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“But you know what…you didn’t do a damn thing right tonight.”
None of us have the guts to look up at him. He’s right. There was nothing positive to pull from the game we just played. Not one damn thing. Shaker lets out a shuddering breath next to me.
“So, this is what’s gonna happen. You’re going to go home, pack a bag and meet me back in here in two hours. We’re staying in a hotel tonight, having breakfast together, hitting the ice together, eating dinner together…and going out and winning the next fucking game together! We will treat every game from here on out like a road game.”
We look up wide-eyed.
“Got it?”
A few feeble yeses skitter across the room.
“I asked a question.”
“Yes…yes, coach, got it.”
“Did that qualify as a sucky game?”
“Yes, that very much qualified as a sucky game.” I can’t believe how good it is to hear Fynn’s voice. The game was as sucky as it gets. So sucky that I didn’t even mind sitting through Dad’s lambasting as I left the arena because I deserved it.
“What happens now? Sorry, I just got a handle on regular games, but the playoffs are still a mystery.”
“Well, for starters, Logan has decided we are all staying in a hotel in Denver tonight. He will whip our asses in practice tomorrow, then we fly to Seattle, and we play two games there. The series is best of seven, so first team to win four games moves on to the next round.”
“And the point of the hotel is?”
“Team bonding. He wants us all together for the rest of this series. No distractions.”
“Ah…is this call a distraction?”
“No,” I sigh. “This call is exactly what I need.”
I hear several quick chirps and look at the screen in my car. A detailed text from Logan about where we are staying tonight, etc. And then one from my realtor. That’s odd at this hour.
“Hey Fynn, can I call you back—”
“You don’t have to—”
“I want to. I just need to get up to my apartment and I’ve got a weird text I need to read. It’ll just be a minute.”
I open the text from Sophia, my realtor, as soon as I get into the building.
The house you’ve been eyeing by Sloan’s Lake is going on the market tomorrow!
Why are you up at this hour?
Same reason you are…hockey game winking emoji
I hit dial and kick the door to my apartment shut, toss my bag on the floor and look around as I wait for her to answer.
“What do you think? Do you want to make an offer?”
I laugh. I don’t just want to make an offer; I want the house.
“Whatever it takes,” I say.
“Okay,” she pauses. “You sound tired. That was a rough one.”
“That’s putting it mildly.” I rake my hands through my hair and across my face.
