Page 192 of Over the Line

As soon as the door had shut behind us, Chris turned wide eyes on me. “Are you sure about this, Saints? You’re still so good!”

I laughed quietly and shrugged. “Might as well quit while I’m on top, you know?”

He stared at me. So did Garrett.

Sobering, I rubbed my thumb along Garrett’s and said, “Look, I love hockey. I love playing for the Phantoms. But it’s taken a hard toll on my body and on my life outside of hockey. I think… I mean, I’ve been thinking about retirement for a while, but when I actually said I might drop the hammer…” I half-shrugged, glancing at each of them. “I guess it got me thinking. It kind of gave me permission to think about retirement as a concrete thing, not some far-off, abstract idea.” I paused and took a deep breath. “I think I’m ready. I can go out on top, and I still have my health enough to enjoy my life.”

“Are you sure, though?” Garrett asked, barely whispering. “You still love to play.”

“I do. And it’s not like I’m going to cut hockey out of my life.” I half-shrugged. “Just… not play professionally anymore.”

“Whoa,” Chris said. “Liam St. Clair retiring. That’s…” He shook his head.

I laughed. “I mean, we all knew it would happen eventually.”

“Yeah, but it’s still… That’s a lot.”

“I know. It’s a lot for me, believe me.” Smiling, I squeezed Garrett’s hand. “But I’d kind of like to be healthy enough at forty to keep up with my fifty-year-old boyfriend.”

Chris barked a laugh and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Garrett tried to look put out, but he was losing a fight against a grin. Elbowing me, he said, “You make it sound like I’m old.”

I shrugged. “I mean…”

“Shut up.” He elbowed me again.

Chris snorted. “Okay, I was having a hard time picturing you guys as a couple, but now?” He gestured at us and laughed. “Now I see it.”

Garrett rolled his eyes. Then he looked at me, his expression totally serious. “Are you really sure about this?”

“I am. The truth is, I spend more nights than not dealing with some kind of pain, and that’s only going to get worse. My body is tired. I think I am too.” I looked at Chris and smiled. “And the Pittsburgh Phantoms are in good enough hands that I think I can bow out.”

Chris stared at me, eyes wide.

“I’m serious,” I said. “You’re living up to exactly why you were drafted as high as you were. Gil’s been building a team around you.”

“He… He has?”

I nodded. “You haven’t noticed we have this nice balance of veterans and young players? The whole reason he wanted 1A and 1B offensive lines was so that when I retired, the transition would be smooth.”

Chris gulped.

“You’ve got the talent and the skill,” I said. “And Gil has very carefully made moves so that when I retired, it wouldn’t be a massive blow to the team.”

“So, instead of a rebuild…”

I smiled. “Gil doesn’t do rebuilds unless he has to. He wanted to stack the team so it wasn’t necessary.” I nodded toward Chris. “He’s got you. He’s got Craws. He’s got Temo locked into a five-year contract with a no-move clause. Barns just signed a four-year extension, and between you and me, Gil’s working on getting a new backup goalie who might be good enough to be Barns’s tandem.”

Chris whistled. “Whoa. And the D pairs…” His eyes lost focus.

“Drizz still needs another year or two to really develop, but he’s probably going to be in our top D pair after Morris retires.”

“Damn. I… didn’t even notice what Gil was doing.”

“He’s good at what he does,” I said. “And as much as he’s hoping I’ll sign an extension, he knows my days are numbered no matter what. He’s pragmatic enough to prepare for that rather than just blithely hope I’ll play until I’m forty.”

“Wow.” Chris chewed his lip. “And you really think I can fill your skates? Because holy shit, that’s a lot of pressure.”