Page 42
Ryan’s eyebrow raises again. “Like I said, I saw the way he looked at you. He’s into you. But this is unchartered territory for him. He needs a guide.”
“Like gay sherpa.”
“Is that what we’re calling Gavin these days?”
I choke on the laugh that bubbles out of me.
“Actually,” he says. His lips twist up in thought. “This might be more of a Connor thing.”
“Do not get him involved. I do not want Ander to feel manipulated.”
“You say that now.” Ryan shakes his head. “But in time, we might need to call in some reinforcements.”
“Perhaps,” I say and sigh. “Let me try on my own first. I still do not know what it is I want.”
“Yes, you do.” Ryan rises from his seat. He places his hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Go after what you want, Nikolai. You deserve happiness. Even if that happiness is from the goalie we need to get through to win the Stanley Cup this year.”
I look out the window as he walks away. Somewhere in the air out there, Ander is on the Blizzard’s plane flying to Dallas. I sigh again. I wish he was here right now.
Ander
“Pay up, pretty boy,” I say as I lay my cards down. A full house. Kings over threes.
Connor should have known better than to sit down at the card table on this flight. This is my domain outside of the hockey net.
“How?” Connor asks. He reaches across the table and pushes up my, sleeves looking to see if I’m cheating. It causes me, Tavish, and Leno, one of our defensemen, to cackle.
Tav, Leno, and I run the card table on the plane. It’s always us and whatever brave soul who wants to take us on. I still can’t believe Connor decided to be our victim today.
“Come on, babe,” Gavin says, appearing at the side of the table. He holds his hand out, then tugs Connor to him. He nods his chin at me. “You, too. Coach wants to speak to you.”
My stomach drops through the plane and I’m guessing, judging by how long we’ve been on this flight from Vancouver to Dallas, it lands somewhere in Kansas. With my nerves on alert, I wipe my now sweaty hands on my pants, then rise from my seat and follow Gavin to the front of the plane where the coaches sit.
Coach Mathews puts down his notes from last night’s game and gestures for me to sit in the seat facing him. The worst. I hate riding backwards on planes. Gavin takes the seat next to him, and Connor sits beside me.
Coach looks at Gavin. “I said Bouchard. Not Kennedy.”
“Yeah, well, this one”—Gavin points at me—“was fleecing Connor at the card table. So I grabbed them both.”
“I can go.” Connor begins to rise from his seat.
“No,” Coach says. “You’re an alternate captain. You can stay.”
Connor sits back down as Coach focuses his attention on me. His face is stern.
I wipe my hands on my pants again. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I played well yesterday. We beat Vancouver four to one. There was even a text waiting for me on my phone from Nikolai congratulating me on the win.
“Last night,” Coach says, “I saw traces of your old self again. What changed?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I was less in my head, I guess.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Gavin and Connor share a glance. Gavin shakes his head, but I can feel Connor suppressing a smile beside me. He’s tight like he’s trying not to laugh.
“But what got you out of your head?” Coach continues. “Because whatever it was, I’m going to need you to keep doing that. We’re counting on you this season.”
Nikolai. An image of his friendly green eyes and soft smile flashes in my mind. My lips lift.
Feeling more confident now that I know I’m not getting my ass chewed out, I joke, “As opposed to every other season?” I look around. “Is there another goalie around who won us two Stanley Cups?”
