Chapter 7

Matt

A knock on her door startles us both and Hannah jumps away from me. It stings, and I have to remind myself that she doesn't want anything to do with me beyond work.

To hide the sting of her rejection I leave the couch to answer it. The pizza delivery guy looks like he's still in high school.

"Holy Hockey!" The guy says, "You're my hero man."

"Thanks."

"Can I get a selfie? My little bro will go nuts. He's been a fan ever since you visited St.—"

I jump in to cut him off. There are some things I don't want to be used as a publicity stunt. Which is exactly what it would be if the big boss at the arena found out. "Do you need me to sign something?"

His excitement deflates like a tire that's run over a railroad spike, he pulls out the receipt for me to sign. I do, and then I reach for my wallet and pull out cash for his tip as well as one of the trading cards I keep in there. It's better than a napkin, I sign the card with my face on it and hand it over with the cash.

We trade the money and card for the pizza.

"Oh man, that's fire! I didn't even know there were hockey cards."

"Have a good night."

He's too busy looking at the card as he walks away to say goodbye.

By the time the door has closed and I've put the box of pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch, Hannah's over the hair-twirling moment. She goes to the kitchen to get plates. I don't wait for a plate before I grab a slice of barbecue chicken pizza with pineapple on it. I had to pay extra for them to add pineapple, but it's worth it. The barbecue sauce has an underlying spice that the pineapple balances out.

From my spot on the couch, I hear her moving around, and the clink of glasses.

"Do you want a drink?"

Two potted plants decorate the half wall between the kitchen and TV room, one has long tall leaves, and another has thinner white and green leaves that poke out in all directions like spider legs. Grow lights are plugged into the wall so the plants don't need a window. More plants are positioned on a table by the window by her door, and I love that she has a green thumb. I can't keep the fake tree in my condo alive.

"Just water." I unmute the TV and flip through the channels to find something that's on at four o'clock in the afternoon.

With two slices of pizza on my plate, and a tall glass of water, I'm settled in to watch the trivia gameshow I found. I figure it is a safe choice since she indicated interest at the pub. If my ego wasn't still hurt from earlier I'd ask her if she'd be interested in partnering up for trivia night. I'd been so tempted to ask her last night.

The whole time last night, I wanted to reach over and take her hand as we sat across from each other. If it had been a real date, I'd have done so. But Lou was there, and I didn't feel like getting into a fight off the ice. Besides if I dated Hannah, I'd do much better than the pizza pub. I gulp my water, then take another bite of pizza.

I double down and focus on the questions from the TV.

The host has lifted his card and reads out, "Who painted the Mona Lisa?"

"Da Vinci," I mumble around my pizza.

Hannah looks at me as she nods in agreement. The host points at a contestant to state their answer, which only confirms mine. I eat more pizza and Hannah answers the next question. We go back and forth until the end of the show.

After the pizza is long gone, and the trivia has come to an end, I have to move. To give myself something to do so I don't do something dumb like touch her hair again, I throw the box away. Her hair is so soft, and I curse myself for finding that out. Would it be better to wonder every time I see her? Or is it worse now that I know each time I look?

With her migraine gone, and no indication of it coming back tonight, there's no need for me to stay. I don't need to stay here and torture myself.

"Thanks, Matt."

"No problem. I put your keys on your kitchen table."

"I saw that when I got plates."

"Guess I should go now."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow?" Her voice is timid, but her face is hopeful.

"You know I can't stay away from the muffins."

"Right." Her hope fell away. "The muffins are great."

I. Am. An. Idiot.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Why did I bring up muffins after they made her sick earlier? "Or those raspberry things. It doesn't have to be muffins."

Stop saying muffins.

"I'll let Maria know you like them so much."

The door is open and I'm halfway through it when I'm stopped.

"Do you need a ride home?" She asks.

"Nate and Dan drove my car over earlier." I held up the keys as proof.

I leave before I can drag out the goodbye and make it even more awkward.

T he gym is exactly what I need to get my head on straight. The familiar clank of weights, and the muscle-burn in my lungs from the run on the treadmill. Gyms are straightforward. Do the work, see results. I'm at the top of my game here. I've broken my personal best in this room more than once. It's all the welcome distraction from the dangerous thoughts I've been having about a certain curvy blond.

My phone rings, and I hit the stop button so I can take the call. My agent's name is on the screen.

"Hey Lennox," I answer after recognizing my agent's name.

"Matt, my man. I'm getting nibbles," he doesn't bother with the preamble. It's one of the many reasons I signed him as my agent. I don't need him wasting time asking me about the weather when he could be getting me deals.

My pulse quickens. "Really?"

"How do you feel about this being your last season playing semi-pro?" He drops the bombshell as if he's asking me how I feel about a well-grilled steak.

Disbelief, and wonder, slam into me. Advancing to the big league has been the ultimate dream. It's grown more distant with each passing season. Younger guys getting called up, while I play the ice in Glacier Bay.

"Are you serious?" I can't believe what he's suggesting, there has to be a catch.

My heart pounds with excitement and apprehension.

"Your slap shots have the attention of some people on the next level. I mean nothing's official yet, but you keep playing the way you have been."

"You got it Lennox."

"Keep your press stays clean. No puck bunnies, drunken parties, or fights off the ice. Be a good kid. Talk soon."

