Chapter Seventeen
Rip
After leaving Adrian’s apartment, I made it to Blades Arena well before the nine thirty practice time.
It gave me time to relish the quiet of the locker room, smelling fresh from the cleaning crew.
No pungent scent of too many bodies, sweat and cologne, and no equipment and pads littering the floor and benches.
I taped up my stick and didn’t feel like waiting for the rest of the team.
The empty arena echoed as I sped down the ice.
Division flags of past wins hung from the ceiling, and I skated past the jerseys of the Blades’ retired greats: Lavaliere, Stepnik, Barnes, Kozlov.
Some Hall of Famers, all All-Stars. Some had achieved that Stanley Cup win, and I wanted into that exclusive club.
“Rip, what the hell?” Seb skated to me, followed by the rest of the team. “Where’d you disappear to last night? I texted after Adrian’s show, but you never answered.”
I had no chance to reply as Coach waved us all to the box.
“Good to see the captain setting the example for the rest of the team. I don’t have to tell you that the Alpines are division rivals and only ten points behind us.
The key is possession, pressure, and persistence.
Keep on their asses, and don’t make any mistakes.
They’re fast, eager, and have a lot of young talent. ”
My jaw tightened at his emphasis on the word “young.” He wasn’t wrong, yet it made me more aware than ever how fleeting my time might be with the Blades.
“But we have what they don’t. Experience.” I met Coach’s gaze, then scanned the team and nodded with determination. “This isn’t the first time we’ve been here, and I’m confident our veterans will lead the way.”
On the opposite side of the ice, the Alpines were getting in their morning skate as well.
They were an exciting team with some great prospects, but Coach was right—we knew what it was like to be in a playoff race.
This was our year, and we were hungry for the championship.
As happy as I was with my new relationship with Adrian, I had to put all thoughts of him out of my mind and channel all my effort to my team. I raised my stick.
“Coach knows what’s up. We need to stay on their asses, force them to make errors and turn over the puck.
They have a lot of rookies, which means they’re not used to everything we’ve got.
We’re gonna push them to the limit, have defensemen press them from both sides.
This isn’t a time to make records or think about personal goals. We have one mission: win the game.”
The rest of practice went smoothly, and I spent the day getting stretched, having a massage, and doing a light workout.
I took a power nap, listened to some music, and returned to the locker room to get ready for the game.
Much as I wanted to know how Adrian’s day went and how the preliminary ratings for the show ranked, I had to compartmentalize everything else in my life that wasn’t this upcoming game.
I walked with my team through the tunnel, and we took to the ice. As always, being on my skates sent my pulse into overdrive. I loved it, and the rush of adrenaline pouring through my veins heightened my awareness.
Fans had entered the arena, and we split up and skated to them to sign autographs and take pictures. I didn’t see Adrian, but I was surprised to see Neil making his way to one of the seats I had reserved, and my gut tightened. I finished taking pictures with one group of fans, and skated to him.
“Hey. Great to see you. Been a while.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah, well, you’ve been busy.”
I hefted my stick. “Just a little. I’d better go. Gotta do last checks.”
“Good luck.”
For the first time in decades, talking to my best friend left me uncomfortable. Maybe that was to be expected because of my new relationship with Adrian, but I couldn’t concentrate on Neil’s feelings, or even Adrian’s.
The game was as predicted—fast, furious, and physical.
For each push we made, the Alpines shoved back.
We capitalized on drawing their goalie into the crease, and I scored twice and Peter once on a spectacular shot.
They figured to try our own play with Denis, but he was too wily to fall for that trick and smothered their attempts.
Our forechecking game was working double time, and they tried to send the puck to their wingers, but we’d watched enough films of their games and were more than ready for it.
I smashed into their defenseman, face-planting him into the ice, and Seb stole the puck, taking it down ice with Chitty on his heels.
“Yes, to your right,” I screamed. Chitty was there to receive Seb’s pass, and he threaded a shot right between their goalie’s legs a second before he butterflied.
In the end, we won 4-2, and I was fucking wiped.
I headed into the tunnel and saw Neil and Adrian sitting together.
I didn’t know whether to be happy or concerned, but my body hurt too much to care.
My knee had taken a solid bang when I was tripped, and the fights against the boards left me with aching ribs.
