Grinding (Portland Icehawks #6)

24. Something’s Not Right

Chapter Twenty-Four

SOMETHING’S NOT RIGHT

Word on the street is that the Icehawks are having difficulty unloading Drakos Lenkov’s hefty salary, and most trade scenarios have dried up. They might have to throw in some solid third or fourth-liners to sweeten the pot. I predict we’ll see a lot of movement on that team before the trade deadline as they frantically search for options to improve their playoff chances. —Aria at All Hockey News

~~Camden~~

The team had a two-week home stand, and I’m glad for the break, though we head out on the road again in a couple days. I’ve enjoyed my time in Portland with Inez, even though we’ve lain low and sneaked around like teenagers who have disapproving parents. We might be in love, but we’re no closer to a resolution of our problems than we were days ago.

The trade deadline looms on the horizon. This isn’t a good time in any league locker room, and the Icehawks are no exception. We’ve racked up four wins in a row, but the teams above us are winning, too, so we haven’t made up any ground. We haven’t lost any either.

The guys are on edge, especially with Aria’s frequent hints about trades brewing. Usually, I dismiss rumors as mostly guessing based on what holes the team needs to fill, but Aria has been shockingly accurate in her predictions.

Everyone in the locker room suspects we have a traitor among us leaking information to Aria. We’re not at the pointing fingers stage, but we’re getting there. Despite our winning streak, things seem close to unraveling.

Inez and I are tempting fate. We’ve been together every minute we can spare over the past two weeks. We hang out at her apartment, order takeout, or spend time between the sheets—a lot of time between the sheets. We’ve done some hiking on nice days or taken drives. We avoid public places. I go out with the guys after the games to lessen suspicion, then head to her place. Sometimes Inez goes out, too, sometimes she doesn’t.

Tonight, Inez has a late meeting at the rink with Brian, strategizing before the trade deadline. Drakos and I walk to the Puck for burgers. He’s been unusually melancholy lately, and I’ve been the worst kind of self-absorbed friend. Spending some time with him tonight is good for both of us. I need to get out and pay attention to what’s going on outside my little sphere.

Drakos is on his third vodka, and I’m still nursing my first. That man can hold his liquor and doesn’t seem the least bit buzzed, but the way he’s tossing them down, it won’t be long before he’s shit-faced.

“You might want to slow down a little. We have a big game tomorrow night. Last one before the trade deadline and a long road trip.”

Drakos cringes and swirls his ice around in his glass.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned the deadline.”

“It’s okay. Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. I didn’t want to be selected in the expansion draft in the first place, but now I don’t want to leave. Portland feels like home more than any other place I’ve lived.”

“I feel the same way. I love it here.”

“How the fuck does that woman know so much about our organization?” Obviously, he’s referring to Aria.

“I don’t know. So far, she’s been scarily accurate.”

“What does Inez say about it?”

“She doesn’t share that with me.”

Drakos cocks his head and regards me with amusement. “You sure? I’m guessing you two share quite a bit together.”

Denial is my first inclination, but Drakos knows, and denying the truth won’t convince him differently. “Yeah. We’re lying low.”

“Good idea, but long term what are your plans? You can’t hide your relationship indefinitely.”

“Once we make it to the offseason, we’ll deal with our future.” I must steer this convo back to him. I don’t want to talk about Inez and me because everything is in limbo. “Drake, I came here to talk about you, not me.”

“Me? Why? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re drinking those like water.”

“If that’s bothering you…” He signals the bartender, who hurries to our table.

“Another shot?” the bartender asks.

“I’ll have a vodka and cranberry juice.”

The bartender is back in a flash with his drink.

“See? I’m slowing down.” Drakos holds his glass in the air before taking several swallows.

“How is a vodka and cran any better?”

He shrugs and grins the old, familiar Drakos grin before his expression turns dark again.

“Come on, buddy. Talk to me. You’ve been off for a while. Is it the trade rumors? Aria? Or something else?”

“All of the above.” He smiles, but it’s not reaching his eyes. He’s troubled, and he’s a tough one to get through to.

“Anything you want to say is safe with me.”

Drakos takes his drink and swirls the liquid around in the glass.

“I feel disconnected from life, my friends, hockey. I can’t put a finger on what’s wrong. I’m a fun-loving guy, but lately the partying isn’t making me feel better. I feel worse. Like there’s a void, and I don’t know how to fill it. Hockey, my teammates, and fun times have always been enough until now.”

“Did you ever consider you might be finally growing up?” Some guys would be insulted by my observation, but Drakos merely snorted.

“God, let’s hope not.”

“What I mean is maybe you’re craving something different now, such as more meaningful relationships or hobbies?”

“Me? Hobbies? I guess I golf.”

