“Well, I love them, and it’s not a matter of good or bad, since it’s a natural phenomenon, but yes, they can be dangerous if you get close enough to be impacted by the gravitational pull. If you take a step back from that, and look at them for what they are, they’re quite fascinating.”
“That’s what your research is about, right?” he asked.
I nodded. “I try hard not to bore anyone with all that, but I talk about black holes more than I should, so it’s probably prudent for me to get a feel for your knowledge on the topic. Though I’ll do my best not to overshare.”
He chuckled. “I’m willing to bet I talk about hockey more than you talk about black holes.”
“Only because more people like hockey than black holes.”
We laughed and I started to relax. Not that I’d been especially nervous, but this was something new for us and I’d been a little worried if our existing friendship would easily morph into something more romantic or if we’d have to work at it.
“So tell me more about your research.”
I sipped my wine and nibbled a piece of cheese. “I truly don’t want to bore you to death on our very first date.”
“You won’t. I think you’re the smartest woman I’ve ever known and I’m genuinely interested. Though you might want to dumb it down to say, freshman-level black holes, and not Ph.D. level.”
I smiled. “I can do that. Okay, so a black hole, generally speaking, is a region of space where the gravity is so strong, nothing can get out. Not even light.”
“Which is why spaceships in the movies get sucked in and everyone dies.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“Okay. And what do you study about them?”
“Initially, I was working on equations that would justify how black holes are formed, but now I’ve moved on to a less theoretical platform, focusing on the composition of the holes themselves.”
“I’m afraid to ask for details about your research,” he said.
“We’ll take it slow,” I teased. “We can go back to Einstein’s theory of relativity and move forward from there.”
He groaned, dropping his head. “I’m already freaking out. This is reason number four zillion I shouldn’t go to college.”
I paused, cocking my head. “Are you thinking of going back to college?”
“Well, I’ve never taken any college classes, so I wouldn’t be going back, but going for the first time.”
“How would you have time with hockey?” I asked softly.
“I don’t know.” He looked away suddenly, his face masked in what I could only describe as indecision. “Once upon a time, I toyed with joining the FBI or something. But then hockey came calling and I changed direction because I was lured in by the idea of paychecks with lots of zeroes, and becoming something of a celebrity.”
“I didn’t know that. About the FBI, I mean.”
“I don’t talk about it much.”
“But you’re Canadian. Isn’t the FBI for Americans?”
“I’d have to become an American citizen, yes, but it could be done. Well, it could have. Now, I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“I’d have to go back to college, and I don’t know how I’d do that with hockey. A degree is mandatory and by the time I got it, plus the required three years of work in a relevant field, I’d probably be too old.”
“You’re only twenty-seven,” I pointed out.
“I’ll be twenty-eight soon, and while the cutoff is thirty-seven, there’s no way I can even think about starting school for another year because of my contract with the Sidewinders. So I’d be twenty-nine before I started, and then four years of college, plus three years working, puts me at thirty-six.”
“You’ve actually looked into this.” I didn’t know why, but I was surprised.
“Yeah.”
“Dax, if there’s something you want to do other than hockey, you should do it,” I said slowly. “You’re in the prime of your life. Grab that golden ring.”
“That’s just it—I’ve got the damn golden ring. How many people are good enough and lucky enough to play professional sports? Me. I’m that lucky. I have so much money put away, it’s ridiculous. And I do love it. I’ll always play—I can’t imagine not playing ever again. But sometimes I feel this weird pull… I don’t know. I’ve been battling a few different ideas about my life going forward for what seems like a long time.”
“But you’re not serious enough about any of those ideas to actually leave hockey.”
He hesitated. “I am, but I have one season left on my contract, so that’s why I’m thinking about all these things now. The time to make a decision is coming to a head in the near future because my agent is already making noises about negotiating my next contract and I don’t know how to tell him that maybe he shouldn’t.”
“What other options are there?” I asked after a moment.
“I could join the military.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“Only if it was the stepping stone to something else, like the FBI or whatever. I don’t want to make a career of the military.”
“So something like intelligence?”
He frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Have you thought about talking to some type of career counselor?”
He shook his head. “What would I say? Hey, I’m a professional athlete making millions of dollars a year but I’d now like to consider a future in civil service. I’m not sure what country I’d want to serve, since the FBI requires me to be an American citizen, and because I don’t even have a college degree, I’m four years away from doing anything.”
“I think you’re being hard on yourself,” I said gently. “You can do anything you set your mind to, but you have to figure out what you want first.”
“And that’s the trouble.” He sipped his wine thoughtfully. “I don’t know exactly what I want. I was considering taking one class in the fall, online of course, just to see if I have what it takes for college.”
“I’m sure you do. And I’m happy to provide tutoring,
