4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Kevin
The locker room after is a cemetery. No one talks. Guys strip off their gear in silence — skates being untied, equipment tossed into bags. Two losses in a row. Not great.
"Tough game," Coach says, standing at the front of the room. His expression is unreadable. "Calgary outworked us in the third. We got sloppy with the puck. Made bad decisions. That's two losses in a row, gentlemen. We can't afford to make it three. Vancouver is up next. Get some rest."
He leaves. Nobody moves.
"Sunshine," Aiden says quietly, sitting down next to me. "How bad?"
"Grade one AC sprain. Quinn cleared me for Vancouver."
"Still hurts like a bitch though, doesn't it?"
"Yeah."
"You good to play?"
"Yeah."
Aiden shakes his head but doesn't push. That's the thing about a good captain; they know when to lead and when to just be there. "Drinks tonight?"
"Yeah. Give me an hour."
Media obligations are mercifully brief. The beat reporters ask the usual questions: what went wrong, how's the shoulder, are you worried about the losing streak? I give them nothing and I escape after five minutes of bland answers about battling hard and executing better.
Back at the hotel, I shower in water as hot as I can stand, trying to loosen the muscles around my shoulder. It doesn't help much. Everything's stiff and angry, and I know tomorrow's going to be worse.
My phone buzzes while I'm getting dressed.
Ranger’s Mom
Ranger and I watched. He's worried about his dad. You okay?
I stare at the message. I could lie. Say it was fine. That my shoulder's okay.
But it's Sarah.
Shoulder's fucked. Playing tomorrow anyway.
Three dots appear immediately.
Ranger’s Mom
Kevin.
She reinforces her solitary use of my name with a gif of Dorothy from The Golden Girls, making a very disapproving face.
Message conveyed.
Don't start.
Ranger’s Mom
I'm going to start. You can't play through a serious injury. Don't be stubborn.
Grade one AC sprain. Quinn says I'm good for tomorrow.
Ranger’s Mom
You just said it was fucked.
Fucked and serious are different categories.
She drops another gif. This time, a toddler rolling her eyes in a particularly dramatic fashion as a cartoon unicorn gallops behind her.
Ranger’s Mom
That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. And remember, I was there when Tyler thought he could make it through the 5 hole wing challenge.
Despite everything — the loss, the pain, the exhaustion — I laugh.
Fair point.
Ranger’s Mom
Take care of yourself, Sunshine. Please.
I will. How's Ranger?
Ranger’s Mom
Missing you. He keeps checking the door like you're going to walk through it.
Tell him one more game and I'm home.
Ranger’s Mom
I'll let him know. And Kevin?
Yeah?
Ranger’s Mom
I'm proud of you. Even when you make stupid decisions about your shoulder.
Nothing hurts anymore. Not even the fuckingly fucked shoulder.
Seeing that first sentence on my phone screen was not what I was expecting. Like getting hit but in a good way. If that's even a thing.
It's a thing. Apparently.
She can hit me with that all she wants. I’ll remember it when I step on the ice tomorrow In Vancouver.
Thanks, Sarah.
I don't know how to respond to her without sounding like a teenager at prom. Don't know how to explain that her texts are the best part of these road trips. That knowing she's in my place, taking care of Ranger, waiting for me to come home… It makes everything easier.
A knock on my door interrupts before I can overthink it any further. Which is probably for the best.
"Sunshine! Bar time!" That's definitely Liam.
I pocket my phone and open the door. Liam's there with Aiden, both of them in casual clothes, both looking determined to shake off the loss with alcohol.
"Come on," Aiden says. "You're not allowed to sulk in your room."
"I'm not sulking."
"You're the king of Canadian hotel sulking. Let's go."
The hotel bar is a generic upscale place that could be in any city. It’s full of dark wood, leather booths, and manufactured character that’s topped off with overpriced drinks. But it's got a decent whiskey selection and it's close, which is all that matters when you're too tired to go far.
We grab a booth in the back. Aiden orders a round of local beer. Liam orders an Alberta Premium Cask Strength. I order a Glenfiddich 18 Small Batch. We know we’re one-and-done because this travel schedule is as brutal as the games have been, so we get straight to the good stuff.
"To losing," Aiden says, raising his glass. "And to one more game before we get to go home."
"To going home," Liam echoes.
We drink. The whiskey burns going down, but it's a good burn. I appreciate that it’s the kind that can make a man forget for a second that his shoulder feels like someone's driving nails into it.
"Vancouver's going to be rough," Aiden says after a minute. "They are aggressive this season. They're going to come at us hard."
"We'll be ready," Liam says, but he doesn't sound convinced.
"Will we?" I hear myself ask. "We just lost two in a row. Calgary outworked us. We've got Chrissy out and Brando’s not back to full form yet. My shoulder's compromised. How are we supposed to—"
"Hey." Aiden cuts me off. "One game at a time. We get through Vancouver, we go home, we reset. Coach'll figure it out."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we figure it out ourselves. That's what teams do." Aiden takes another drink. "But right now, we're not talking about hockey. We're having a drink with our brothers and pretending we're normal people for five minutes."
It isn’t the worst plan I’ve ever heard. I sip my Glenfiddich slowly, in solidarity with the captain’s orders.
"Excuse me?"
I look up. There's a woman standing by our table — blonde, pretty, wearing a red Calgary home jersey that's definitely more fashion than function. She's looking directly at me with the kind of smile that would normally be flattering.
"You're Kevin St. Clair, right? Number 6?"
"Yeah."