It's not a problem to keep my press clean. I don't drink, do one-night stands, and without the game adrenaline in my veins, I don't fight. He hangs up without waiting for me to say goodbye. It's normal for him, but I'm left to stare at my phone while I think over what he's said. It's a dream come true, almost. Almost the bruises, and aches, and long hours of practice will be worth it. Almost, I have my shot.

"Do you think he's broken?"

Lou's voice interrupts my rambling thoughts, and I look up to see him and Nate standing nearby watching me.

Nate's expression looks more thoughtful. "He's got that face, it's hard to tell."

I clench my jaw, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. I've tried so hard to be a dependable teammate who never falters. These two have seen the cracks in my defense.

"Ice off," I tell both of them.

Ignoring their prying gazes, I hit the start button on the treadmill to focus on the workout, but the tension in the air is palpable.

They move so they stand on either side of the machine, I decide to ignore them and up my speed. They talk to each other as if I'm invisible about the weather, biding their time until they get to whatever they want to say.

Nate starts first, "Do you think it's a lady problem?"

"You think Matt's got the monthlies? Finally becoming a woman?" Lou grins like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

Nate chuckles, and I spare Lou a quick glare. His grin only gets bigger.

"Could be," Nate muses, casting a pointed glance at me. "But I was thinking more that he's got a lady on his mind."

The pounding in my chest isn't due to the physical exertion. I haven't been running long enough or hard enough for that. No, it's because I have a sinking feeling that I know what's about to come out. I tense, and gauge Lou's posture. He's relaxed in his typical manner. No sign of his Lou Lightning energy. I'd had to stop myself from laughing when I overheard Hannah's date say it last night. I one hundred percent agreed with her that if Lou ever heard someone call him that, his ego would be insufferable.

"Maybe he met someone at the Sweetheart Shuffle yesterday," Nate suggests, his voice laced with curiosity.

I can feel Lou's attempt to stare a hole through me. Despite my warm muscles from running, there's a tension I can't shake off. I definitely don't like wherever this is going.

"Not long enough to be this caught up on her." Nate snaps his fingers as if an idea just sparked in his mind.

The wait for him to finish his thought feels a lot like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Hey weren't you spending time with Hannah?"

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication, and I brace myself for Lou's reaction. Nate knows he's treading on dangerous ground, but he is still baiting the bear. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure I'm the bait.

I hit the stop button and hop off the back of the machine.

Lou has swapped his stare for a glare that's focused on Nate. His voice is low and threatening. "Take that back."

The tension between them crackles with electricity, threatening to ignite into something more explosive. If there wasn't a treadmill between them, I'm pretty sure Lou would be using his hands to talk with. Getting to the level we are, means being able to back up what we say on and off the ice.

But Nate refuses to back down. "I'm just saying...Matt's single, Hannah's?—"

Before he can finish his sentence, Lou explodes, his anger boiling over. "My sister is off limits you figure skating biscuit eater."

Nate holds his hands up in surrender. "I'm not the one interested."

Lou's attention snaps to me, his fists are clenched as he steps closer. "Stay away from my sister." Next, he points at Nate. "You stop talking about my sister, unless you want to find icy hot in your gear."

"I thought you liked me," Nate slaps a hand to his chest as if he were struck a killing blow.

It's incredibly dumb, but the words that come out of my mouth bypass my brain, "Yeah, Lou. Why can't I date Hannah?"

Lou snarls, "My sister's too good for a knucklehead like you. She's too good for all of us."

"Don't you think I know that?" I tell him. "I'm surprised you haven't put her on a pedestal or something. But I doubt Hannah would put up with standing on one of those marble things, while a bunch of those laser things protect her from whatever you think is bad for her."

Lou's shoulders relax a smidge, and he smiles just a bit. "Give me some credit. This is the twenty-first century. I just had the boss man amend her contract."

I'm stunned, as is Nate based on his dropped jaw.

"What did he change?" I ask.

"She can't date anyone on the team, or that works at the arena without being fired on the spot."

My jaw drops. "You can't be serious."

"That's harsh," Nate agrees. "Dan dated and married one of the docs. He couldn't stop talking about her after she patched him up."

I nod. "You want to ruin her career?"

Lou's walls go up and his posture grows more defensive. "She worked too hard for that degree, I'm not going to let her get treated like some puck bunny by a player."

With each word he says I'm getting more and more irritated with him. Lou and I have been like brothers on the ice thanks to our years playing together. Every game Hannah's been there too, cheering for us both. It's not fair that Lou is keeping her in the dating penalty box while he's able to explore the ice.

"Well, you'd know," I tell him, my arms crossed. "You've been out with plenty of them."

His face turns angry in an instant, and he rushes at me. I plant my feet, square my shoulders, and prepare to take him. Nate steps between us and blocks Lou's warpath.

"Take a walk," Nate tells him.

Lou tries to push past him, but Nate shoves him back. Lou shakes his head at me, and I know he's thinking about ignoring Nate and coming for me anyway. It's a look I've seen too many times before he ends up in a penalty box.

After Lou has left the gym, Nate turns his attention to me. "I thought you were smarter than that."

"Tell me he doesn't deserve it for pulling that."

"And picking a fight is the way to change his mind?" Nate questions.

My shoulders slump. Lou has never been one to back down from a fight.

"Hannah's smart, she'll make her own decisions."

I nod.

"Of course, she'd be able to make a decision if all your cards were on the table."

"I don't know what you're suggesting." I lie.

He rolls his eyes. "You know better than I do, take shots when you can."

Nate leaves, and I finish my run. The entire time I'm thinking about what I want and the problem is I can't have it all.