Chapter 16 #2
Sandro didn’t bother responding to the wisecrack, but he did elbow Bennett in the ribs when his man chuckled.
The gym smelled like sweat and rubber, a combination of scents that was as familiar to Sandro as the smell of freshly Zambonied ice.
Matty Coates was sprinting on a treadmill like he was trying to outrun his demons—or maybe thoughts of his on-again, off-again girlfriend—Deeley was spotting DeShawn James at the bench press, Prinnie was at the squat rack, and Cotton and Roman were using a pair of exercise bikes.
“I want to talk to you about the wellness initiative,” Sandro said, planting himself between the handlebars of Roman’s bike. Bennett hovered somewhere behind him, camera on his shoulder.
“You?” Roman slowed the bike down, sweaty but not the least bit winded. “You want to talk about the wellness initiative? Voluntarily?”
Sandro crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“What’s a wellness initiative?” Cotton asked.
“Something we’re launching next season,” Sandro told him.
Roman eyeballed him. “Not this season?”
Sandro eyeballed him back. “You think I can put together a program like that in only a couple of months?”
“Sounds like you’ve officially accepted the job.”
“Don’t give me that self-satisfied smirk. You knew I’d come around.”
“I hoped,” Roman corrected. He hopped off the bike and wiped his face with a towel. “What did you want to talk about?”
Sandro thought of Eli’s struggles and of what Bennett had confessed less than twelve hours ago.
“We need to include a program that helps rookies transition into the NHL from the minors or college or wherever they’re coming from, and we need to prioritize it.
It’s a lot for rookie players to step into the spotlight, and we don’t want to see them crash and burn under the pressure. ”
Roman’s gaze slid to Eli, who walked in and did a quick sweep of the room before joining Deeley and DeShawn at the bench press. “Done.”
Sandro blinked. “That easy?”
“It’s your program,” Roman said with a shrug. “What you want, you get.”
“I want an assistant.”
Sandro expected Roman to push back on that, but he nodded and said, “I’ll see what I can do. Hey, are you still coming shopping with me this afternoon? I need to get stocking stuffers for the kids and a Christmas gift for Cody.”
Sandro squinted at him. “Not a watch, right?”
“What’s wrong with a watch? It makes a great gift.”
Cotton, still on the exercise bike, chuckled. “You’ve gotten him three or four over the past decade.”
“Fuck,” Roman muttered. “Have I? Ugh, I’ll think of something else. Why are partners so hard to shop for?”
“Because you buy them whatever they want during the year, so when Christmas rolls around, there’s nothing left.” Cotton got off his bike and reached for his own towel. “Can I come shopping too?”
“Sure.” Roman grabbed his water bottle off the floor. “The more the merrier.”
“And then you guys can come car shopping with me,” Sandro said. “I’m in need of new wheels.”
They both lit up.
“Can we do that first?” Cotton asked.
“Yeah, fuck Christmas shopping,” Roman added.
Shaking his head at them, Sandro moved to the mats to warm up. Bennett followed and watched him do a series of side lunges for a few seconds before setting the camera aside and leaning back against the mirrors. “Didn’t you just put down a deposit for a new engine? Do you need two cars?”
Sandro almost pointed out that most of his teammates had upwards of three or four cars, at least one of which was their summer sports car.
Instead, he took the question at face value and eyed Eli where he was now spotting Deeley.
Sandro could see them in the mirror, Deeley laughing at something Eli said.
“No. I don’t need two cars. I’ve got an idea for the one that’s being fixed. ”
Bennett looked past him, probably also at Eli, because of course he could read Sandro’s mind, even after years of no communication.
After so much time, they were different people, sure. But at their cores, they were who they’d always been, and Bennett had known him inside and out.
Sandro held a side lunge, stretching out his inner thighs. Bennett slid down the mirror onto his haunches, putting them closer to eye level. “That program for rookies,” Bennett said. “It’s smart.”
“You and Eli gave me the idea.”
“I gotta wonder how things might’ve been different if I’d had a program like that my rookie season.”
“Don’t give it too much credit,” Sandro said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I haven’t built it yet. It might not work.”
“It’ll work,” Bennett said, and his confidence bolstered Sandro’s own. “I’d like to interview you about it for the series.”
Sandro transferred his lunge to the other side. “I figured.”
“After the holidays,” Bennett clarified. “I’ve got to fly to New York in a couple of days for a meeting about my next project.”
“What’s your next project?” Sandro asked, aware that their future still needed to be discussed. With him here next season—because yes, he still intended to play another couple of seasons—and Bennett wherever he was working on his projects, they’d need to figure out a game plan.
They’d been separated by distance before and failed.
They wouldn’t fail this time.
“I’m not really allowed to talk about it yet,” Bennett hedged.
Sandro straightened and reached for one of the skipping ropes hanging on a hook. “Are you staying in New York through the holidays or going to see your mom?”
“I’ll only be in New York for a day or so, and Mom’s heading to Mexico with a friend for the holidays, so we’ll catch up in the new year. When do you go home?”
“I’m not,” Sandro said. He’d surprised Bennett judging by the raised eyebrows. “We’ve got a game on the twenty-third and then we fly to Seattle on the twenty-sixth. Didn’t make sense to go home—I’d spend Christmas Day driving back. Are you heading to LA, then?”
“No, I’ll be here.”
“Really?” The prospect of spending this first Christmas with Bennett warmed Sandro from head to toe. “You’ll spend Christmas with me then.”