"I'm Natalie. I just wanted to say you played a great game tonight. I’m so sorry you got hurt because you were amazing out there."
Liam's trying not to laugh. Aiden's face clearly telegraphs that he's about to jump in with something unhelpful.
"Thanks," I reply flatly, because what else am I supposed to say?
"Are you guys staying in town long? Maybe I could buy you a drink? Make up for the home crowd being so rough on you?"
She's hitting on me. This is clearly hitting on me. And any other season, any other trip, I might have said yes.
But even though my body is in a poser bar in western Canada, my brain is back in central Texas.
Sarah’s on my couch with Ranger, and she’s got Bridgerton on the TV.
I know there’s grownup Lunchable-type snack food on the table beside her because she got too caught up in what she was doing to take the time to make an actual meal.
I'm so pathetic.
"I appreciate the offer," I say, trying to be polite. "But I've got an early flight tomorrow. Rain check?"
"Oh." She looks disappointed but recovers quickly. "Sure. Rain check. Good luck in Vancouver."
She walks away. I can feel Liam and Aiden staring at me.
"What?"
"You just turned down a beautiful woman who was very clearly offering more than a drink," Aiden says.
"I'm tired."
"You're an idiot."
"Also possible."
Liam's watching me with the one particular expression he gets when he's about to be annoyingly perceptive. "You're thinking about Sarah."
"I'm not—"
"You've been checking your phone. You smiled like an idiot at something she texted earlier. And you just turned down a gorgeous woman because you're too busy pining for your dog-sitter."
"I'm not pining."
"You're absolutely pining," Aiden agrees. "And you know what? Good. About time you figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
"That you're in love with her." Aiden says it casually, like he's commenting on the weather. "We've all known for months. You're the last one to catch up."
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. Because what would I even say? That they're wrong? That Sarah's just my friend? That I don't think about her constantly, don't watch for her at games, don't count the hours until I get to see her again?
"It's complicated," I say finally.
"It's always complicated," Liam says quietly. There's an edge in his voice — pain, maybe, or regret. "But that doesn't mean it's not worth it."
He would know. We all watched him and Quinn implode two years ago.
"What if I mess it up?" The question comes out before I can stop it. "What if I tell her and she doesn't feel the same way, and I lose her completely?"
"What if you don't tell her and you lose her anyway?" Aiden counters. "What happens when she meets someone else? When some guy who's actually got his shit together asks her out and she says yes because she thinks you're fine with being just friends?"
The thought hits like a check from the blind side. Sarah with someone else. Laughing at someone else's jokes. Texting someone else good morning. Falling asleep on someone else's couch.
"Yeah," Liam says, watching my face. "That's what I thought. So maybe instead of sitting here drinking overpriced whiskey in Calgary, you go back to Austin when this road trip is done and actually do something about it."
"After Vancouver," I say. "After we get home."
"Promise?"
"Promise." I just don't know how I can keep it.
We finish our drinks. Talk about safer topics like Tyler's disaster with the 5 Hole challenge, Graham's new obsession with sourdough bread, Josh's latest foster fail. Normal stuff. Team stuff.
But my mind's already in Austin. Already thinking about walking through my door, seeing Sarah with Ranger, finally telling her what I've been too scared to say.
Sticks is right. I've got to figure my shit out.
After Vancouver. After we get home.
I'm back in my hotel room within an hour, shoulder throbbing despite the painkillers. I've got ice on it, the compression wrap's tight, and I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling trying to convince my body to sleep.
My phone buzzes.
Dave's name flashes first. I swipe it away. Extension talk can wait until I'm not exhausted and beat to hell.
Another buzz.
Ranger’s Mom
Still up?
It’s the middle of the night back in Austin.
Yeah. Can't sleep.
Ranger’s Mom
Shoulder?
Among other things.
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
Ranger’s Mom
Want to talk about it?
I could tell her. Could say I hope I don’t cost us in Vancouver. That I'm exhausted and beat up and questioning every decision I made tonight. That I made a promise to Aiden and Liam that terrifies me. That I miss her so much it's actually embarrassing.
Instead, I chicken out. Keep it all to myself.
Just ready to be home.
Ranger’s Mom
One more game.
One more game.
Ranger’s Mom
For what it's worth, Ranger and I are rooting for you. We'll be watching. He'll be wearing his jersey.
That helps more than you know.
Ranger’s Mom
Yeah?
Yeah.
Three dots appear, then disappear, then nothing. I stare at my phone, willing her to say something else. Anything else.
Another text from Dave sits unanswered above Sarah's messages. Why is he texting me in the middle of the night? The man does not keep normal business hours. He’s always on. Usually, I’m grateful.
Tonight, it’s exhausting. Even moreso than everything else — the shoulder, the promises I can’t keep. The girl I can’t have.
Dave
Just checking in – is the front office giving any hints?
I'm glad he's looking out for me. That he's keeping track of details I don't want to deal with while the season's in full swing.
But seeing it there reminds me that it’s new contract or bust this year. That unrestricted free agency’s around the corner. That in a matter of months, I could be anywhere. Playing for anyone.
I don't want to think about that right now.
Finally, I get a reply from the person I actually want to talk to.
Ranger’s Mom
Get some sleep, Sunshine. You've got a game to win tomorrow.
Yes ma'am.
Ranger’s Mom
And Kevin?
Yeah?
Ranger’s Mom
Come home safe.
I stare at the ceiling, phone still in my hand like a complete idiot. Twenty-four hours. One more game. Then I'm going home to her.
And maybe I'll finally stop being a coward about it.
Ranger would be so disappointed in me right now.