"No way." Grinning, he hugged her so hard the breath rushed out of her lungs. Then he eased back and kissed her. "I'm so proud of you. Now we have extra incentive to go all the way. We need to get you as much air time as possible."
"And you'll start your win streak again on Monday night."
He cupped her face in his hands. "The whole flight here, I kept thinking about hitting pucks with you at the rink yesterday, and coming home to you tonight. No matter what, you always make me feel better."
She fell with him onto the mattress and they made love slowly and sweetly under the fleece blanket wrapped in sheets as soft as a cloud.
He'd mentioned home twice.
Maybe he would stay. From conversations she'd had with her dad, she knew the GM wanted him back next year. If they gave him an attractive enough offer, and they would... then the logistics problems would solve themselves. She'd have her roles with the Bedlam and the national network, and he would be on the team for the next few years. And life would be perfect. As long as nothing happened to throw a wrench into her plans.
CHAPTER NINE
LEO HELD OPEN THE DOOR to Tap Out and gestured for Kelsey and Rod to pass through. On the side of the room, Mitch Michaels laughed with his crew. The radio broadcast had been underway for a few hours, and he'd been ripping into Leo the entire time.
Leo's hands formed fists at the idiot's face. Kelsey's hand traced soothing patterns over his back. "Let me go on record as saying that I thought this was a bad idea two weeks ago, and I still think it's a bad idea now. And Leo, no matter what happens, you can't haul off and punch the guy, okay?"
"I can't make any promises." He rolled his shoulders. "Let's get it over with."
He led the way to Mitch's table. The show's producer or a crew member waved them on during a commercial break. Leo begrudgingly shook Mitch's hand. The radio host peered past him. "Rod, are you joining us too?"
"I'm here to support my buddy but I'll join in and take questions." Rod clapped Leo on the shoulder and then took the vacant chair next to Mitch. He would be a physical barrier to the manipulative host.
"Kelsey, feel free to join in too as the mood strikes." Mitch waved like a king making a decree. He waited for his cue "And we're live here at Tap Out with Buffalo Bedlam center Leo Brennan. I'll start off with the first question. I see that Rod and Kelsey Fraser accompanied Leo Brennan tonight. But not Dylan. Where's Dylan?"
Kelsey leaned into Leo's microphone. "You know he suffered a concussion ten days ago. Lights and noise aren't good for him right now."
"Oh that's right. He suffered another concussion." Mitch smirked, putting emphasis on the injury. "You know, this one might not have been as bad if he hadn't sustained that first one back in February. How do you feel about that, Leo? Knowing that you're the reason he's going to take a long time coming back—if he comes back at all? Or knowing you've cost this team and this city a championship?"
"What the hell, Mitch?" Rod grabbed Mitch's mic. The reverb screeched, making everyone in the bar wince. "You have no idea what you're talking about. I don't see the letters MD after your name, but you seem to have a degree in BS."
Leo held Kelsey's hand under the table. Her soft skin and reassuring squeeze helped keep him calm. "It's fine, Rod. Look, I can't say that the first concussion isn't affecting anything and I can't say that it is. I don't know. I am sorry it happened. All we want is for Dylan to get better."
Mitch yanked his microphone away from Rod. "Your guys just came off of a five-game losing streak. I'd say that Dylan isn't the only thing to worry about. You can't win without him."
"We won last night."
"Please. It was against a mediocre team who is in last place in the league. You won't be getting off that easy in the playoffs." Mitch hit a button. "Okay, Christopher from Depew, one of our regular callers, you're on the air. What do you have to say to Leo?"
"You're a fucking piece of garbage." A young man's voice spilled from the speakers. "You fucked with our captain and you fucked with our season. If we don't win the Cup, I swear I'm gonna kick your ass."
Leo laughed, taken aback by the caller's vehemence. He glanced at Kelsey, then at the bar patrons, determined not to rise to the bait. "I gotta say, I love the passionate fan base here."
"How many hits have you taken to the head, man? I just told you that you better not ruin what we've waited on for years. Of course, we're passionate, you idiot. Passionate enough to tear your balls off if you—"
"You and what army?" His patience had thinned under Mitch's annoying perma-smirk. "Look, kid, why don't you go back to doing your homework? Leave these lines open for people who have real questions."
"You think you're so tough. Just wait."
"It's pretty easy to talk tough when you're hiding behind a phone. Show up or shut up, kid."
"Don't think I won't come down there."
Kelsey's hand squeezed his thigh. She slowly shook her head. "I think it's time for the next caller."
Rod leaned into his microphone. "For what it's worth, we should be blaming Bertuzzi for his hit on Dylan. Dirty hit, dirty player. The next time our teams meet, you can bet that Leo and I will be kicking his ass again."
A few more callers wanted to complain about the team's losing streak and what Rod and Leo thought about possible playoff matchups. Mitch alternately provoked the callers and insulted them.
When the
