just turned her down. I can’t believe it myself. I don’t say no to women. It’s kind of my whole thing, except now it’s suddenly not.

“She knew the neutral zone,” I say. “Off the top of her head. How does she know hockey?”

Britt shrugs without looking up. “I don’t know. Her brother played, or something. She watches every game, yells at the refs like they can hear her. It’s the only thing she does that isn’t studying.” She turns a page. “Why?”

“No reason.”

She scoffs. She definitely doesn’t buy it.

“She’s not gonna go for you. Which I’m guessing isn’t a sentence you hear much.”

“It’s not.”

“She thinks hockey players are a personality type.” Britt looks me up and down, taking in yesterday’s clothes and the floor I’m still half on. “Right now you’re kind of proving it.”

“I fell.”

“Sure.”

I dig my other shoe out from under the coffee table and jam my foot in. A blanket I didn’t realize was covering me slides to the floor. It takes me a second to work out that Chloe must have put it there. I catch myself smiling. Seems like she might make me work for it, but she still covered me up.

“Tell Chloe thanks for the blanket,” I say.

“No.”

I let myself out and glance at the number on the door as it closes behind me. Two-oh-four. One floor under mine. She’s been down here the whole time, and I had absolutely no idea.

Jude is standing in the kitchen when I walk into our apartment.

“He lives,” he says. “Coach called and said he’s been calling you. I told him you had food poisoning. He didn’t buy it, so pretty sure you’re getting bag skated tomorrow.”

“Worth it.”

He’s already texting someone, probably the guys, probably about me. “He said to tell you if you’re late one more time he’s sitting you a period.”

“He won’t.”

“He said it real serious.”

“He always says it real serious. Then I put up two and he forgets his own name.” I’m not bragging. It’s just how it works. You produce, you get a longer leash. I’ve got one of the longest leashes on the team.

“Where were you? Your car’s downstairs.”

“Two-oh-four.”