Page 82 of Offside Rules

"Would you like to take my temperature, or can we finish the game?"

He looks back at the winger, then gets into position.

We’re tied halfway through the second, and I’ve already walked away from two arguments I would usually have finished. The player in front of JP is particularly interested in starting another one. He spends his next shift telling me where to shove my stick, then asks whether I’ve forgotten how to use it.

I haven’t. I’m just trying to get a woman to watch television with me, which apparently requires more self-control than anything else I’ve done in my career.

A few minutes later, their defender, Will Schumer comes over the blue line with the puck. I close the gap, keep my elbow down, and catch him cleanly with my good side. He hits the boards, Hunter collects the loose puck, and I follow the play out of our zone.

There. He can enjoy that without either of us involving a referee.

Hunter sends the puck ahead to Aleksi. His shot gets stopped, but Luka puts the rebound in, and we’re up by one when I get back to the bench.

"Apparently you can still hit," Hunter says, dropping beside me.

"Never said I couldn’t."

"Then what happened back there with JP?"

I take a drink. He’s going to keep asking, and I’d rather he stop trying to diagnose me between shifts.

"I made a bet with Baylor. No penalty minutes tonight."

His head turns. "You agreed to that?"

"She said I couldn’t do it."

Olsen leans forward from Hunter’s other side. "And that was all it took?"

"What do you get if you win?" Hunter asks.

"She stays tonight."

Olsen’s eyebrows go up.

"To watch television…" I add.

Hunter starts laughing.

"Fuck off."

"No, I like it," Olsen says. "What happens if you lose? She makes you read?"

"She gets my apartment to herself."

"And you go where?"

"Not your place."

"Anything you three would like to share?" Coach Haynes asks from behind us.

"No, Coach."

Hunter turns toward the ice, still grinning. Olsen sits back, and I take another drink before my next shift.

They can laugh. Baylor has spent weeks working in my kitchen, and I’ve spent most of that time trying to get her to sit down long enough to eat something. Tonight, she won’t have a piping bag in her hand or six boxes waiting by the door. She can put on her ridiculous pajamas and explain why everyone on that show keeps sleeping with the wrong person.

That’s what I asked for. I’d like to get it.