Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Jason
“Salty Salmon?” Abernathy says, pointing at me, eyebrows raised. It’s phrased like a question, but I know him well enough by now to realize it’s more of an order. He points at a few other guys—Bouchard, Dozer, Jenkins, and Bowers, who’re all in various stages of getting dressed after their showers.
Spirits are high off winning our first two preseason games. Even though it doesn’t count toward the road to the Stanley Cup, it sets us up for a good season, which means Coach is happy too.
“Who’s going to the Salmon?” Locke asks, popping up from his seat across the room and pulling a shirt over his head.
“You are,” Abernathy answers. “And I’m buying you a drink.
Those were some great saves you made between the pipes tonight, especially that last one.
” It was the goal that would’ve tied us up had it gotten past Locke.
The puck bounced off the corner and looked like it was going to shoot past him, but he put out his glove and snatched it out of the air before it hit the ice.
Locke grins. “Thanks, Captain.”
“We’re all going,” Abernathy says, no longer asking. “We’ve got a win to celebrate, and Chalmers’ new wife to meet.”
“I gotta make sure she’s up for that,” I say, playing for time.
I wouldn’t mind going and showing her off, but I don’t want her to feel overwhelmed.
Springing the reception on her like I did last week seemed like a lot.
We’ve secured a date and a location—the first weekend of November at an event space east of town near the mountains—and Hailey got a recommendation from Molly via Maggie for an event planner who she met with and hired while I was out of town.
I’m not sure she’s decided whether or not to invite her parents, though. She hasn’t said one way or the other.
My parents are excited to come. I’d let them know why Hailey and I were getting married before it happened.
Even though they’d expressed reservations, they’re not the type to cut me off just because they don’t agree with my choices.
“We love you,” my mom had said, “and you know we’re always in your corner.
We want what’s best for you, always. And if you think this is the best choice, then we’ll have your back no matter what. ”
That’s always been their attitude—supportive while also letting me face the consequences of my choices, both good and bad.
And even though I know they think this was a crazy decision, I still think it was the right one.
I dunno, maybe in a year I’ll feel differently, but knowing Hailey’s on my insurance and accepting my support while she works toward her dreams doesn’t seem like it could ever be the wrong choice.
She hasn’t had the same kind of support I’ve had since Hunter died.
It’s time someone showed up for her the way my family and friends have always shown up for me.
“You better convince her to come celebrate with us,” Abernathy says, putting that edge to his tone he uses when he’s being the captain and not just a friend or teammate.
“Tina’s been dying to see her again since the spa day they did while we were out of town.
She wants to make sure she feels welcome. ”
“She came to the game tonight,” I counter. “Shouldn’t Tina have had the chance to see her tonight?”
He wiggles his phone at me. “She texted. Your girl didn’t sit with the WAGs, so she didn’t get to talk to her, and she’s annoyed.”
“Oh, that’s Marissa’s fault,” Dozer chimes in. “She prefers to sit in general seating. And I know she was picking up Hailey for the game, so they were somewhere about halfway up at center ice. That’s her favorite spot.”
Abernathy points at Dozer. “Good to know. I’ll let Tina know that Hailey was with Marissa. It’ll make her feel better because she doesn’t want her to feel lost and alone or anything. She still feels a little bad that Marissa sat by herself so often at first.”
“She likes to do that, though,” Dozer says. “Tina shouldn’t feel bad about that. She enjoys watching hockey, and she loves live games. Sitting in the crowd is part of what she enjoys.”
Tongue caught between his teeth as he types on his phone, Abernathy nods. “Got it. Well, still. Tina’s the mother hen who wants to protect all the new little chicks, whether they want it or not.”
“Noted,” I say, tying my shoes and standing to grab my jacket and bag. I texted Hailey earlier, but she never responded, so I’m going to just wait until I see her to talk to her about heading to the Salmon.
“Maggie and I are in for the Salmon,” Bouchard says, grinning. “She has to finish up some work first, though, so we might be a little later than everyone else.”
Abernathy waves him off. “That’s fine. As long as you actually show.”
“Why wouldn’t we?” Bouchard asks. “We love the Salmon.”
“It’s been ages since we all went there after a game,” says Bowers. “I’m in.”
Abernathy points at me again. “Don’t let me down, Chalmers.”
I hold up my hands. “No promises, Captain.”
“You’re supposed to say, ‘Aye, aye, Cap’n,’” Dozer stage whispers next to me.
Abernathy grabs a towel off Bowers’ locker and tosses it at his face.
Dozer catches it, but it still whips around and smacks him in the face, and he groans.
“Gross. Bowers dried his balls on this!” And he chucks it at Bowers, but it falls short, landing on the floor in front of Cohen, one of the new guys.
He looks at it, makes a disgusted face, and kicks it away, shaking his head as he turns back to his locker.
“Hey!” Bowers protests. “That’s my lucky towel.”
“Please tell me your lucky towel isn’t like Chalmers’s lucky socks,” Abernathy says, looking stern and diffusing the slight tension caused by Cohen’s refusal to participate in our antics.
He’s been like that since he got here—keeping to himself, rebuffing all offers of friendship, though he hasn’t been an outright asshole to anyone.