As always, we had to do the press meet, and it was the same questions every game.
At this point I felt like they might as well put a cardboard cutout of me with a tape recording playing the answers.
“Do you think this will be the year the Blades will win?”
“Who do you see as your biggest obstacle to get to the final?”
And a question was directed to me from that weasel reporter, Martin Price, who made his living writing hit pieces on New York teams.
“Rip. You took a hard knock to the knee. Will you be one hundred percent for the next game?”
Fucker. But of course I smiled. “I hadn’t noticed. So I guess it’s not a problem at all. I am a hundred percent.”
“Do you think it’ll hold up in the playoffs?”
“Definitely.”
“Any thoughts of retiring?” he asked, and I narrowed my eyes.
“Not me. How about you?” The rest of the media circus in the room laughed, and I rose to my feet. “I need to change, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let Seb and Coach answer the rest of your questions.”
I hated throwing Seb to the wolves, but if I didn’t leave, I might have been tempted to grab a stick and smack Price on top of his shiny head.
I left them sitting and headed to the physical therapy room.
I shucked my protective equipment, and our trainer, Gustav, worked on me.
I groaned and rolled my shoulders as he dug into a hard knot.
He tsked about my knee, rubbed some smelly shit on it, and wrapped it.
“How bad?” I held my breath in anticipation of bad news.
“It’s strained, but we’ll ice it, then apply heat. That should help you. Hard game, huh?”
“You know it.” I grunted and sighed when he draped heating pads over various parts of my body. Twenty minutes later I stretched and stood, testing my knee. “Feels better.” I clasped his hand. “Thanks, man. You’re a miracle worker.”
“Come early next time, and I’ll stretch it before the game and wrap it. In the meantime, don’t strain it.”
I gave him a thumbs-up and headed to the locker room.
“Listen up,” Coach called out. “That was a good game. You all came out hungry and anticipated their plays. I liked what I saw. Tomorrow be here at nine thirty for practice, then films on the Defenders. We have two days until that game, and I want us primed and ready.”
“Yes, Coach.” Tired as I was, I rose to my feet. “Remember that the Defenders are second in the Western division, and though they beat us at the end of last season, it was only by a goal. They’re gonna be gunning for our asses, but we’ll be ready for them, right?”
“You bet.”
“Definitely.”
“Damn straight.”
A hot shower revived me, so by the time I was dressed and ready to leave, I felt alive and awake.
A gaggle of fans waited at the exits, and I signed their programs, hats, jerseys, and took photographs, well aware that Neil and Adrian waited on the periphery of the crowd.
They seemed to be getting along well enough, as both had smiles on their faces.
I waved to everyone and tossed my cap to a little girl.
“Night, everyone. See you in two days. Come cheer us on.”
Finally free, I joined them, and Neil’s relaxed expression faded, replaced by a wariness I’d never seen, at least toward me.
“Hey,” I said. “Great game, huh?”
“You were amazing,” Adrian gushed. “Two goals.” Perhaps realizing he was overenthusiastic in his praise, he pressed his lips together.
“Thanks. Are you up for something to eat? I’m starving.” I directed my question to Neil, since I fully intended on spending my dinner and night with Adrian.
“I ate before the game, but I’ll join you anyway if you two don’t mind a third wheel.”
Adrian’s cheeks flamed, but I kept it casual. “Sounds good.”
We ended up at a diner a block from the arena. “Best burgers in Brooklyn,” I informed them as we slid into a booth.
“I only had a yogurt and granola bar for lunch, so I’m hungry.” Adrian took the seat opposite mine, and Neil sat next to him.
The server appeared immediately. “Hey, Rip Tremaine. Great game. I’m betting on the Blades to get the Cup this year. The team’s on fire.”
“Thanks a lot. I think so too. I’ll start out with a pitcher of water and a bacon double cheeseburger with fries. Adrian?”
“Um, a cheeseburger and fries, please. Water’s fine for me too.”
“Just coffee for me, please,” Neil added.
“You got it, guys.”
She left us, and we sat staring at each other. I wasn’t about to speak first. If Neil had something on his mind, he’d tell me eventually.
“What’re you doing?” he finally asked after we’d held a staring contest for a minute.
My hand tightened on my glass. “Meaning what? ’Cause I think I’m sitting here waiting for my food.”
