He kissed her neck. “Don’t make me the enforcer, though. Turns out I’m not that good at figuring out who to hit.”
“We’ll train you up.” She looked at her watch. “You don’t need to be back here for more than three hours. Can we get out of here? If you’re tired, we could take a nap.”
Leo shook his head. “Can’t nap with you. I’ll get ideas. And I can’t get ideas right before a game.”
She rolled her red eyes at him. “Fine. The hotel has a climbing wall. I’m a little rusty but I can probably still take you.”
“No you can’t,” he said, the competitive instinct speaking up right away. “I only have sneakers, though.”
“Me, too,” she countered. “So it’s a fair fight.” She slid off his lap and off the table.
He stood up for the first time in an hour. Maybe he was still a little shaky around the edges. But he felt mostly solid. “Fine. A quick climb to victory, and then we’ll find a snack.” Taking her hand, he followed her out of the room.
* * *
Leo lost the climbing wall race. But he won the coin flip to decide where to eat. He chose a Chinese restaurant, though, because his girl hadn’t had a dumpling infusion in a couple of days, and he liked to watch her dip them in the sauce with her chopsticks.
When they were finished, though, he caught her eyeing him over the rim of her teacup.
“What?” he asked.
Her eyes dipped. “Are you, uh, bringing someone named Honey to the benefit when we get back? Any chance I could talk you into taking me?”
Aw. Leo set down his water glass and grinned at her. “Georgia, there’s nobody with that god-awful name. You were supposed to figure that out.”
“I was?”
“Hell yes. You know that joke? Honey Cove is your stripper name. Your first pet and the street you grew up on. I thought you’d know.”
Georgia slapped a hand in front of her mouth and giggled. “That’s funny. Except the dog’s name was Sweetie Pie.”
Leo barked out a laugh. “Really? Hell, I was close.”
She tipped her head back and laughed. “Not close enough.”
“Shit. You really thought I’d bring someone named Honey Cove to that party?” He balled up his napkin and tossed it playfully across the table. “You must think very highly of me.”
“You are a catch. I swear.”
Laughing, he signaled for the check.
By the time he made it back to the rink, the day’s emotional turmoil had begun to fade. The ache in his chest was replaced by a healthy amount of pregame tension. He changed into workout gear and did some stretches in the dressing room. Then he followed a few teammates to the basement room where the yoga class had been held earlier—the one he’d freaked out in on his way to attend.
O’Doul stood holding a soccer ball under his arm as the circle formed. “You start, rookie,” he said, chucking the ball to Leo. There was no malice in it, though.
Leo took a quick glance around the circle of faces and he liked what he saw. Just a bunch of guys trying to live the dream, the same as he was. With any luck, he’d get to stand in this circle for a good long time. “All right,” he said. “Stay sharp.” He tossed the ball up and then popped it with his knee across the circle to O’Doul. Who headed it to Beacon, who tried to kick it and missed.
“Goddamn,” O’Doul said with a shake of his head. “Good thing he’s good with his hands.”
There was a round of chuckles, and then the game began again. Leo lost himself in the pure, silly pursuit of keeping that black and white ball in the air, and at least for now, all was well.
* * *
On the ice that night, though, everything was just a little off.
Passes didn’t connect. Shots didn’t go in. Coach Karl was a snarling, ornery wreck, and his attitude seemed to hang over the bench like a cloud.
Weirdly, Leo had a great night. He scored one of the Bruisers’ two goals, and he did a good job of anticipating even the ill-timed passes his teammates made. Maybe everyone else was stressed out, but he felt more relaxed than he had in weeks.
It wasn’t enough to save the game, but he helped keep their loss to a single goal. It was something. And he was in a mood to count his blessings tonight.
The dressing room was somber after the game. Before he got too far stripping off his pads, Georgia asked him to step into the hallway and talk to a reporter.
This he did without pinching her backside, although in her sexy publicist skirt, it was quite hard to resist. “We fought hard out there,” he said into the microphone. “We’ll get ’em next time.”
It wasn’t the most original statement, but he was too distracted by Georgia’s smile to say anything meaningful.
Back in the locker room faces were long. And they only grew longer when Coach, Hugh, and Nate all entered the room, standing together, facing the team.
One by one conversations died as everyone gave his attention to the men in charge. “We have a change to announce,” Hugh Major said.
Oh. Fuck. Leo braced himself.
“Silas Kelly will head to Hartford tomorrow morning. I would like to personally thank him for his service, and his excellent attitude at every turn. And if we make it to the postseason, we’ll probably see him in Brooklyn again.”
O’Doul began to clap, and Leo joined immediately. But his mind whirled. Silas gone? The last-minute roster changes had begun. Karl obviously wanted to give someone else the backup job going into the play-offs.
Across the room, Silas was already stuffing things into his duffel. They’d probably only told him five minutes ago. Now it was back to the minor leagues. His two-way contract made that an easy decision for the team. But then . . . Leo felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. If Karl went shopping for a goalie, he might trade Leo to get one.
And poor Silas. Leo felt terrible for his roommate of four weeks. This business was rough. Nobody was ever safe.
When Leo came out of the showers a few minutes later, Silas was beside his locker, tossing gear into a hockey bag. He’d have to carry it out himself tonight, and put it on a plane to Hartford tomorrow.
“Man, I’m sorry to lose you,” Leo said. “This should have been the start of a beautiful relationship.”
Silas gave a bark of laughter. “Don’t get all teary on me now. And hey—my buddy thinks he’s getting traded to Anaheim now. You might be off the hook.”
“We’ll see I guess.” Leo wasn’t counting on anything after Coach’s outburst today. At this point, he was probably willing to trade him to a beer league just to get him the hell away from Georgia.