Page 69 of Hard Check
“I’m not ready to leave,” he said. “That’s all.”
“Even your father thinks you should talk to Phil,” she said.
“Dad said that?” He doubted it. His mom was the one who meddled in his career; Dad was simply along for the ride. He tended to go along with whatever she said just to avoid fighting.
Just like you do.Leo tried to shake the voice in the back of his head into silence.
“He agrees with me.”
Which meant she’d told his father what to think, and his father had nodded from behindThe Wall Street Journal. Leo pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and counted backward from five.
“I’ll call Phil when I have something to talk to him about.”
“Leo—”
“I have to go, Mom. Food’s getting cold.”
He hung up before she could mount her next attack. He set the phone on the counter and stood there, both hands on the edge, head down. She wasn’t wrong. Port Haven was small. But his mother measured success in straight lines — drafts and contracts and bigger cities — and Leo had stopped wanting any of those things. He didn’t know how to explain it to her. He wasn’t sure he wanted to try.
Cole Englund showedup Friday afternoon with a duffel bag, an equipment bag, and a look Leo recognized from his own first week. The one that said,Where the fuck am I?
He was taller than Leo, with a narrow face and ears that stuck out under a backward cap. He stood in Leo’s doorway and scanned the apartment like he wasn’t sure this was really happening.
“Couch is yours,” Leo said. “Bathroom’s down the hall. Towels are in the closet. There’s beer in the fridge, and if you eat the last of something, replace it, or I’ll bag-skate you myself.”
Cole dropped his duffel by the couch. “How long did it take you to find a place?”
“I didn’t look. Drove up, stayed at the inn for a couple of weeks, and then Gunnar told me there was a unit opening here.” Leo opened the fridge. “The rental market’s crap most of the time, but he’s good at knowing when something’s open. We can head over to The Penalty Box later if you want and I’ll introduce you to him.”
“Yeah. That’d be good.” Cole sat on the couch and tested the cushions, bouncing once, twice, the same test Charlotte had run months ago. Same verdict, probably. Good for naps.
Leo handed him a beer. “How long were you in Grand Rapids?”
“Nine years.” Cole cracked the beer. “Thought things were solid there.”
“Just because you were traded doesn’t mean you fucked up.” Leo wasn’t sure why he was trying to comfort his new roommate. Cole was old enough he knew what the life was like. They moved players around like chess pieces, not caring how the players felt about their lives being uprooted. “Listen, I know you might not be stoked to be here, but give it a shot.”
“That’s what my buddy Russ said, too.” Cole nodded. “He said the town’s small, but the team’s good.”
“Russ is right on both counts.”
Cole drank, looked out the window, then back.
Leo grabbed his keys off the counter. “I’m heading out for the night. You good here on your own?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Leo pulled on his jacket and took the stairs two at a time. Leo sat in his car for a full minute before he turned the key. He didn’t know what was waiting on the other side of Dawson’s front door, but he knew it was going to change something between them. He put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
As soon as Ethan closed the door behind him, Dawson had gone into frantic cleaning mode. Their house wasn’t filthy by any means, but Dawson wanted to make a good impression when Leo got here. He was just about to start working on dinner when Leo knocked on the front door.
What was supposed to be Dawson cooking for Leo had turned into the two of them cooking together. They moved around one another in the small kitchen easily, and Dawson let himself imagine a life where this was their normal.
“Your bookshelf is aggressive,” Leo said, not looking up from the cutting board.
Dawson took a pull from his beer. “How is a bookshelf aggressive?”
