Page 39 of Shootout
I checked the time on my phone. “Hey, I gotta go.”
Vince’s grin was all-knowing. “I figured you had a hot date or something the way you kept looking at your phone. I hope it’s discreet. If you’re screwing around on Jessie and Wild finds out—” He let those words hang between us.
“I’m not. I’m actually meeting Jessie for a skate.”
Vick’s brows crept into his hairline. “Really?”
“Just keeping up appearances.”
“Sure.” Vick smirked, not convinced, and I didn’t have the time or patience to change his mind. I threw a few twenties on the table, waved at the bartender, and made for the door.
I hurriedly strode down the sidewalk for the SHAC, anxious to see Jessie despite willing myself not to be. Normally, I entered via the players’ entrance on the parking garage level. Today, I used the front door without thinking.
I passed a couple teenage boys loitering outside. I heard my name and knew I’d been recognized. I hesitated. My inner asshole wanted to keep walking, but my ego needed stroking. Plus, I knew what it was like as a kid to run into an NHL player and have them snub you. I’d never be that guy.
“Banks? Banks Slater?” one of the boys called after me. I heard a quiver in his voice and almost smiled. Yeah, I was a big deal in the hockey world. An all-star, award-winning league scoring leader. I’d done it all except for winning a Cup. My personal fantasy had been to bring a Cup to my hometown of Detroit. That dream had been ripped from me with the trade. The Sockeyes had a better shot at the Cup this season than Detroit anyway, especially with me on the team.
I wasn’t being conceited, just honest.
I plastered a friendly smile on my face and turned to face the boys. “Hi, boys.”
“Oh my god, it is you.”
“Sure is.”
The other kid stood back and stared but didn’t speak. I noted that hockey duffel bags sat at their feet.
“Could you, would you mind signing something for us?”
“Not a problem. What do you have?” I tried not to show my impatience. I could afford to give them a few minutes. I recalled as a child how destroyed I was when one of my fave pro players snubbed me.
They rummaged through their bags and each produced a puck. I signed both. “Here you go.”
“Could we have a selfie?” This request came from the quiet kid.
“Sure.”
I stood between them and grinned for the camera. They were beside themselves with joy.
“Take care, boys.” I winked and hurried inside, feeling good about making their day. I grabbed my skates and headed for the Sockeyes rink. I was later than planned, and I didn’t know if Jessie would wait for me or leave. I passed through security with a wave to the guard and slipped into the rink. The bleachers were empty, and no one was around.
My heart sank. I’d missed her. She was gone.
I heard the scrape of skate blades on ice and whipped around. Jessie had been putting away cones and emerged from the end of the rink onto the ice.
Her face lit up like the lamp on a net after a goal when she saw me, and I grinned back, inwardly singing with joy at the sight of her.
“You’re still here,” I exclaimed.
“And you’re late,” she teased with a sassy smile. I resisted the urge to lean over the boards for a kiss. Instead, I plunked my ass down on the bench and laced up my skates.
She moved away. “I’m going to dim the lights so no one thinks this rink is still open.” A few seconds later, only the middle strip of lights illuminated the ice. The atmosphere was…
Romantic.
Now why the hell was I thinking of romance?
Hell if I knew, but I liked it. A lot.
