The horn goes and the crowd cheers louder for us.
I nudge Coldwell whose jaw is hanging open on my way back to set up.
“Fuck, Red, nice handling.” He chuckles and says something more, probably dirty, but it’s lost in the crowd and the music and chaos.
Everyone is giving Suz a light shove or a slap, but she is staring at me. I wink and she beams.
“Hey, Red, if you don’t score another goal, you have dinner with me tonight,” one of the guys lifts his helmet and shouts at me.
“She’s already having dinner with you, moron,” Suz says with a laugh, making his smirk fall. “We all are. It’s a fundraiser and we’re being paid to hang out with you, something I’m sure you’re accustomed to.” She whacks the ice with her stick and the puck drops.
Cap has it and moves it forward to Brimley. He skates beautifully for such a large man. It’s something to see so close. They pass back and forth moving around my teammates with ease, scoring with even more ease. At the sound of the horn, I smack the ice and turn to go back, this time running into a wall. He catches me. Every inch of my body wants to shove him but the crowd is watching. My bosses are watching.
“Careful there, Red,” Lawrence says with a grin but it’s hollow. “Unless you’re trying out that meet-cute Mike just tried on you.” His joke is cold. “But as you know, I don’t require that kind of effort. Just show up in my room naked and I’m in.”
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I pull free and skate away, kicking myself. How could I hurt his feelings like that and not mend this before the game? I told myself I was working too much to handle it but now I have to admit it was avoidance and I regret everything.
The puck drops and we move fast. My mind is stuck in the game, and I don’t bother passing to anyone. Instead, I drive toward the goalie, skating through the guys on the other team. I fake out the Russian and pass to Suz who fakes a slap shot but passes to me again, and I flick the puck into the corner of the net.
The Russian cusses me out. I laugh, understanding a lot more than he realizes.
Lori is suddenly there between us, speaking Russian, telling the guy to watch himself.
I’m taken aback, not only because he defended me to his teammate but that he speaks Russian.
We change lines but I’m stuck staring at Lori.
“Nice goal, kid!” Our coach gives me a whack of approval.
I sit down next to Suz and drink some water. As the game starts again, I glance over at their bench next to us. He’s still staring. “Did you know Eckelston spoke Russian?” I ask Suz.
“Yeah, Russian, Japanese, German, French. He’s a typical trust fund kid like Brimley. Proper boarding school, Ivy League, and all that.” She huffs for air. “I didn’t know you Canadians had those too.”
“We do.” I sigh, hating how sexy that is. “How mandatory is this dinner?”
“You organized it and Stan would be personally offended if we didn’t go.” She flashes me a sorrowful stare. “Guess we better be nicer to the cute pucks.”
“Yay us,” I groan and drink more water.
Our next shift is no better. I’m trying to mind my own business, skate, steal, and pass, but they have made it their mission to bump, nudge, trip, and grab at Suz and me. We barely touch the puck for the whole four minutes.
The buzzer rings for end of period and I struggle my way back to the bench. Someone smacks me on the butt, which in hockey isn’t weird but it isn’t one of my teammates. It’s one of the big Mike guys I don’t know on the Rangers team. He wasn’t at the wedding. He flashes a grin but I glare, imagining peeling his skin from his body.
The guys laugh as they leave the ice.
Annoyed but counting down the minutes until this humiliation is over, I follow my team to the locker room.
“It smells like balls in here,” Lian gripes when I sit down next to her.
“It’s pretty bad,” I agree.
“I know you thought of it and it’s a fundraiser and just for fun, and we’re making bank for a good cause, but I’m getting annoyed at how much of a joke we are to them,” Lian whispers as she leans back on the bench, stretching out her legs. “Don’t get me wrong, it was brilliant. And the upper crust of this company loves you for it. But I wish we could turn the tables a little.”
“I know.” I have to agree. “This is painful. I hate losing, even when it’s for a good cause.”
“We should swap jerseys, put all our strongest players on one line and surprise them,” Suz interrupts. “My team did that once, it was awesome.”
“It’s genius.” I glance at Allan and Steve. “Suz, didn’t you play goal on your team?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah,” she says back softly. “League record for shutouts. Steve refused to let me. But I brought my gear in case he accidentally got injured.” She stares past me to the hipster with the man bun and beard. I’m shocked he hasn’t got a toque under his helmet.
“He asked me out a few weeks ago,” Lian confesses quietly, dread thick in her voice. “To mess with those Rangers, I could tell him I’ll go out with him if he lets you have goal.”
“And I could switch jerseys with Marshall. He’s got to be close to my size.” I eye up the
