Page 37 of Hat Trick
“These food options are going to give me a heart attack.” He scans the plastic menu and flips it over, snorting when he finds the sandwich offerings. “A five-cheese grilled cheese? Christ. Hello, high cholesterol.”
“Hey. I’m not here for a long time, so I’m going to eat the foods that make me happy. That includes a massive grilled cheese and a side of fries that are better than any orgasm I’ve ever had. You know what they say: fries over guys.”
“You have my attention.” Riley looks up at me. “Maybe the wrong people have been trying to make you come.”
“Maybe.” I bite my bottom lip and smile. This feels a lot like flirting, and I’m tempted to jokingly ask if he can do better. “And wait until you taste the milkshakes. They’re nirvana.”
“I’ve always been a fan of things that are sweet,” he says, and I swear his eyes flick down my body. “Why do you think I head for the dessert table first at team dinners? The salad can wait.”
“But you’re over here complaining about grilled cheese?” I laugh. “Make it make sense, Mitchy.”
“It’s different, Armstrong.” He leans back and stretches out his legs under the table. His knee knocks against mine, and he adjusts his position so we’re not touching. I kind of liked it when we were. “The game sucked tonight, huh?”
“It wasn’t the best performance, but the wins will come. It’s going to take some time.” I study him. “How are you doing? I’m sure it wasn’t easy to watch the guys play and not be out there with them.”
“It sucks, but what can I do? This is my life now. It’s not like I’m going to heal up and join them anytime soon. I have to get used to all of this at some point, no matter how badly it’s going to hurt to watch them succeed without me.”
“Have you been doing the exercises I gave you to do at home? The extra focus is going to help speed up your recovery.”
We’re late into September, and I’ve been kicking his ass during our rehabilitation sessions. For two hours a day, five days a week over the last three weeks, I have him on the trainer’s table, running through grueling exercise after grueling exercise.
There’s been progress in some of his movements; his hip flexors and abductors are more flexible. His balance is better. He doesn’t rely on any assistive devices when he’s moving around with his prosthetic on anymore, but his residual limb is still weak. His core muscles aren’t what they used to be, and I’m afraid he’s skipping the training he’s supposed to do when he’s alone.
“No.” Riley taps the table. “I’m tired when I get home from the arena after working with you and the strength and conditioning coaches, and…” He trails off, lifting his shoulder in a shrug. “Sometimes I wonder what’s the point?”
“You’re doing a lot right now physically. Being tired is perfectly normal.” I clear my throat, switching gears. We don’t need to linger on the things he’s not doing right. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your family. You’re an only child, right?”
“Wow. Diving into the personal shit, huh?”
“I don’t have a filter and I’m curious.”
“Don’t be that curious. I’m not special. I grew up outside Chicago and went to Michigan to play hockey.”
“I love Chicago. I’ve done the marathon twice. It’s a nice city.”
“A marathon and Pilates? Do you only like sports that kick your ass? Have you tried bowling? Table tennis?”
“They make me feel invincible, and I want to be ready to fight the patriarchy if society collapses.” I pause to give my order to the server. Riley puts his in too, and I grin when he asks for the grilled cheese with extra fries. “It’s also fun to be better than men at things. Running and Pilates put everyone on an even playing field.”
“I don’t know about that. You’d kick my ass in a marathon. Even pre-injury. I suck at running.”
“Isn’t skating just running with blades on your feet? Your stamina is through the roof, which would make you good at running.”
“I have great stamina,” Riley says, and thathasto be flirting. “Running is higher impact than skating. The blades absorb some of the momentum and force we’re putting on our bodies, and there’s not as much stress on your joints. I glide with my skates. Can’t do that while running. You have to take each step.”
“Skating takes a lot of skill. Balance, stability. I look like a giraffe learning to walk when I put on skates.”
“You want to talk about balance and stability? Your Pilates classes are hell. Actual hell. I think my soul leaves my body when you make us get in some of those positions. Who knew women in athleisure wear were strong enough to take over the world?”
“So, you don’t want to come to the group class I’m doing with the team the first week of November?” I tease.
“I didn’t say that.” Riley rubs a palm over his jaw. “It’s humbling. I’d like to be included even if I complain.”
“You’re welcome anytime. Even if you want to sit and watch.”
“Have you always been athletic?”
“Yeah. They’ve always been my happy place. I was a cheerleader and also played on the high school basketball team. When I went to college, I fell in love with hockey. There’s something poetic about a sport so brutal being so beautiful.”