Yet. “One person refusing to do laundry is plenty,” Abernathy continues.
“We don’t need your musty towel adding to the locker room funk. ”
“No,” Bowers replies, sounding sulky. “I just don’t like my towel on the dirty floor.”
Blinking at him for a moment, Abernathy just says, “Kay. See all of you at the Salmon.” Then he turns, grabs his gear, and heads for the door.
Dozer leans over. “You think Hailey’ll join us?”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
Hailey’s standing off to the side with Marissa when I exit the locker room to the waiting area for family and friends, and I grin when I see her. She’s talking to Marissa, so she doesn’t notice me at first.
Dozer comes out right behind me, quickly capturing Marissa’s attention with a kiss.
Hailey watches them, her mouth open, since Dozer interrupted their conversation, and blinks a few times before turning to scan the area.
Her face brightens when she sees me, and I close the distance between us, going in for a hug, which also seems to catch her off guard.
“There’s an audience,” I murmur, hoping that provides enough warning before I press a kiss to her unresponsive lips.
Okay, so not really enough warning because when I pull back, she’s blinking up at me, her fingertips covering her mouth, and I’m not sure if it’s to guard against me kissing her again or just an involuntary reaction to her surprise.
I hitch my grin a little higher, hoping I don’t look deranged.
“A bunch of the guys are heading over to the Salty Salmon, and our presence has been forcefully requested by our captain over there.” I hitch my thumb in the direction of Abernathy, who’s talking to his wife, clearly waiting for all of us who’re going to the Salmon to get our shit together and head that way.
“What’s the Salty Salmon?” Hailey asks, sounding uncertain.
“A sports bar. It’s a low-key place. Good drinks.
Good food. The staff knows us and kicks out anyone who tries to get all up in our faces, so we’re not mobbed by super fans who don’t understand boundaries or the kinds of people who take photos and videos designed to make us look bad so they can sell them to tabloids. ”
Her eyes widen. “Does that kind of thing happen a lot?”
I shrug. “It happens. I don’t know about a lot.
It happens to some of us more than others.
I tend to keep to myself more than Bouchard or Jenkins—though Bouchard’s cleaned up his act in the last year, so he’s not a good example anymore.
Either way, Molly, our head of PR, does a good job of keeping a lid on most of that stuff.
But she appreciates it when we make her life easier by not putting ourselves in a position where she has to squash stories before they get big. ”
“Oh, right. You’ve mentioned Molly before and needing to loop her in about us so she can manage the media reaction.”
I grin. “Exactly.” She shifts, and I realize my hands are still on her hips, so I pull them back, but now I don’t know what to do with them. Do I put them in my pockets? Cross my arms? Put my hands on my hips?
“So your captain … Abernathy?” I nod. “He wants everyone to go out for a drink. Is that a normal thing you guys do?”
Lifting one hand, palm up, I shrug. “Not as much the last couple of seasons, but it’s not unheard of.
Really, it’s because he knows you’re here and he’s jealous that Tina already got to meet you.
Plus, he says that she wants to talk to you again and make sure you’re settling in okay and had a good time at your first game. ”
“You should come to the Salmon,” Marissa puts in, clearly eavesdropping. “It’ll be a good time.”
“Maggie and Bouchard are coming too,” I add, hoping that’ll make it feel less overwhelming.
Hailey shrugs. “Sure. Sounds like fun.”
Turning, I give Abernathy a thumbs up. He smiles at me, giving me a thumbs up in return, and we all head to our cars.
“What’d you think of the game?” I ask Hailey as soon as we’re in the car. I’ve been dying to ask since I got to her, but I didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of everyone. Not more than I already was with springing a post-game drink at the Salmon on her.
“It was …” She seems to search for words for a moment. “Fast.”
I laugh at that description. “Hockey is full of action, it’s true.”
“The amount of fighting surprised me,” she said. “I mean, I know hockey has that reputation, but I’ve also heard there’s less than there used to be. I guess ‘less’ is relative, though.”
Grinning, I nod. “For sure. There was really only one fight tonight, though.” One of our new D-men threw down his gloves with one of Calgary’s veteran wingers and got his ass handed to him.
I glance at Hailey to see her looking at me, eyebrows raised. “I think you and I have different definitions of fighting.”
Brows furrowed, I think back over the game. “There was just the one with one of our rookies, Bennett. I can’t think of any other fights. Did I miss one?”
“The one where you got grabbed by the jersey? And then Dozer came flying at the guy and put him in a headlock?”
“Oh, that wasn’t a fight. That was just roughing.”
She chuckles. “Just roughing,” she repeats and clears her throat. “Uh, anywhere else, that’d be considered fighting.”
I shrug. “Everyone kept their gloves on. The refs broke those up right away. The penalties were for roughing, not fighting.”
“Uh-huh. Okay.” She holds up her hands. “I’m just saying, though. Roughing and fighting aren’t vastly different, gloves on or off.”
Shrugging again, I shake my head. “If you say so.” It’s not the same thing, but she’s new to the sport, so I don’t feel the need to argue the difference.
“It was fun watching you play, though,” she adds after a moment.
I smile at her. “Good. I’m glad you had a good time.”