Page 84 of Center Ice
Drew looks up Fluff and shows Graham the picture on his phone.
“Do you think my hot chocolate is cool enough to drink yet?” Graham asks. “I want to taste the Fluff.”
“I don’t know that you’ll be able to taste it, specifically,” Drew says. “It’s more that it will make it sweeter and creamier.”
I pick up Graham’s drink and take a sip, determining that it’s not too hot for him. “Wow,” I say to Drew as I hand Graham his cup. “What’s in that? It’s delicious.”
“Family secret,” he says with a shrug. “I can’t tell you unless you marry into my family.”
“Mom’s never been married,” Graham says, as he holds the warm cup between both palms and looks up at us.
“Easily fixed,” Drew says, giving me a wink.
“I know!” Graham says, his whole face lighting up. “You two can get married. Then Mom won’t be all alone.”
“I’m not all alone,” I tell him as I reach out and brush my fingers across his cheek. “I’ve got you.”
“But you could have Drew, too,” Graham says, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I love his wide-eyed innocence.
Drew keeps his lips pressed together, but there’s no doubt he’s laughing.
“That’s not exactly how getting married works,” I tell him, then give Drew a look that I hope communicates how awkward it is that he just opened up this conversation.
“How does it work?”
“You know what,” Drew says, “I’ll explain it to you later. Right now, we need to get going before all the apples get picked.”
When we head out the door behind Graham, I reach over to pinch Drew’s side, and I’m disappointed to find nothing but chiseled muscle—there’s barely anything to grab onto. In response, Drew snakes his arm around my back and pulls me close, then whispers, “That was your turn,” in my ear. He gives me a devilish smile, and I roll my eyes.
“Donotpinch me back.”
He drops his voice even lower. “Or what?”
“Try it and find out.” I give him a little wink as I saunter over to my SUV and grab Graham’s booster seat.
Once it’s settled in the back seat of Drew’s Jeep and Graham is all buckled in, I give him his cup of cocoa and a warning about not spilling it.
“It’s a Jeep,” Drew says. “If he spills, I’ll hose it out.”
I take a look at the interior, which is much more luxurious than I realized the last time I was in here. Then again, the only thing my illness-addled brain retained from that night was the way it felt to be in Drew’s arms. “You can hose this out?”
“Yep. It’s part of the allure of having a Jeep.”
“Why? Do you get it very dirty?”
“In the summers, I generally leave the top off unless it’s raining, so yeah, it can get pretty dirty.”
“Hey…” Graham says from the back seat. “Why do you have rubber ducks lined up across the front?” I glance back at him to see his nose scrunched up like he’s trying to figure out why a grown man has plastic ducks along the dashboard in his car. It’s a fair question, and I vaguely remember asking something similar the night he took me for the strep test.
“It’s a Jeep thing,” Drew tells him. “It’s called ‘Getting Ducked.’ When you see another Jeep, like in a parking lot or something, you leave a rubber duck on the windshield or the driver’s side mirror. And when someone sees my Jeep, they leave me a rubber duck.”
“Do youhaveto leave a duck if you see another Jeep?”
“No, it’s more like if you see one that’s just like yours, or one you really like.”
“Do people know you’re famous when they leave a duck on your Jeep?” Graham asks, and I watch Drew’s cheeks pull up and his throat bob as he tries not to laugh.
“I’m not really that famous,” he says as he backs out of the space and heads down the alley to the street. “I’m just lucky that I get to play hockey for a living.”
