24. EASTON

TWENTY-FOUR

EASTON

I could really get used to waking up next to Knox. And that's what sucks the most about being on the road. We're in Utah for the next four days for two preseason games, and the regular season is coming up fast.

Everything is up in the air.

Knox has his call with the AHL people tomorrow, and I flinch every time Coach calls out my name, sure this is going to be the moment they tell me to pack my shit and hop on a plane. But it hasn't happened yet, and I'm contemplating telling them I no longer want to be traded, but the thing is, I still do. I do, but I don't. I'm a complex guy.

I want my independence, yes, but I also want to give me and Knox a real chance. And sure, if Knox ends up traveling as a ref, he could live anywhere, but asking him to move where I am this early in our relationship is a great way to put pressure on us. Plus, Connor has been better lately, at least with the overprotective stuff. He's slowly adjusting to the idea of me and Knox. And I'm no longer wanting to murder him with my hockey stick.

We're playing well together in the first couple of preseason games we've had—winning one and losing the other, thanks to our backup goalie getting some real ice time. He was a sieve, and I really hope Flores has a good season and we never have to call upon our backup again. But the point is Connor's and my teeny tiny scuffle on our practice ice is forgotten, and we're back to being the solid Kiki brothers we were last season.

So, really, there's no reason I should still want the trade. If Knox gets a position as a linesman, he might be able to stay local.

Then why do I still feel like a trade is the right choice for me?

We hit the ice for the first game against Utah, with the second scheduled for the day after tomorrow. It's preseason, so no, the games don't count, but it's still a big deal to a lot of the other players. Last year, for my debut season, I thought losing was the worst thing that could happen during preseason. I'm a lot calmer this year, but my mind is also elsewhere.

It's not where it should be, so maybe that's why I'm not all that fazed that the second the puck drops, it only takes forty-two seconds for Utah to score.

Fuck.

Okay, I need to stop worrying about this possible trade, about the AHL call Knox is going to get, and ignore everything but hockey.

Utah is out to prove themselves as the newest franchise in the NHL, thanks to another team moving location, so they come out strong, particularly in the first period. They're fresh, and they're far from the team they were when they played in a different state.

It's good for me. Because I'm fighting so hard on the ice, I forget to think of the internal fight I'm having while off it. Only whenever I go back to the bench, hockey brain shuts off, and overthinky brain comes back.

To leave Colorado or not to leave, that is the annoying question that is constantly buzzing around me .

Independence or Knox. Stepping outside my comfort zone or continuing where I am.

I'm thankful when I get sent out for another shift so I can tune myself out.

Connor's on with me, and I will admit, together, we make a great unit. We're the team's penalty killers and power-play scorers. Having grown up together, we have this undeniable way of speaking to each other without using words, and as I move in front of the net, Connor sends a slapper my way, and it deflects off my chest, onto my stick, and then I basically lacrosse that fucker into the net.

Connor rushes me, along with our other teammates, and it feels right to do this alongside my brother. So even though I have the urge to be independent and move away from home, maybe Colorado is the right place for me after all.

I'm such a fickle bitch.

But then a voice in the back of my head says, "And what if Knox is offered a position at any of the other AHL arenas in the country?"

If I really look at my reasons for staying, I don't want to admit I'm the type of guy to say he'd move for a man, but I'm starting to think I totally am because while I'm willing to go to management and ask to stay, I'm holding off. Because if Knox moves, I'll want to follow, and I can't flip-flop between asking for a trade, taking it back, and then asking for it again.

Hopefully, Knox will get the call before I do.

But of course, that's not what happens. The minute we step into the visitor locker room, dejected from the loss and covered in sweat, it's obvious something is up. Because standing in the middle of the room is Parker Duchene, and he looks pissed.

Knox was right in that we haven't seen him since that day he introduced himself and Connor made a bad first impression. Or … first second impression? Don't know how that works when Parker doesn't remember Connor from high school. But owners don't usually travel with the team. So metimes, sure, they'll fly with the team to watch a game elsewhere or even show up to watch games on their own, but for an owner to be in a locker room in another city, during preseason, something's afoot. And with the way he's staring at me, I get the distinct impression this is it.

This is my trade.

Right when I don't want it anymore. Or yet. I haven't decided.

"Easton Kikishkin," he says, "Come see me as soon as you're out of your gear."

I point to the bikes, where I prefer to cool down before showering. "Can I?—"

"As soon as you're out of your gear."

The whole team is silent because they all know what's happening too. I turn to Connor, who's staring at me with a soft smile that looks like it's a real effort for him to give me. "This is what you wanted," he says.

It is. It's still what I want, technically. Hockey has been my everything—it's been this whole family's everything—for so long that making a hockey decision around someone who's potentially not going to be where I am seems idiotic.

I get out of my skates, pads, and hockey pants until I'm left in my base layers. My hair's a mess, so I throw on a Colorado cap and then make my way back into the entrance of the locker room, where there's now press waiting to talk to players about the game.

They try to pull me for a sound bite, but Parker gives me an up-nod to follow him, so I wade my way through the media and out the door, where Parker leads me down the corridor to a small press room that's empty. I hate to think what story the press is currently concocting about me.

I'm surprised when Coach is in there, too, instead of at the press conference that's probably already underway. Coach is holding his phone, face up, and by the look of it, he's on a call .

"Serge, we have Easton here," Coach says. Ah. Well, that explains why I didn't have time to shower first.

"Hi, Easton. Sorry to pull you out of the locker room to do this."

My heart thuds so hard I can barely stand it because this really is it. If Coach, the GM, and the owner pull me into a room, it's going to be big. Okay, I'm moving. I'm being traded. This is a good thing. It's what I wanted. And with the AHL knocking on Knox's door, it won't matter where I go. So long as it has an AHL team, I guess.

A gentle hand lands on my shoulder. "You okay? You look like you're going to pass out." Parker's blue eyes are soft, and they calm me somewhat.

"Where am I going?" I ask.

Parker looks confused.

"Which team am I traded to?"

"We're really sorry," Serge says through the phone.

"Oh, God, it's Dallas, isn't it? I'm going to have to be a gay man in Texas, and?—"

Parker releases my shoulder. "You're not going anywhere."

The relief is immediate, even though I'm sure I misheard. "Wait, what?"

"We know you wanted this," Coach Macklin says. "But …" He eyes Parker.

"I'm not allowing it," Parker says flatly.

"You're … not allowing a trade?"

"Nope." He smiles. "You're part of my big master plan. You can't leave."

"Plan?"

"To win the Stanley Cup, of course." There's something about the way he says this that makes me think he's lying. Or not telling me the whole truth, at least.

I glance at Coach, who has his head down, refusing to look at me. I don't know what the fuck's going on, but at least I'm not going anywhere now .

Even if this whole situation makes me suspicious as hell.

It's not what I was expecting, but at the same time, I'm relieved I no longer have to stress over where they're going to send me. Now, I only have to worry where they're going to send Knox.