“I hear you’re shitty at it.”

“You hear right.” He glances around the large room to make sure no one is listening and leans forward, lowering his voice. “All my buddies, one by one, are off the market. Even you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Even me?” I laugh, because I know he’s just giving me shit.

“Yeah, even you.” Drakos grins with revived good spirits, but that doesn’t mean everything’s okay, just okay for now.

“Are you saying you want to settle down?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. Fuck if I know.” He rubs his hands down his face and sighs. “I don’t know what the fuck I want. I just know what I’m doing isn’t working.”

“Drakos, these are tense times for all of us. You might feel differently after the trade deadline.”

“Or I might not.”

“That’s fair enough.” I’m worried too. I’m one of those guys who can be attractive to other teams. I’ve been playing well, my salary doesn’t require a huge cap hit, and I’m versatile. I can be slotted into most positions with most lines. If I’m sent elsewhere, it’ll be temporary. I don’t have a contract after this season. I could come back, not to the team but to the city. While it might be best for Inez if I’m out of the picture for now, it’d break my heart to leave her. And there’re no guarantees I would be back despite my best efforts.

“Where’d you just go?” Drakos taps on my glass with his fork.

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

“We’re all worried, Cam. No one wants to leave. We’re doing something good here, and all the guys want to be a part of it. We’re making the playoffs. I can feel it.”

“Yeah, I know.” I’m grateful he’s made no effort to steer the conversation back to Inez and me.

“So who do you think is the leak? It has to be one of us or a staff person.”

“I really don’t have a clue, and I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Hi, boys, mind if I join you?” I know that voice, and a slow smile spreads across my face.

“Absolutely.” I’m surprised to see Inez at the Puck and even more surprised that she’s sitting at a table with me. But we do have Drakos as a chaperone and an ally. Inez sits diagonally across the table from me and next to Drakos, making it seem as if we mean nothing to each other when we mean everything. My teammate’s smug smile indicates he knows the score.

“How’s the league’s most beautiful GM?” Drakos is in full charmer mode. I’m not jealous. He’s an equal-opportunity flirt. He flirts with anyone over the age of consent.

“Drakos, how are you?”

“I’m good. Has that bastard boss of yours traded my ass yet?” He’s half joking and half serious.

“You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?” Inez flipped his shit right back at him.

Drakos throws back his head and laughs. His spontaneity is contagious, and we join in. The bartender places a glass of wine on the table for Inez. She holds it up in a toast.

“To our playoff chances.”

“Hear, hear,” Drakos and I chant simultaneously.

The Puck door opens and in walk Dash, Everly, Briggs, and Michella. Drakos waves them over, and we pull up a few more chairs.

“Welcome to the party,” Drakos says cheerfully. He’s great at faking it, but I can tell he’s still troubled. I make a mental note to continue this conversation with Drakos later. I’ve been so wrapped up in hockey and Inez, I’ve neglected my roommate. I haven’t realized until now that he might need my support, even though I still don’t know what’s wrong with him.

Drakos’s smile turns to a fierce scowl as he stares at someone outside. “Just what we need.”

Every one of our heads swivels toward the window to see what’s caught Drakos’s attention. Icehawk Public Enemy Number One Aria stands across the street. She glances around as if looking for someone. Seconds later, a guy in a hoodie and baseball cap walks up to her. The streetlights are so dim where they’re standing, I can’t make out any distinguishing features.

“Aria found some sucker to date her?” Drakos tosses down another vodka.

“That guy looks familiar.” Inez scrutinizes him. By her puzzled expression, she’s trying to place him and can’t.

“He just looks like every other guy around here,” Everly notes with a snort. “Though I wouldn’t have pegged him for Aria’s type. He’s too masculine.”

“She’ll emasculate him. Give her time.” Disgusted, Drakos casts one final glare Aria’s way before positioning his chair so he doesn’t have a straight-line view of her.

Everly and Michella glance over their shoulders. “It’s too dark to tell who he is.” Everly dismisses the guy with a wave of her hand.

Michella, being a private eye in training, narrows her gaze and studies him. Finally she shakes her head. “I can’t tell. It’s too dark outside. I could walk past them and report back.”

We state our disapproval of her idea. None of us care enough about Aria’s love life to research it. It’s not as though we’re the ones writing trash about our team.

“Better that poor douche than me,” Drakos mutters.

Michella laughs and shrugs. “You’re right. Who cares?”

“We don’t,” most of us chant at the same time.

I glance at the guy again. He really does look familiar, but it’s too dark outside, and now the rain starts to fall. Aria and her date hurry down the street into a small corner bar and disappear inside.

Something’s not right. I sense it in my gut, but I don’t know why. I turn away from the window. I have better things to do, like lusting after Inez.