He tied his skates and reached for his water bottle. Beside him, Vince gave a happy shout then launched himself across the room. Several of the guys followed.
Leo stood. His teammates parted enough to show Dylan standing in the middle of the room, dressed in practice gear.
Unsure of his reception, Leo joined the guys. Snippets of conversations floated past him.
"Dylan's back."
"Cleared to practice, and to play in tomorrow's game."
Slowly, the room fell silent as all of the guys stopped talking and turned toward Leo and Dylan, waiting for the reunion. The way the bodies parted and formed a circle reminded him too much of the street fights he'd brawled in as a kid. And now, as back then, a rush of adrenaline charged like a lightning bolt along his skin.
Dylan walked toward him, hand extended. "Hey, man. Welcome to the team."
Guard still raised, Leo accepted the shake. "Thanks."
Then Dylan's other hand clapped him on the back. "It's good to have you here."
One by one, Leo relaxed his muscles. He shouldn't have expected any less from the captain, the team and city's golden boy, the consummate professional. Thank goodness.
Coach LeClair strode in, surveying them with a smile he fought to hide. "All right, boys. Show's over. Everyone on the ice."
As his teammates filed out, Leo stayed in his place and Dylan did the same. More needed to be said, and Coach was giving them a chance. Leo gestured helplessly with his glove. "I know we exchanged texts after the incident but I can't not apologize again. I'm sorry about that hit. How's your head?"
"I'm fine. Completely healed." Dylan glanced behind him at his locker, tucked into the corner. "The guys aren't being dicks, are they?"
"Nah. Most are fine. Now. But—"
"I know. I heard about what happened with Slater. I had a talk with him earlier. Told him that's not how things work on our team."
"If it had been a dirty hit, I'd understand. Hell, if the roles were reversed, I'd probably have landed a few punches of my own. He's young, and I can't fault a guy for sticking up for his teammate."
"We all saw the video. Multiple times." Dylan rolled his eyes. "It just went wrong. If my helmet hadn't come off, I might not have ended up with the concussion at all, or symptoms for as long as I did, and maybe wouldn't have missed three weeks. It's cool. We're cool."
"We are?" He really needed them to be.
"Dude, I've been playing this game a long time. Long enough to have a few hits go wrong myself. We're fine."
Tension he hadn't been aware of fled and Leo's muscles fully relaxed. Even breathing seemed easier. "Good."
Dylan nodded toward the door. "Let's get out there. I've missed being out on the ice with the guys. Coach is going to work on shifting the lines today."
Leo grabbed his helmet. "I'll let you have your spot back."
Grinning, Dylan shook his head. "That's nice of you."
"Playing alongside Kreider and Celek has been great but I'm sure they'll be glad to get you back." Walking side-by-side with Dylan, he felt lighter than he had in weeks.
He skated onto the ice. With Dylan back, the mood was happy as though all was right with the world, and the guys were laughing and joking as they went through the drills.
Leo spent time centering the second line, surprised when Coach tried him on a power play unit with Dylan, then again on Dylan's penalty-kill unit. It was almost as though he was out there not only for his skating and scoring abilities, but also as Dylan's bodyguard. Protecting the captain, especially after the type of injury Dylan had sustained, fell within his natural inclination anyway. But the possibility that it also might factor in Kelsey's decision and sway the balance in his favor... he'd take any break he could get.
By the middle of the second period of the game against Las Vegas, Leo's theory of being Dylan's unofficial on-ice bodyguard had been confirmed. Coach LeClair kept changing up the lines, pulling Kreider and sending Leo in his place nearly every shift. Going from center to left wing took some adjustment, but after a few hiccups he and Dylan and Celek at right wing worked out a good system without losing their sense of timing too badly.
The crowd had cheered long and loud when the PA announcer had called out Dylan's name. The building pulsed with an energy that was palpable, feeding the crowd and the team in an unending cycle.
Leo checked well, throwing his body around enough to show every player who attempted to hit Dylan that they'd end up answering to him.
On the bench during a commercial break, he sat between Dylan and Celek. The camera focused on Dylan, zooming in on his face. The fans cheered. Then it panned to him. A chorus of boos erupted from the stands.
Sure, some fans were probably doing it to get a laugh, but it echoed from more than one place. There were enough boos from different sections to make him sure the fans' dislike of him was fairly widespread. Winning over the fans was going to take more than simply having Dylan back on the team.
After his next shift, he collapsed on the end of the bench, next to Vince. Dylan climbed over the boards, nudged Vince over, and squeezed in beside Leo. He patted Leo on the helmet. "Nice work out there."
Calling out encouragement to the guys, he left his hand resting on Leo's shoulder long enough for the cameraman to zero in on it. The image appeared on the Jumbotron and stayed until play resumed.
Vindicated, Leo pushed hard for the rest of the game. He assisted on a goal for Celek and a goal
