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Yesterday, Mads informed me that the team is insisting on a companion to make sure I behave the rest of the season. A companion. A babysitter. That my position on the team is dependent on it. In other words, I don’t have a choice. I’m sure she’s been waiting since the moment that Oakley and I broke up to get back at me like this. I could see it written all over her smug face.
“Yeah, I know,” he admits. “You’re mad because you’re getting a sitter for the rest of the year.” He chuckles again.
I glare at him, seeing no humor in the situation.
“The way I see it, you earned a sitter,” he says, like it’s so simple and acceptable.
We stand, and I reluctantly start walking toward the exit with him. Ollie slaps a hand on my shoulder. I shrug him off.
He grins. “Let’s go out. Let me buy you a beer. Maybe a drink will wipe that sour expression off your face.”
“Not likely,” I retort.
But I find myself agreeing even though he’s annoying the shit out of me right now. Only because it sounds even less appealing to go back to an empty apartment tonight. Although maybe I should take advantage of the solitude since it sounds like I’ll have a roommate I never asked for soon.
We take a rideshare to a local hole-in-the-wall bar, where we won’t cause as much of a stir after our game tonight. I’ve heard that the owner’s good about helping us keep a low profile.
Ollie and I arrive, sit in a corner booth, and drink the IPA on tap, only getting approached by a couple of people in the process. We take a few pictures and shake a few hands, finally trading out the booth for the pool table in the back.
We don’t talk about my situation again, sticking to easier topics instead. But about halfway through the game of pool, I ask a question that’s been on my mind since I arrived in Chicago.
“I was shocked when the Hawks picked me up. I was even more surprised to learn that you had something to do with it.” I lean forward and line up my shot, knocking a yellow striped ball into the side pocket. “Why’d you do it? I always thought you hated me.”
Ollie is perched against the wall with his cue stick loosely gripped inside his hand, watching me shoot. “I did.”
I chuckle, realizing he’s only partially kidding. “So, what changed?”
“You stopped dating my sister,” he admits honestly and without hesitation.
I reach for my beer and take a big gulp. “You didn’t have the same reaction when Chase started dating her.”
“That was different.”
“Different how?” I ask. I miss the next shot. “Because I hadn’t been friends with you for most of my life?”
“It had nothing to do with that. You were never serious about Oakley,” he says before lining up the next shot and drilling a solid into the corner pocket. He grabs the chalk and rubs it over the end of the stick. “And she was crazy about you.”
“That’s not true,” I balk. “I was serious about Oak. We dated for almost a year.”
He gives me a look.
“I was serious, at first,” I insist, but it has less force behind it.
“You were a selfish little shit back in the day.” He leans down for another shot. “I don’t know; maybe you still are. But either way, you weren’t right for her. I know it, and you know it. And I didn’t want you with my sister, bottom line.” He drills another shot.
“And Chase is right for her?” I challenge him.
He pauses from his position over the table and raises his eyebrows. His expression is serious and stony. “Yes.” He shoots, and another ball falls into the pocket. “Chase has loved Oakley all his life. He knows everything about her. And he’d do anything for her.” He pins me with a hard stare as he rises to his full height. “What was Oakley’s favorite restaurant in high school? What about her favorite color? Her favorite flower?”
I stay silent because I don’t know any of those things. And he knows I don’t know. He’s making his point. I think back to the coffee Chase was pouring for her years ago in our kitchen in college. He knew exactly how she liked it. It’s such a simple thing, but I never paid attention to those little details.
“Okay,” I sigh. “Point taken.”
“Look,” Ollie starts, “you and I have had our differences in the past. But I think you’re a good guy, Sam. Way down deep.”
We both smirk.
“And I know you’re a great hockey player. I wanted you here, and I made it known. You’re an asset to this team. Just because you weren’t right for my sister doesn’t change any of that. And just because you’ve acted like an idiot off the ice ever since doesn’t mean you won’t be a force in the arena.”
