Page 36 of Goalie Interference

“I’m sure,” he says. His voice is calm and even, like he’s trying to pass that energy onto me. It’s working. I’m feeling less frazzled.

“Can we go now?” Gavin asks.

Connor holds up his first finger at him, but keeps his gaze on me. “Are you good?”

“Yeah.” I nod at him. “I’m good.”

He smiles genuinely at me. “Have fun tonight. I’m glad the two of you are getting close.”

Nikolai

The bus ride from the stadium back to our hotel is taking too long for my liking. I was the first on the bus after the game, having rushed to shower, dry my hair, and put my suit back on. Luckily, it’s my most casual suit, brown slim-fitting pants and a cream-colored blazer worn over a simple white cotton shirt. No tie, but a sharp look just the same.

I check my watch again as we round the corner to get to our hotel. It’s almost nine thirty. We’re going to be cutting it close. Especially if Ander is late again as well.

I hate being late. On time, like clockwork, that’s how I run. That’s one way, probably even my main way, that I keep myself calm and in control. But what is terrible about that being my way of maintaining order and predictability is that it only works for me. I can’t control everyone else around me to ensure they run on my schedule. Accepting that fact has been one of my hardest lessons in life.

Which is why it’s so ridiculous that I agreed to meet Ander for dinner tonight. I have no control over what time the game ends. I have no control over what time the bus leaves. I have no control over what time Ander arrives. So why on earth would I ever agree to something with so many variables?

Oh. Right. I know why. Because I like Ander. And not just as a friend. Although if that is all I get out of this, that will be fine by me. As I learned in the past, the last time I found myself feeling that warm pull towards another man, sometimes all you’re going to get is a friend.

“Yo! Baby!” Danton yells from the other side of the bus as it pulls to a stop in front of our hotel. “Your brother’s here!”

“What?” Brandon asks from his seat where he and Ryan are sitting close together.

I crane my neck to try and see out of the window beside Danton. The tint is too dark for me to see clearly at this distance. But if he’s telling the truth, my stomach drops. I hate the thought of Ander having to wait for me.

“Yeah,” Danton says. “Y’all got dinner plans or something?”

“No,” Brandon says at the same time Ryan says, “He’s here for our goalie.”

“Well, that sounds ominous,” Danton says as he turns his attention to me. His lips turn up into a wicked grin. “Or are you plotting something?”

“No.” I laugh. I can feel my skin starting to get hot and a slight sheen form on my forehead. Thankfully this bus is dimly lit. “We are having dinner.”

Danton checks his watch, then looks at me with one eyebrow raised. “It’s getting a little late for dinner, don’t you think?”

“It is no different than eating dinner here in hotel,” I say.

“Fair point.” Danton shrugs.

“How come you’re not invited, Baby?” Roysy asks, reaching over and messing up Brandon’s hair.

“Thankfully,” Brandon says, “I wasn’t asked.” He looks at Ryan. “Or were we?”

“We were not,” Ryan says, as he fixes Brandon’s hair.

Danton narrows his eyes. “So why did he ask you?”

“We are friends,” I say. “Friends can have dinner.”

“I mean, yeah…” Danton says. “But you two were ready to kill each other during the playoffs.”

“Not kill,” I say.

“You asked me to poison him,” Brandon says.

“Not kill,” I repeat. “Make indisposed. It was finals.” I hold my palms up for emphasis.