14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Kevin
I'm standing in Utah’s visiting locker room trying not to check my phone for the fifteenth time in the last hour.
"Sunshine, you good?" Liam's taping his stick, watching me with annoying levels of perception for a guy whose nickname is literally Crash.
"Fine."
"You've looked at your phone four times since we got off the bus."
"So?"
"So, you never look at your phone this much once we're at the arena." He sets down the tape. "Except lately. Since Vancouver, you've been glued to that thing like it's gonna disappear."
"Drop it, Callahan."
"Can't drop when it’s this entertaining." He grins. "You gonna actually talk to Sarah, or you just gonna keep letting your feelings make you stupid?"
As if it was that easy. Sarah wore my jersey two nights ago when we played in Vegas.
Changed everything about that game. And as Crash so fuckingly annoyingly pointed out, no, we haven't talked about it — we’ve just texted normal shit about Ranger, about the rescue, about what I want Whole Foods to deliver so my fridge isn’t completely empty when I get home.
Neither of us has mentioned the fact that she put on my number and I played my best third period of the season.
Maybe my best third period in years.
My phone buzzes. I grab it before I can stop myself.
Ranger's Mom
Ranger says good luck tonight.
There's a photo attached. Ranger on my couch — where he knows he’s not supposed to be — in his little jersey, with his tongue out in a dopey grin.
But in the background — barely visible, draped over the arm of the couch — there's definitely another jersey.
Navy and burnt orange. Mine.
I zoom in.
She would only have it out if she was planning on wearing it, right?
"Tell your girlfriend to send you naked pics, not dog pics." Liam's reading over my shoulder like an asshole.
"Personal space, Crash."
"Can't help it when you're grinning at your phone like that." His own expression turns wicked. "She at your place?"
"She's dog-sitting. Where else would she be?"
"And that's your jersey on the couch." He leans back, way too pleased with himself. "That's why you've been playing like someone set your skates on fire."
"I always play well, fucker."
"You play differently now. Like you've got something to lose." He taps his stick on my shin guard. "Or someone."
I flip him off and turn back to my phone.
Tell him thanks. You watching tonight?
Three dots appear immediately. Disappear. Appear again.
Ranger's Mom
Maybe. Depends on if there's anything good on TV.
I grin once again, despite Liam still hovering. Nosy bastard.
Heard the division-leading Stampede are playing Utah tonight. Could be entertaining.
Ranger's Mom
I heard Utah's on a bit of a heater — a tough opponent these days.
We're tougher.
I type out: Not as tough as waiting three more days to get home to you.
Delete it.
Especially if you're watching. In my jersey. Thinking about what happens when I get home.
Delete that too.
Tougher when you're watching in nothing but my number.
Delete. She needs me to play it cool. Not push.
But my thumbs are already moving again.
Besides, I've got something they don't.
Ranger's Mom
And what's that?
Best good luck charm in the league.
Her dots dance on the screen.
Ranger's Mom
Confident.
Inspired.
Long pause. Those three dots appear and disappear about six times before her next text.
Ranger's Mom
By what?
By you wearing my jersey. By you in my bed. By the fact that every time I close my eyes I see you and I can't think straight anymore.
But I can't say that.
By winning. Always winning.
Smooth, St. Clair. Real smooth.
Ranger's Mom
Good answer, Sunshine.
"Phones away, gentlemen," Coach Gagnon calls out with a hint of Québécois on each word. "Let's talk strategy."
I put my phone in my stall, but my brain's still on that photo. On whether she's wearing it right now. On whether she'll put it on for the game.
Aiden catches my eye across the room and raises an eyebrow.
He knows. They all know.
But nobody pushes before a game. Everybody knows you don’t mess with a good luck charm.
The first period is a grind.
Utah comes out flying. Sarah wasn’t wrong. Their top line's gotten on a heater this month, and tonight, they’re pressing hard in our zone. I’m keeping tabs on their center who's got about twenty pounds on me and keeps running his mouth. I ignore him. Stay between him and the net. Read the play.
"Heard Austin hasn't offered you shit for a renewal yet. Makes sense now."
Yeah, I’m just gonna keep ignoring that trash. Clear the puck. Get it to Aiden.
We're down 1-0 going into intermission.
I'm off the ice first, heading straight for my stall. My phone's right where I left it.
Ranger's Mom
That was a rough period. You okay?
She's watching.
My entire body warms.
Fine. Just getting started.
Ranger's Mom
You kinda let their third line camp in the slot there in the last five minutes.
You analyzing my game now?
Ranger's Mom
Ranger is. He's very concerned about your gap control.
I laugh out loud. Liam looks over from across the room but doesn't say anything.
Tell Ranger I'll tighten it up.
Three dots appear and disappear about four times.
