Callan had met up with Christian a few times over the past few weeks. He felt the practice was helping them both improve. Christian was one of the top goalies in the league. Figuring out how to score on him amped up Callan’s shooting ability, just as learning how to defend the goal against shots that got past him improved Christian’s goaltending.
“You ready?” he called out to Christian a few minutes later.
“Yep.”
Callan glided out to center ice, as comfortable in his skates as he was his shoes. He slid his stick along the ice, guiding the puck forward as he began his approach. Treating it like a penalty shot, he allowed his stick to dance around the puck as he picked up speed, giving the puck enough action to attempt to distract Christian, but not so much he lost control. As he got within a couple feet of the net, he spotted his opening and took his shot.
“Nope,” Christian said, gloving the puck and tossing it back to the ice.
Undeterred, Callan returned to center ice where he had ten more pucks waiting for him. He ended up scoring two of the ten remaining shots.
“Not bad,” Christian said as he lifted his face mask and reached for the squirt bottle of Gatorade he kept on the back of the net.
“Not good either,” declared a heavily accented voice.
Callan and Christian turned to see a trio of their teammates skating onto the ice. The one who had issued the comment was Elias Bouchard, the French-Canadian left winger who had played on the second line most of the previous season. He was buddy-buddy with Knox, which meant he often had something to say about Callan’s gameplay. Joining Elias on the ice were Aron Fischer and Ian Tremblay, the two talented forwards who most often played with him on the second line.
Callan’s back teeth set over the comment. It was Elias’ spot he was gunning for at the moment, so getting smack talk from him in front of Ian and Aron stung more than he wanted to admit.
“How would you know, Bouch?” Christian countered. “You weren’t out here.”
“I know because it was Murph,” Elias said with a short laugh as he joined the other two men in starting his warmups. “What are you even doing out here, Murph? You’ve still got a couple weeks to nail all the pussy in Atlanta before you have to report in.”
Callan’s grip tightened on his stick.
“Stuff it, Bouch,” Ian said as he skated around his teammate. “Murph got the same talk from management that we all did. He’s obviously doing something about it. That’s all we can fucking hope for this season.”
“Ja, man,” said the German center, Aron Fischer. “You think you can do better against Reinhardt? Put the puck where your mouth is.”
Callan’s grip eased. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from most of the team regarding his new approach to his gameplay. None of them had any reason to support him in his goals or even believe he would stick to them. He hadn’t shown anything like this kind of dedication throughout his career, so why should his teammates or the coaching staff trust that he’d keep at it now?
Learning that at least Aron and Ian weren’t judging him based on his past gave him hope that he might get more support than he’d thought.
Elias’ color rose when he realized his teammates weren’t going to join him in mocking Callan. “Fine. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
The words of challenge lit a fire in Callan. As his teammates completed their on-ice warmups, he lined up a few pucks at center ice and looked at Christian, who nodded and lowered his face mask. Callan started his approach, his movements clean and precise.
Christian stopped his first three attempts. Then Callan managed to sneak one by him over his left shoulder.
“Nice move, Murph,” Ian said, skating up to him with a raised glove.
Callan met him and bumped his own glove against Ian’s. “Thanks.”
“That’s one out of four, Bouch,” Aron said, lining up the pucks on the center line. “Meet it or beat it.”
Elias snorted. “Piece of cake.”
Callan almost laughed when he saw Christian’s fierce answering grin. Christian wasn’t typically a guy who let his emotions interfere with his gameplay, but Elias had flipped his competitive switch. When Christian got into position in the crease, Callan already knew how this was going to end. He skated over to the side with Aron and Ian and watched it play out.
Elias’ first attempt went wide of the net, not making any contact with Christian at all.
His second attempt ricocheted off Christian’s shin pad.
He lost control of his third attempt and ended up skating too close to the net to take the shot.
His last attempt, aimed where Callan made his score, ended up right in Christian’s glove.
“Looks like it’s a good thing you’re getting some work in before training camp, Bouch,” Callan commented.
“Ja, man,” Aron agreed. “That third approach was scheisse.”
“Total shit,” Ian seconded with a laugh. “Now enough dicking around. Let’s get to work. Murph, you in?”
Ignoring the glare Elias gave him, he replied, “Sure.”
“Good. Time for some drills.”
Callan and Christian stuck around another hour before calling it quits. They didn’t want to overdo it with the preseason right around the corner. Their bodies needed to rest up as much as possible for the grueling months to come.
“Thanks for coming out this morning,” Callan said to his friend as they headed to the locker room.
“Sure. It was actually fun.”
“Yeah. Damn, I’m so fucking glad you stopped Bouch’s shots,” he said, giving Christian’s shoulder a hard shove.
“I’d’ve used my balls to stop the puck if I’d had to,” Christian muttered, proving what a solid friend he was. “What a prick.”
They reached the locker room and hit the showers. Once Callan was changed back into his clothes, he pulled out his cell phone. His heart jumped when he saw a text from Roxy.
Let’s meet at my office at 5. Dinner before house tours?
He grinned. She hadn’t even given him a hard time about the groceries.
Sounds good. C U then, he texted back.
He wondered what kind of surprise he could cook up for her between now and then. He had learned she loved spontaneity. He could stop by the gourmet cupcake place she had mentioned and bring her one. She’d enjoy that.
“You texting Roxy?” Christian asked as he approached.
“Yeah.”
“You should see yourself right now, man. You look like…”
Callan glanced at him when he trailed off. Christian’s eyebrows lifted over whatever he read on Callan’s face.
“Oh. Well, shit.”
Callan laughed as they headed out to the parking lot. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. You know I’ve been spending a lot of time with her. Haven’t you wondered why I haven’t dragged you to the clubs lately?”
“I guess. I just thought it was related to the team’s mandate, you know? But, hey, that’s great. She’s the perfect match for you.”
“I agree. Now I just have to convince her of that.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Just that we’re not quite on the same page regarding our relationship.”