Chapter 49 - Grayson
Grayson
It was amazing how easy my job became when the rest of my life was stable.
When everything was right in the world, and I had an amazing woman waiting for me, my job swinging a hockey stick seemed simple.
Game six was at home in front of an energetic Frost Bank Center crowd. I didn’t need to search for Josie among the crowd; I knew she was there, watching down on me, and that’s all the support I needed.
The Oilers played tough, tying the score in the third period and sending the game into overtime. But it felt like we were the team of destiny, that nothing could stop us. Even the fans seemed to buzz with electricity, like they knew there was no way we could lose this game.
Three minutes into overtime, Mason and I were on the attack. He passed it to me to take the shot, but I faked it and passed back to Mason instead, letting him score the game winner.
Being captain of the team meant lifting up my teammates, after all.
The next morning, we flew to Edmonton for game seven. Josie rode with me to the arena, where the team was meeting before taking the bus to the airport. I told her she didn’t need to come, but she had insisted—and now that she was here, I was glad for the few extra minutes we were sharing together.
“You could always come with us,” I suggested. “Say the word and I’ll book you a flight.”
She smiled wryly. “Let’s not have a repeat of the last Edmonton trip I went on. People have finally stopped making mean comments on my videos. The last thing I want is to get blamed for the team losing tomorrow night.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You think we’re going to lose?”
“I think you’re going to kick their asses back to the stone age.” She leaned in and brushed her lips against mine. “But only if I stay home.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you’d better be watching the game.”
“We’ll see,” she teased. “I don’t really like hockey.”
I smiled on the entire flight north. Josie and I still had so much to discuss about us, but for now it was a comforting feeling knowing that she was mine. That she would be waiting when we returned to Texas, win or lose.
I was starting to understand the appeal of a long-term relationship.
The next night, I was at the arena doing my warm-ups with the rest of the team before the game. There was a nervous energy among us, but we were all excited, too. Eager to get out there and fight for a chance to advance to the next round.
There were many different kinds of team captains in the league.
I rarely gave speeches; I preferred to flex my leadership on the ice, where it was really needed.
But tonight felt different. This was a pivotal game for our fledgling franchise, and the stakes were so much higher than any individual game.
Tonight, our future would be written.
In the locker room before lineups were announced, I cleared my throat and stood up on a bench to address the team. Everyone slowly turned to face me, surprised by what I was doing.
“Oh fuck,” Mason whispered to someone else. “Grayson’s gonna give a speech!”
“I don’t do this often, and with good reason,” I said loudly, my voice carrying across the room.
“We’re about to play game seven. The pressure is higher than normal.
The fans out there? They’re going to be louder, angrier, more intense.
Every second of game footage that is recorded tonight will later be scrutinized by the teams of nerds that work in analytics.
But no matter what happens, whether we win or lose, whether it’s a close game or a blowout, I want you to know one thing. Just one thing.”
I paused for dramatic effect while gazing around the room.
“I’m proud of each and every one of you. I feel incredibly lucky to wear the same uniform as you, and I’m honored to call you my teammates. Even Mason.”
That drew a few chuckles.
“I’ll be proud of you no matter what,” I reiterated. Then I allowed a slow smile to spread across my face. “But I’ll be really fucking happy if we destroy these Alberta fuckheads on their home goddamn ice! LET’S FUCKING GO.”
Everyone pumped their fists and cheered, and patted my back as I hopped down and returned to my locker. It felt inadequate. I wasn’t good at speeches. But it seemed to have done the job.
“Five minutes until lineups!” one of the assistants shouted. “Be ready!”
I sat in front of my locker and switched out of my warmup jersey and into the game jersey. When I looked up, Mason was standing next to me with a giftwrapped box in his hand. The tag said, “Open Before Game Seven.”
“The fuck is this?”
“A present. Duh,” Mason replied.
I took the box from his hand and tossed it into the locker. It was heavier than I expected. “I told you. I don’t want any gifts for being your roommate. At least wait until the season is over.”
“That’s not from me, Captain,” Mason replied. “It’s from the only other person on the planet who tolerates your grumpy-ass attitude.”
I realized who he meant, and quickly reached into my locker to retrieve the gift.
“You know, it kind of hurts how dismissive you were when you thought it was from me, and how excited you are now that you know it’s from Josie.”
“She’s hotter than you,” I replied while tearing open the paper.
“An extremely valid point.”
Inside the box was a jar of JIF peanut butter, and a package of Reese’s Cups. The Easter kind that were shaped like eggs. There was a tiny little card inside, which I unfolded to reveal a few handwritten words.
Hope you’re not allergic.
Mason was leaning forward to look into the box. “Kind of a weird gift.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re not supposed to.”
He pointed. “I really hope the jar of peanut butter isn’t a sex thing.”
I glared at him, which sent him running away to his own locker.
While opening one of the Reese’s Cups, I texted Josie.
Me: For future reference, I prefer crunchy peanut butter over creamy.
Josie: Um EXCUSE ME? Crunchy is disgusting.
Me: Crunchy is the best kind of peanut butter and it’s not even close.
Josie: If you gave a bag of peanuts to an old man and told him to chew them for five minutes, then had him spit them out into a jar, that’s somehow less disgusting than actual crunchy peanut butter.
Me: You’ve never been more wrong. But I do appreciate the Reese’s.
Josie: Shouldn’t you be preparing for the game or something?
Me: I’m allowing myself to be distracted before lineups are called.
Josie: NO
Josie: THIS IS THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN.
Me: I agree, but now all I can think about is how you have extremely wrong opinions about peanut butter.
Josie: Oh my God you’re so freaking stubborn.
Me: Deep down, you know I’m right :-)
Josie: Wrong.
Me: Okay, gotta go. Wish me luck.
Josie: I’ll wish you luck if you admit creamy is superior than crunchy.
Me: Sorry, but I cannot tell a lie.
Josie: Fuck you :-)
Me: Fuck you more :-)
“What are you grinning about?” Mason asked. “The peanut butter is totally a sex thing, isn’t it?”
I put my phone away and slammed my locker door. “I’ll tell you about it after we win this game.”