Ranger's Mom
He believes in you. He'll be watching.
Just him?
Long pause. Then the response comes.
Ranger's Mom
I might be watching too.
In what?
Ranger's Mom
Why?
Just wondering what game-day attire looks like for Ranger's co-parent.
Ranger's Mom
Leggings and a shirt. Very boring.
She's lying. I can feel it through the phone.
A T-shirt?
No response for a full minute. I start retaping my stick while I wait.
Finally my phone buzzes.
Ranger's Mom
Does it matter?
Might. We’ve discussed superstitions and good luck charms before.
Ranger's Mom
Kevin St. Clair. Focus on your game.
I am focused.
Ranger's Mom
On hockey.
That too.
"Sunshine, put the damn phone down," Quinn says, walking by me to grab Brad from the training staff so she can get a report on the stitches Matty earned about halfway through the first, courtesy of a high stick. "You're making heart eyes at your screen and it's unprofessional."
I lock my phone as Coach walks in, but I can't stop grinning.
Second period, I play like my entire career depends on it.
Every shift, I'm thinking about Sarah on my couch — maybe in my jersey, definitely lying to me about it — and knowing she's watching. I break up the odd-man rushes. Get an assist on Aiden's power play goal. Force a turnover that leads to Liam burying one top shelf.
We're up 2-1 going into second intermission.
This time I don't even pretend not to grab my phone immediately.
Ranger's Mom
Better. Much better. Ranger approves.
Still in your boring T-shirt?
Ranger's Mom
Why are you obsessed with what I'm wearing?
Because I'm trying to figure out if you're lying to me.
Ranger's Mom
What would I be lying about?
Whether you're wearing my jersey.
Dots appear. Disappear. Appear again for what feels like forever.
Ranger's Mom
Why would I wear your jersey?
Because you wore it for Vegas
Because it worked
Because you told me you would
Because maybe you want to
Ranger's Mom
That's a lot of assumptions, St. Clair.
Am I wrong?
No response.
Sarah
Still nothing.
Are you wearing it?
The three dots appear and I'm holding my breath without meaning to.
Ranger's Mom
Would it help you play better if I was?
I send back a gif of a yellow Minion doing a victory dance.
Ranger's Mom
That's not an answer.
Yes. It would help
Now answer the question, Townsend
Those dots dance for an eternity.
Then my phone lights up with a photo.
Sarah. Reflected in my bathroom mirror. Hair in a messy bun. No makeup. Wearing my jersey and nothing else visible except bare legs that go on for far longer than any five-foot-two woman should be able to claim.
There's nothing subtle about this image.
And I asked for it.
While surrounded by my entire team in a locker room.
Fuck.
Fuck me.
Ranger's Mom
You asked.
I'm in a locker room.
Ranger's Mom
So?
So I can’t exactly react appropriately
Ranger's Mom
What would be appropriate?
Driving back to Austin right now. Forgetting the third period exists. Finding her in my jersey and showing her exactly what this photo is doing to me.
Not something I can take care of from Utah.
Ranger's Mom
Sounds like a personal problem.
You're killing me.
Ranger's Mom
Good luck in the third, Sunshine.
I lock my phone and press my palms against my eyes.
I'm half-hard in a locker room. From a photo. Like I'm sixteen again.
"You good, Kev?" Aiden's watching me. He’s officially using his captain look, sizing me up and leaving no doubt he knows exactly what's happening.
"Fine."
"Your face is red."
"It's warm in here."
"We play on ice, Sunshine." He punches me in the shoulder. "But sure. Let's go with that."
Third period is a blur.
I play like a man defending in the last seconds of Game Seven of the Cup finals — every shift matters, every second counts. Block two shots that leave bruises I'll feel tomorrow. Get another assist when I spring Liam on a breakaway.
When the final horn sounds and we've won 4-1, the first thing I do is look for a camera.
I point. Right at the lens.
Hoping she's watching. Hoping she knows.
All of it was for her.
The team's at some sports bar two blocks from the hotel, celebrating the win. Music's loud, drinks are flowing, and everyone's riding the high of putting two points up in the standings and improving our lead over Colorado.
I'm nursing a beer at the bar when Aiden slides onto the stool next to me.
"The celebration’s at the table behind you, Loverboy."
"Cute, Sticks. I'm here, aren't I?"
"Physically." He flags down the bartender, orders a whiskey. "But your head's somewhere else. Or with someone else."
I take a drink instead of answering.
"Look, I'm happy for you," Aiden continues once his drink arrives. "Sarah's great. But we need to talk about timing."
"Not this again."
"Yeah, this again." His voice drops lower. "You're in a contract year, Sunshine. And you're playing out of your mind — the assists tonight, great defensive game. Management notices when you play like this."
"So what?"