7. Paxton
Ipondered Cruz’s comment about stubbornness and hockey as I strapped on my skates later that afternoon. The rest of the team had arrived, and we were headed out on the ice in San Jose’s arena for a short practice before our game. I was looking forward to getting out there, hoping the physicality, even if it was light and against my friends, would help reduce the gnawing aggression I felt every time I thought about Hana with that garbage of a skinny-shit excuse for a man.
He was going to pull something with her. I knew it. I hoped she knew it.
“Let’s get out there and see how the ice flows,” Coach Whittaker told us.
Maxim, Stolly, and Cormac bounced up off the bench like excited puppies. They all wore shit-eating grins. That’s what a good woman did for a man. I was happy for them, even as jealousy left a terrible, metallic taste in my mouth.
Hana had been jealous earlier, even as she’d asked me about my hookups. I didn’t want to discuss those with her, ever, but she had a right to know about my years without her. Just as I was going to have to learn about her time without me. Well, if I could talk her into giving me a second chance.
I didn’t deserve it, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I might well beg, like Cruz had suggested. Because when something was that important, you did whatever you needed to do to secure it. Though if Hana’s past was filled with more of the skinny shit or other guys, I was going to detest every single second of her recounting.
“I thought you came out here to lose the scowl,” Stol said as he skated past.
Bastard was living his dream. He’d married his fling and had a kid. I realized with a start that if Hana had had our child, he or she would be a couple of years older than Stolly’s little girl. I’d have the oldest kid on the team.
“Leave him be,” Cruz grumbled as he edged Stol with his shoulder. “He’s processing.”
“Ah,” Maxim said, nodding. “She didn’t drop to her knees and say you were a god and admit she’d been pining for you?”
“Who the fuck would do that?” Cormac wanted to know. “The garbage that comes out of your mouth.”
“What?” Maxim said. “That would be romantic.”
“That would be mortifying,” Stol said, eyes wide. “I love Millie’s fire.”
Maxim burst out laughing as he skated ahead.
“Dude likes to mess with us,” Cormac noted. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something to get even with his stupidity.”
“On it,” Cruz said. “I already filched his apple butter. It’s a tub of the stuff. We’ll eat it in front of him before the game. That’ll get him all riled up.”
Cormac rubbed his hands together, grinning broadly. “I love this plan.”
“San Jose won’t,” I said.
“That’s why it’s a good one,” Cruz noted.
We continued to skate, warming up our legs, but my mind drifted back to Hana. I didn’t think the skinny shit would hurt her, but I hadn’t liked the way he talked to her. I needed to make sure she was safe.
Cruz appeared next to me, matching my stride. “She’s fine,” he said. “The dude, Jeremy, the one you call skinny shit, is her boss.”
“How do you know that?”
Cruz smirked. “Insider knowledge.”
“You’re hiding something,” I decided. “Not just about Hana, but in your life. Come on, what is it?”
Cruz shrugged. “Not a thing to worry about.”
I snorted. Like I believed him.
We collected our hockey sticks and began drills, my mind eased by Cruz’s comments but still flooded with Hana’s expression. I sighed as I missed a pass from Stolly, who shouted at me, raising his gloves in frustration.
Coach had his arms crossed over his chest as he glared. “All right. You guys are done for now. Rest up, grab a bite—you know the drill.”
As I stepped off the ice to head to the locker room, Coach fell into step beside me. “You need to get your head in the game.”
“I know.”
“I gave you a lot of leeway, Naese. Don’t make me regret it.”
“You did. I’ll be ready for the game,” I assured him. And I was determined to make that true, so I went to eat with Cruz and tried my hardest to chill out.
By the time we returned to get ready for the game, I did feel clearer, more focused, though I couldn’t pinpoint why. When we’d arrived at the arena earlier today, I’d asked Sandy, the administrative staffer who had flown in with the team from Houston, to let me know if Hana picked up her ticket at will-call. Once we were seated in the locker room and Coach Whittaker had finished his debrief, Sandy gave me a thumbs-up. Hana was in her seat. Now I had butterflies dancing through my belly, making my hands a little shaky as I wrapped my stick. I needed to calm down all over again.
