Page 29 of Goalie Interference

“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “I already turned them down. And you should be thanking me. After tonight’s performance, your stock is rising.”

“Rising with who?” I ask. “You? Other teams? It does not matter. I want to stay with the Mules. If they have offered me a contract, take it.”

“Like I said, it’s too late. And you should be thanking me. You can get much more money, either from them or on the open market this summer.”

“What part of ‘I want to stay in St. Louis’ do you not understand?”

“Honestly? All of it. You’re finally peaking. And you want to waste away in St. Louis. It’s idiotic.”

I glance over at Ander. He’s stayed some distance behind with Shutzie, letting him sniff a tree for longer than necessary. I catch him looking at me with concern on his face.

I turn away again and hiss into my phone. “It is not wasting. The Mules are good team. I like it here.”

“Fine.” She sighs. “In a few days, if I don’t hear anything back, I’ll call them again.”

“You will call them now and accept their offer.”

“It’s late, Nikolai. I don’t even know why I’m calling you. Trust me on this. I have it under control.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, Nikolai. I do. This is my job. Not yours. Now please walk off whatever has you so grumpy and be thankful you have an agent who is bargaining to get you heavy payday.”

“Fine,” I say reluctantly, then add before I hang up on her, “Good night, Sofia.” With my back still turned to Ander, I take a deep breath, then slowly let it out. I turn in the white plume of air left around me by my exhale. Ander has stepped closer.

“Agent issues?”

“To say the least.” I laugh bitterly.

“I can put you in touch with mine if you’d like. He’s great.”

“Thank you for offer,” I say. “But I owe Sofia.”

He nods his head. “Let me know if you ever change your mind.”

“I will.”

I won’t. I do owe Sofia. She has done a lot for me in the past. She stuck by me for years. Put up with me when I was playing my worst. Moved from city to city with me until she finally had enough and chose to stay in Toronto.

I’m glad she chose to stay there. Glad we’re no longer together. But I do still owe her, even if she is making it harder and harder for me to keep that in mind.

“So, you really like St. Louis, huh?” Ander says, breaking me from my thoughts as we continue our walk. Instantly, I feel myself relax again.

“Yes.” I smile and slide my hands into my coat pockets. “It is nice place to live. Team is good fit, too.”

“That’s how I feel about Buffalo. I can’t imagine playing anywhere else.”

“Do they treat you well here?”

“More than well,” he says, exaggerating the more. “The team amenities are topnotch, management and coaching are solid and cohesive.” He pauses and looks over his shoulder at me. A smirk plays on his lips. “And the cups are nice.”

“Asshole.” I laugh and bump him with my shoulder. But I’m so relieved to see him acting like himself again. To hear his laugh. To see his smile. To watch his eyes sparkle. The combination causes an unfamiliar ache in my chest. A strange sensation. A fluttering that feels like happiness contained in a single chamber.

“Oh,” he goes on, and brings a hand to his chest. “The cups. Winning them. There’s just nothing like it. You’ll have to come to Buffalo someday if you ever want to know how it feels.”

“Is that so?” This cocky bastard. He thinks he can hang onto the Stanley Cup forever. Just like we did tonight, the Mules will prove him wrong. Let’s hope by then he’s grown more accustomed to losing. I’d hate to break his spirit again. It’s naturally so vibrant, anything short of his usual jovial self feels wrong.

“It’s definitely so,” he says, grinning. But there’s a playfulness to his expression, like he knows he’s being ridiculous. That it’s all for show.