Page 36 of Thin Ice

He set the heating pad against my hip on the low setting, without saying a word. Then he settled back and pulled me into him.

I lay there with my eyes open.

Warmth seeped into the joint. Elias's breathing was slow against my neck, but he wasn't sleeping.

"You know what I keep thinking about," I said.

His arm tightened a degree as he listened.

"My alarm goes off at 4:45, and for three and a half years, I was the only one who ever heard it. That was by design." The rain had slowed, barely audible. "When this run's over, whatever happens with the Cup, I don't want to go back to being the only one who hears it."

Elias didn't say anything.

I found his hand in the dark, and his fingers closed around mine, like that was the only answer he could give.

Chapter eleven

Elias

The alarm went off at 4:45, and for the first time, I wasn't hearing it through two walls.

"Rise and grind, old man." Maddie Brickner's voice, tinny and delighted, sounded six inches from my head. Nolan reached his arm across my chest, and the phone went dark before she could say it twice.

Neither of us spoke. The rain had stopped, and at some point in the night, Nolan had turned the AC off and cracked the window open. I smelled the wet pavement and the honeyed scent of linden trees.

It was Game Two day, and I knew Nolan's sequence by heart: feet to the floor and slow work on the mat, but I'd never seen it happen in the bedroom. I only heard breathing and the occasional grunt.

"Are you doing it here instead of in the living room?" I asked.

He sat up and swung the legs over the edge. "Yeah, I'm taking my room back," he said.

I didn't offer to help. He had it under control himself.

Nolan turned toward me. "There's a second mat in the closet, if you want." I got up, grabbed the second mat, and rolled it out on the far side of the bed.

I did my own work while he followed his routine. I stretched my hips, hamstrings, and my left shoulder, which was starting to feel its age. We both breathed into the movement, but we didn't talk.

I hadn't decided what to do with Nolan's confession from the night before, that he didn't want to be alone anymore. He'd said it openly, and I let it hang, with nothing in response.

While he took his shower, I padded to the kitchen to make coffee, grinding it fresh. My phone buzzed while the machine ran.

Michael: The two units that changed hands since Jan. #4B is an estate sale, probate docs check out, buyer is a cardiologist with a Wash U appointment. Clean. #7A is a corporate lease. LLC registered in Delaware, which means nothing and never does. Still unwinding it. More when I have it.

Nolan appeared after showering and went straight for the coffeemaker. He was quiet, which I interpreted as focused. The Steamers had an opportunity to move ahead two games to none before the night was over.

At the door, he stopped. He put a hand flat on my chest.

"Tonight," he said, and then walked to the elevator.

After morning skate, I drove the SUV out of the players' lot into a bright morning, the streets still washed clean by the rain. I turned us down Market Street out of habit, and Nolan said, "Not yet. Take a right here."

I looked at him.

"Just drive," he said. "I'll tell you where."

I followed his instructions. Wherever we were going, it wasn't on the schedule.

"There's something I want to show you," he said. "We've got twenty minutes."