“You okay?” Cormac asked.
“Hana’s here.”
“Oh. Cool.” He smiled. “Where’s she sitting? I can have some of the CATS talk to her.”
“I don’t know if she’d handle that well?—”
“Already sorted,” Cruz said. “She’s with Ida Jane.”
“Wish Keelie could have come,” Cormac said, suddenly morose. “She would have liked to meet Hana.”
“Did Keelie stay at home with Brooks?” I asked.
Cormac perked up. “Yeah, and she said he smiled today. He’s sleeping better, too. Six whole hours.”
“That’s great, man.”
A pang hit me as I realized again that I could have had a kid. I could be the one bursting with pride because the tot slept several hours in a row. Maybe by now we would even have a second little peanut on the way—if Hana was interested in more kids, of course.
Maxim tossed stuff around in his locker. “Where’s my apple butter?” he asked.
“Here,” Cruz said.
I whistled as I noted the size. That was a huge jar.
“You’re sharing this,” he informed Maxim. “I don’t want to hear a word! You don’t want to end up over your weight limit.” Cruz pulled out a container of plastic spoons and disposable bowls. “And if I see you trying to hoard this kind of thing again, I’m taking you down.”
“Like to see you try,” Maxim snapped.
“Leave it, guys,” Cormac said, his tone easy. Everyone listened to him. Maxim and Cruz settled down, maybe because Maxim was now snarfing apple butter. Dude was addicted to the stuff.
Stolly’s phone rang, and he dove for it, crooning into the receiver. I would have rolled my eyes at how lovesick the sap was if I didn’t want the same thing—and just like that, my thoughts returned, again, to Hana.
“Put that liquid candy down, Maxim. Now. Get your heads out of your butts and into the game,” Coach said as he strolled into the room. How he knew Cormac was staring daggers at Cruz before he even entered was pure magic.
“Off that phone, Stol,” Coach said. He finally looked up from his clipboard. “Paloma’s on standby if Millie needs anything. Now, I want to go over the plan of attack one more time before we warm up.”
* * *
The game was a bruiser,but I relished the aggressive play because it required my full focus. No time to worry about how I’d left the situation with Hana or get my hopes up about a future she hadn’t admitted to wanting.
I slammed a defenseman into the boards with my shoulder and turned to block his stick as he tried to reach for the puck. I slapped around his flailing and shot the puck up toward Stol, who gave his wrist a gentle flip and slipped the puck into the net between the goalie’s outstretched arm and leg.
The blue light swirled, and the crowd grew quieter, except for the cheering from our CATS section behind the bench. Cormac patted my helmet and Cruz whacked my shoulder while the rest of the team congratulated Stol.
Yeah, the two of us made a great offensive duo, but without Cormac, Cruz, and Maxim blocking San Jose’s offense, we wouldn’t have had so much puck time. This group of men worked together as a seamless unit, one we’d been trying to build in our second and third lines. I was beginning to realize that our closeness off the ice helped us play better together in the rink—no doubt another reason Coach was keen on us getting together often.
San Jose came roaring out in the next period, seeming determined to tie the game. The ferociousness heated up, and I took an elbow to the same cheek Hana had hit with the stapler. The team medic pulled me off the ice to have the gash cleaned and bandaged. I glanced over while the trainer worked on me, catching a glimpse of Hana, who sat in the seat next to Ida Jane. She wore a simple blue sweater and dark leggings tucked into calf-high boots. Her hair was pulled back from her face and in a long, thick braid that had settled over one shoulder. A few wisps of Hana’s blue-black hair framed her face. Her brown eyes were large with worry. When I offered her a wave, she sent back a tight smile.
