“It’s not irrational. I get it, I do.” Daniel kissed him on the top of his head. “Thanks for mentioning it, though. Even if I can’t fix it, I’m glad I know what you’re thinking.”
Micah still felt a bit unsettled, but there was a relief—however momentary—at having owned up to his feelings. That definitely made him feel better. “Well, regardless, I do have a very important question for you.” He took Daniel’s hand in his and squeezed it. “Dudley, my precious giant turtle, is cleared for release in July. They’re making it a whole thing—party, gala, whatever—for fundraisers. Would you like to come with me?”
Daniel’s smile was like the sun breaking through after a late afternoon shower. “Of course. I’ll be here in July no matter what, and I’m so here for giant turtle release parties. It’s a date.” Daniel leaned in and kissed him.
Micah kissed him back.
It was a tentative thing, a future promise to hold on to. Maybe that was all he could count on, at least for now, but it would have to be enough.
Chapter Nineteen
Over the last couple of months, it had become a ritual of sorts for Daniel and Demetrius to meet for lunch once or twice a week. Sometimes other players from the Thunder tagged along, mostly Spacek, the starting goalie, but he wasn’t much of a talker. Whether the strong-and-silent vibe was simply his nature or due to his thick Czech accent and limited English, Daniel didn’t know, but what Spacek had in common with them was that they all seemed to feel like the misfits of a larger, more awkward motley crew of players.
As they headed into February and the trade deadline loomed closer without the team having any hope of securing a playoff spot, Daniel had slowly grown accustomed to the disappointing idea that the team just wasn’t going to gel this season. He’d tried to be a motivator and influence the mood in the locker room, and it had worked to a degree, especially after his talk with Cedric, but there were times when a team didn’t mesh for whatever reason. This was, unfortunately, one of those times.
In hockey, chemistry wasn’t something that could be faked or forced, but the Thunder had sure as hell tried anyway. The coaches had switched up lines and defensive partners, shifting players around like chess pieces, sometimes more than once over the course of a single game, but to limited success. The team didn’t have a combination of forwards that could compete with the top lines in the league. They had players that worked somewhat well together, but none that truly shone and made each other better. And there was the rub, at the end of the day. When three forwards with amazing chemistry played together, everyone’s stats improved. They became a cohesive unit instead of people who just so happened to be on the ice at the same time.
Without those sorts of lines, the Thunder had nothing—and it showed in their rankings.
When Daniel entered the restaurant on this particular Tuesday in early February, he knew the instant he saw Demetrius’s face that something was up.
“How’s it going, D?” he asked, holding out his fist for a bump across the table.
“Can’t complain, Bellzie.” Demetrius rubbed a hand over his closely shorn curls. A half-empty glass of beer sat in front of him, bright gold liquid with a thin ring of fizzy white bubbles around the edges. “And I really mean that today. I got an offer I plan to accept, and seeing as we’ve become friends, I wanted you to be the first to know.”
Daniel’s stomach dropped even as he forced a smile to his face. “That’s great, man. What team?”
“The Monarchs,” Demetrius said, grinning. “It’s a nice deal, too, not some fire sale type of shit just to strengthen their roster for the playoffs.”
“Congrats!” Daniel looked around. “Let me order a drink and we’ll make a toast.”
A server came over and Daniel ordered an IPA instead of his usual light lager. He was happy for his friend—the Minnesota Monarchs were a solid team and had already clinched their playoff berth—but he was going to need something with a little more oomph for this conversation. Demetrius was the only player on the team, so far, who Daniel had felt an actual connection with.
“I’m glad for you,” Daniel said when he had his pale ale in hand. “You deserve this, D.” He lifted his drink. “To a long playoff run.”
Demetrius clinked their glasses together. “Thanks, man. You know, you deserve better than this crap with the Thunder, too. I know Tex has cleaned up his act a bit since you tried to set him straight, but he’s still struggling with that attitude problem of his.”
“Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that.”
Demetrius snorted. “Or in a season, apparently. I mean, at least your break will start early. Unless you think a trade offer might be coming your way, too?”
Daniel shrugged and sipped at his beer. “Not sure. I guess I’ll be hearing soon, if so. The deadline is in a few weeks.”
Demetrius gave him a shrewd look. “I don’t think you’re really feeling as casual about it as you’re trying to pretend right now.”
“I’m not,” Daniel admitted. “I’m on a one-year contract with the Thunder. If they don’t want me next season and I don’t get any other offers, I’ll have some soul-searching to do.”
“Man, it’s too soon for you to be thinking about the R word,” Demetrius said with a frown. “You just won a Cup last year.”
“I’m also over a decade older than you,” Daniel said, smiling wryly. “As much as it sucks to say it, I think I might be past my prime.”
“You’re still better than most of the dudes on the Thunder, and that’s not me blowing smoke.”
Daniel ducked his head as a flush worked its way up his neck. “I appreciate you saying so, D, but the bottom line is I’m not as good as I used to be. The numbers don’t lie.”
Before Demetrius could reply, the server stopped by again and they placed their food orders—a chicken sandwich with steamed broccoli for Daniel and a Cobb salad for Demetrius. Once they were alone again, Demetrius leaned back in his seat and sighed. “Well, I hope the tides turn for you, man.”
“Me, too.” Daniel picked at the edge of the coaster beneath his beer glass. “Are you going to see the Rumbles one last time before you go?” The mini-mites were the team Demetrius volunteered with most, and they all loved him, Gretchen included.
“Most definitely. Can’t leave my little buddies without saying goodbye. I think volunteering with them saved my sanity this season.” Demetrius nudged Daniel’s foot under the table until Daniel looked up. “You’ll keep going, right?”
“Of course. I’ll be at their practice next Monday. Tabby is taking Gretchen to the game on Friday since we’ll be traveling to face the Marauders.”