“I’ve never had any complaints,” I said. “If I tell a beautiful woman I play professional hockey, she usually follows me home to count my scars.”
“Oh yeah?” Clover playfully interrogated me, flipping on the overhead light to shine it in my eyes. “Is that what you’ve been doing in Atwood without me? Are you…dating someone? And didn’t tell me?”
Was it me, or did she seem too curious? I turned the light off before she woke the rest of the plane.
“Do you think I was in any condition to perform?” I shifted in my seat.
Clover’s giggle was the midnight cup of coffee that’d keep me up through dawn. “You’re full of surprises, Adrian. And if I hadn’t taken the time off to help you recover, I’m sure dozens of pretty puck bunnies would’ve lined up to give you a sponge bath.”
Probably. But it wasn’t my style. I was usually too focused on the next workout, next game, next win to let myself get distracted by a quick fling with a quicker woman.
But this wasn’t a discussion I’d ever had with Clover. We kept one sacred rule: keep it superficial. Our friendship was strictly platonic, enforced with soft chides and the occasional fingers plugged in our ears. Last thing I needed was a seedy locker-room story or a jaded ex-girlfriend revealing my preferences to Clover.
Or imagining her in their place…head down, ass up, begging for everything I could give but harder, fiercer, messier.
Exactly the wrong fantasies to have of my innocent best friend.
So, I hid the truth from her. I wasn’t about to let anything ruin her opinion of me—especially the truth about my sexual appetite. After all, she’d followed me around for the last twenty-some years—ever since kindergarten when we’d both discovered that we hated cheese on our pizzas. Would’ve been a shame to scare her off now.
The plane whined a constant hum—loud, but not nearly loud enough to drown out the clicking of Clover’s nails, drumming against the arm rest. I took her hand. To my surprise, she curled her fingers into mine and squeezed.
“So…I’d like you to keep an open mind,” she said.
That didn’t bode well. “Should I grab the blindfold or the earplugs?”
“Neither…but I can get you some alcohol if it makes it easier.”
“You’ve picked the strangest time for a heart-to-heart chat…unless you’re worried I might try to escape?”
“I showed you where the emergency exits are.”
“Thinkin’ I might jump?”
“Think I wouldn’t jump after you?”
I planned on it. “You’ve always been my parachute.”
“Yes.” Clover tickled her fingers over mine. “Remember that. Also remember that I hooked you up and seated you in First Class. Your comfort is my utmost priority.”
Didn’t like the way that sounded. “Comfortable would’ve been you frisking me instead of the gargoyle with the metal detector.”
“Never know…” She giggled. “You might get your wish.”
“My wish is to get some sleep and talk about important things on the ground.”
“When have you ever known me to wait for anything?”
This was true. One of her many quirks I had to convince myself was still fun and cute after midnight.
But something was bothering her. Normally, she’d never risk damaging her perfect manicure with a nibble of her pinky nail.
“Look,” I said. “You didn’t need to stuff me onto a plane. If something’s wrong, just tell me. I would’ve dropped everything to help.”
She softly sighed. “This isn’t a problem, per se. More a solution. Something you could do for me…but it is an unusual request.”
Unusual for her? Christ, I was in trouble.
“Okay…” Her composure broke for only a moment as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt, teasing me with a brief glimpse of her toned thigh. “Here goes. Now that you’re living in Ironfield, I’d like to see you more.”
Well, hell. That was one of the perks of signing with the team based out of her airline’s hub.
“Done,” I said. “See? That wasn’t so hard. Besides, it’ll be good to have you close by. I’ll need help peeling myself off the ice. Gotta lot of work to do this offseason.”
Clover frowned. “You promised me you’d take it easy. That injury—”
“—It’s fine. I’m completely healed, and I’m focusing on the game. Signing with the Forge was a blessing in disguise. Now everyone can forget what happened last season. Far too many people got involved with what happening in my pants.”
“True. It’s best if that information stays between you, your doctor, and me.”
“You?”
Clover snuck a peek at my lap, as if she could assess the damage herself. “It was a bad hit, taking the puck…there.”
The hit wasn’t nearly as bad as the embarrassment of having to discuss the injury with every doctor, trainer, coach, and media representative.
And Clover.
Though she was the one who had stayed by my side during the recovery, fetching ice packs, pain meds, and keeping me fed. She’d helped me hobble to the bathroom, fluffed my pillows at night, and never once complained about taking care of me. But I hadn’t asked her for the help. It was like she simply materialized in my home, bearing macaroni and cheese and promising to sleep on a cot beside my bed in case I needed anything during the nights.
I owed her big.
And the repayment was about to come due.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said.
“I’m worried about parts of you.”
This ended the conversation. “What’s your proposition?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Just ask me.”
“Answer my question first.”
Christ.
“The chairman and the board are fine.” Wasn’t sure how many times I had to share that agenda with her. Hopefully one day she’d believe me. “I can skate. I can play. I can take a hit.”
“What else can you do?”
I laughed. “You want a demonstration?”
Her eyebrow arched. “I might.”
First class offered a lot of amenities, but I doubted that was one of the perks.
“Don’t tempt me.” I shifted in my seat as the conversation roused the star of the show. Not the conversation I thought we’d be having. “I’ve been looking for a test run.”
“Have you…tried it with anyone lately?”
Dangerous conversation. “Does a urologist count?”
“Depends. How much is he charging you?”
Figured it’d be my first born, but who the hell knew if that was possible anymore. “Insurance paid the fees, but no one covered my dignity.”
She batted my shoulder. “It was a fluke accident. And it all worked out. You’ve got a new team. Bigger contract. Best friend at your beck and call.”
“Always admired your optimism.”
“You’re gonna do great here. Ironfield has the arena, the uniforms, the team. But you know what it really needs?”
“A fan base?”
She flinched. At least I wasn’t the only one concerned about creating a hockey team in a town that bled football.