Page 8 of Put a Rink on It

When I want to hug her.

I banish the thoughts, knowing that though we’ll be closer physically, it changes nothing else about our status.

Friends to the end.

Or until she says otherwise.

“All set. You’re officially a Hartford Naut.” Ember smiles, her perfect teeth on full display. “Is your move all set?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She raises a brow. “That sounds ominous.”

I sink back into the leather chair, rolling it away from the table with my foot, exhaling loudly. “Marina helped me get everything planned and organized. The movers come Monday, and then I’m on a plane on Tuesday. To a part of the country I’ve only visited. And now I have to live there.”

“But you’re closer to your girl.”

With a sad smile, I say, “She’s not my girl.”

Ember kicks my foot with hers. “You’re starting with a new team, a new adventure. Maybe it’s time to find a woman and settle down. Or, you know, lock down the woman you already have.” Her mouth curls into a smirk.

I tilt my head, peering sideways at her. “How many times do I have to tell you, our relationship isn’t like that? She’s my best friend. Nothing more. Besides, you want me to start a relationship on top of everything else?” A shudder runs through me, though I can’t be certain it’s related to the latter of my comments.

“I stand by what I said.” She crosses her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t realize my personal life was in your domain,” I scoff.

“It’s why I earn the big bucks. That, and negotiating a bigger contract for you.” She pats my shoulder. “You’re gonna love New England, Nero.”

I hope so.

CHAPTER 3

nero

My first practice with my new team goes as smoothly as it can, considering the guys I once played against are now my teammates. Signing with a new franchise is nothing new in hockey, and considering the higher-ups wanted me to help lead, the welcome I received could have been worse. It also helps to have a friend.

Finch Schurbatski, a buddy from college, is the goalie. As soon as I knew the trade was going through, I reached out. He seemed happy to be playing together again, and it’s definitely making the transition easier.

So far, my biggest hurdle is the time change. I’ve done a one hour difference before, but two is proving harder. I’ll get used to the earlier start time to my day soon enough. I don’t have any other choice.

I also need to make my barren apartment more like a home. One might think I shouldn’t get too settled since who knows how long I’ll be here. I don’t have forever long to play in the league, but I’m hoping to hit at least ten years. Unless my body has other ideas.

“Drinks tonight at seven at Tipsy Nutmeg. You in, Tempest?”

I snort at the nickname, a nod to my previous team. “I’m in.”

“Super. Let one of us know if you need directions.”

The practice facility locker room is a renovated version of the one back home. With the Nautilus being a new team, the entire facility is brand-new, built specifically for our use. It definitely doesn’t suck, especially because Minnesota’s is on the older side and needed upgrades before I became a player.

I won’t play in the first game until Sunday, which gives me a couple of days to settle into my new digs and learn a little more about my new teammates. As luck would have it, we’re scheduled to play Minnesota at the end of the month on my old turf. Should be an interesting matchup.

After showering and dressing back in street clothes, I say goodbye to the rest of the players, stopped in the hallway by the general manager, Giovanni Halpin.

“Champion, a word?” His tone indicates he’s not asking, so I follow him up the ramp into his office, which overlooks the rink from a private window. He takes a seat behind the mahogany desk, signaling for me to take one in the oversized chair. Tossing my bag on the ground, I sit, not letting the nerves shine through. “Good practice today.”

“Thank you, sir.”