Ida Jane leaned closer to Hana and spoke into her ear. Hana nodded but kept her gaze on me, not bothering to look when the crowd gasped then booed.
I wasn’t surprised that Ida Jane had introduced herself nor that she’d taken Hana under her wing. These games were a lot more to handle than the high school versions.
When I looked back at the ice, Maxim had an offensive player against the boards, and Cormac was trying to sweep the puck from between the guy’s skates. A collective groan went up as Cormac scraped the puck clean and shot it forward to Stolly. He laid into the slap shot, but the goalie blocked it with his padded shin.
I returned my attention to Hana and found her staring at me. I winked, which led to another smile.
“Stop that,” the medic said. “Now that the cut’s clean, I’ll get the glue in there before I put on the bandage.”
“Sorry, Derry. Just letting my girl know I’m okay.”
“After you’re treated,” Derry said, never taking his eyes from my cheek. “Done.” He pulled off his gloves and gave me a nod.
I headed toward Coach. “I’m good,” I said.
Coach nodded, his arms crossed, eyes never leaving the play on the ice. “Take a breather. The rookie’s got something to prove, and we’re going to see if he can manage to do so.”
I grumbled, frustrated with the idea of a twenty-one year old coming for my spot. Not that I was that much older, but I had two and a half seasons with the NHL under my belt, and Stol and I were practically unstoppable when we paired up.
“Hana saw you play,” Coach said, seeming to read my mind—and the thoughts I hadn’t been willing to think. “She’s duly impressed. Now, let me win this game so I don’t have to deal with the media vultures picking at my bones later.”
“Yes, Coach.”
The puck slid toward our new goalie, Hansen, who’d taken over from Adam Kramer when he retired at the end of last season. Thankfully, both the coaching staff and Adam had wanted him to continue to be part of the team. So Adam now handled training and nutrition for our goalies, Hansen and Pedersen.
Coach looked over at me as the guys all took a quick breather. “I like her,” he said, tipping his head up toward Hana.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“We chatted while you were warming up. Smart woman. Brilliant, in fact.”
“She is.”
“Does she keep up with you on all that aerospace stuff?”
I smiled. “She’s where I learned it.”
Coach chuckled, nodded, and returned his focus to the game. “Sit. Rest. Hydrate. You’re back in three if I don’t see the rook producing.”
* * *
I putin another fifteen minutes on the ice during the third period, and it was rougher than the first. My ribs ached from the multitude of elbows I’d taken, but I’d managed another assist, this time to the rookie, who Coach had kept on the line, pulling Bonnie, our old-timer.
Bonnier, who we called Bonnie, was thirty-six and showing his age. He didn’t have the speed Stol or I did, but he was crafty, with a depth of knowledge about the game we hadn’t yet achieved. Still, it was becoming clear that Bonnie was going to have to hang up his skates, and soon. I hated the idea, just as I’d hated Adam choosing to retire. Change wasn’t really my thing.
I looked up at Hana after we’d shaken hands with the other team at the end. She was staring at me, so I mouthed, “Come down.”
She’d know I meant the locker room, as I’d had Ida Jane pass along the invitation to meet me there earlier. Now it was time to see whether Hana was open to more than the closure we’d begun to get this morning. If she came, I’d find out if she was interested in pursuing something new, better with me.
Hana bit her plump, pink lip, clearly hesitant. She leaned over toward Ida Jane and said something. Ida Jane nodded, and the two of them rose from their seats. The guys corralled me down the tunnel, and I didn’t see where the women went.
Two TV crews waited to talk to me about the game, and I did my best to show them the respect their viewers deserved, but all I wanted was to get into the shower and see if Hana was waiting. If so, I’d take her out for a late dinner, or maybe invite her back to my hotel room—no, bad idea. She’d think I wanted sex.
Which I did, because sex, but now wasn’t the time for that. We needed to heal the breach I’d created between us and find a way to move forward with our relationship, whatever that would be.