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“So, she didn’t know who you were when you met?” Conor asks, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s a hard ask. I’m Rowan fucking Landry.” I play it off because she did admit that she reads the hockey blogs. Which means she knew my reputation—my false reputation—before I talked to her.
“Look who’s pretending to be cocky now.” Conor motions with a gloved hand my way.
Tweetie skates around me and steals the puck. “You should be cocky. Settling down at this stage of your career is really shitty to the rest of your crew.”
I’m pretty sure Tweetie is joking, but there’s something in the way he’s trying to play it off like he thinks monogamy and settling down are a bad thing that I’m not buying.
“Exactly, I just got here. Come on, you can’t prefer dinners in with your girl over a club filled with girls grabbing for your dick.” Conor rotates his neck, cracking it.
I’m happy to see Coach coming out. He’ll get me the hell out of this conversation.
“You guys sound like Neanderthals.” Henry, being the disciplined player he is, skates back and forth, working on his footwork.
“You already strapped yourself down with Bodhi, so we gave up on you a long time ago.” Tweetie shoots me the puck, and I skate behind the net and down to center.
“And you’ll die a lonely old man.” Henry raises his eyebrows. “Don’t give Magic shit just because you already passed up on your soulmate.”
Fuck, Hensley really went there.
Tweetie’s jaw clenches, and I prepare for a showdown, but I get why Hensley said it. You come after Bodhi, he’s gonna fire back. “She obviously wasn’t my soulmate, and don’t talk about shit you don’t know about.”
I shoot Tweetie the puck to give him something to concentrate on other than beating Henry to the ground.
“Back at you,” Henry says, his mouth a firm line.
“Fine.”
“Way to deal with your aggression, boys. I’m proud of you.” Conor laughs. “I thought for a moment I’d be able to grab a unit at The Nest. Oh, can I tell you…my little sister knows what that place is called.”
“Sister? I like sisters.” Tweetie stops skating in front of Conor, whose eyes narrow.
“Not on your life. She already knows never to date one of my teammates. I made that clear a long fucking time ago.”
“Jeez, it’s like you’re sweetening the pot. I like the challenge too.” Tweetie grins. “And now you’re living with me for the foreseeable future. Why don’t we have a sleepover with her and get to know each other better?”
Conor’s expression says it all—try it, and he’s not going to be as gracious as Henry. I’m pretty sure you cross that line with Conor and that calm demeanor he usually displays will turn feral. Even in college when he’d mention his sister, it was obvious he was overprotective.
“Okay, boys, let’s go!” Coach shouts.
Thank God.
Our first practice isn’t bad. We’re split into drills. I’m excited to be back at it even if my nerves about starting the season strong are always under the surface.
After my shower, I’m packing my bag, and Henry sits down next to me. Half the locker room has already cleared out. Conor and Tweetie left a few minutes ago to get something to eat. Henry has to get Bodhi, and I’m heading to Leigh’s—right after I buy a box of condoms.
“If you want to talk, I’m here.” Henry zips up his bag. “It looks like you’re struggling with something lately.”
I stare at my duffle bag between my feet. “I’m good.”
“Rowan,” he says, “you don’t have to play her off to me. I get it.”
I look beside me. “Who?”
He shakes his head. “Someone I used to know a long time ago. But we were young, and she needed to find herself, and it wasn’t going to be following me around so I could play hockey. I let her go.”
The thought of letting Leigh go feels like being crushed by a thousand-pound weight.