His lips thinned, turning white. “Cut the crap. You told me this boyfriend shit was all a farce. But from what I’ve seen, it doesn’t look that way.”
“Lemme ask you something. For argument’s sake, let’s say Adrian and I are really together. It’s obvious it would bother you. Why?”
Always one to say what he meant, Neil blew out a harsh breath. “Look, I love you like a real brother. But you and relationships don’t have a good track record. I’m looking out for Adrian too.”
“Whoa, wait a minute. Hold up. Denis’s cheating is my fault?
” Hearing it from Neil’s mouth hurt almost as much as Denis walking out on me.
Of all people, I’d thought Neil would have always been on my side.
In the end, it looked like I could only count on myself.
A nudge to my foot brought my attention to Adrian, and he smiled at me and shook his head.
I was wrong. I wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Making a fist on the table, Neil grew angry. “Where the hell did you get that from? No, of course not. I always thought he was a smug fucker and hated how badly he treated you because you deserve so much better. I know what family means to you.”
Speaking of family…with all the tumult of the past few weeks, I’d never told Neil I’d met my father.
I’d never even let him know I knew he existed.
A year ago, I probably would’ve called him right after my father confronted me in Texas, but now it was Adrian I automatically turned to.
Still, Neil was my best friend, and this was one of the single most important events of my life.
I wanted to share it with him and get his opinion.
“There’s something I’ve been keeping from you,” I said, and watched his eyes dart to Adrian, then again to me, his face hard as if he were readying for battle. “It’s got nothing to do with Adrian. Years ago, someone showed up in my life claiming to be my father.”
Neil’s eyes popped out, and his jaw dropped. “You’re shitting me. And you sure it’s him?”
“Yeah. I had him take a DNA test, and we’re a match.”
Stricken, Neil raked his hand through his hair. “Goddamn, Rip. I-I never expected this. Why didn’t you tell me this before? You shouldn’t have had to be alone through that.” I winced at the betrayal in his voice. “I thought you trusted me.”
I couldn’t tell him that his parents knew and he didn’t. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t that at all. I trust you with everything. You’re my best friend, my brother in every way. But you and Lisa just had a baby, and I guess…I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
“Never,” he insisted. “I could never think less of one of the most important people in my life.”
Our friendship was strong, and I knew we’d be able to move past this once we aired it all out. For the first time since we sat down, I could breathe easy.
“Thanks,” I whispered. “Over the years he’s called me. In fact, that photo of Adrian with his arm around me that showed up on the Internet was right after he called me. Adrian was simply comforting me when that cameraman took those pictures.”
“That piece of shit,” Neil muttered.
“When we were in Texas, he approached us at a restaurant, insisting he wanted to talk to me, but I had no use for him. I told him to get lost. Instead, he came after I’d left to try and get to Adrian instead.”
“And he had a lot to say.” Adrian filled Neil in on their conversation, which, I hated to admit, still left me with more questions than answers.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked Neil.
“Oh, man.” He sighed. “That’s a question for Mom. I’m sure she’d want to know. Have you said anything to her?”
I shook my head. “No. I wouldn’t want her to think I wasn’t happy with her and your dad as my family. I couldn’t love anyone more as my parents.”
Shocked, Neil protested. “No way would they ever think that. They’d both be so happy for you to have a connection with your blood relative.”
“Blood doesn’t always mean better.”
Neil’s gaze shifted from me to Adrian, then back to me. “I lucked out in both.”
I lifted my chin. “I know I did. I’ve never been happier. Ever.”
“With Adrian? All of a sudden, you’re interested in nice guys?”
I had no desire to let the conversation spiral. I had too much to lose, professionally and personally. Somehow, I had to convince Neil to table his concern for Adrian.
I pinched my eyes shut for a moment before answering.
“Whatever is happening between Adrian and me is between us. We’re both adults, and we don’t need your permission for anything we do.
But come on, man. I’m in the middle of a playoff race, and it’s at the wire.
You, more than anyone else, know how important this time of year is.
Please…I’m sitting here begging you not to distract me with this.
Not now. After the season is over, we can sit and talk.
Friend to friend. Brother to brother. Just not now. ”
Our food came, but I waited to hear what Neil would say.
Instead, Adrian jumped into the conversation.