Jordy huffed through his nose. “Who’s playing?”
Her eyebrows went up. Her wineglass went down. She set it on the table next to her. “So it’s serious, then? I kind of thought we’d have heard about him if that’s the case. Plus there’s the whole, you know, separate bedrooms thing.”
“It’s complicated.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “Big brother, do you have any otherkindof relationship?”
“Hey!” Jordy didn’t think that was fair. “Sanna wasn’t complicated.”
“Yeah, well, maybe if she had been, you wouldn’t have gotten divorced. Love’s supposed to be messy.”
It was embarrassing to get love-life advice from his younger sister. The wisdom of her statement only made it worse. “He just got a job in Toronto,” Jordy said meaningfully.
Emma played dumb. Apparently she wanted Jordy to say it. “So?”
“He’s a good friend, and maybe if my job couldn’t send me to live in California or Florida or BC tomorrow, or maybe if he had a job he could take with him, then sure, maybe I’d ask. But his life is here and mine is….” He shrugged.
“For how long, though?”
“What?”
“Come on, Jordan, how much longer are you going to play? Will you be subject to bouncing around the continent? I mean, you’re not planning on pulling a Jagr, are you? I’m sure you could figure out how to manage long distance or whatever for two, three, five years tops.”
“Gee, thanks for putting an end date on my career,” he grumbled to avoid answering the rest of her question. That was a lot of uncertainty to put a relationship through, even if he didn’t plan to play into his fifties.
She poked him in the ribs. “Fine. We don’t have to talk reasonably tonight.” She sighed and then, with a twinkle in her eye, added, “But do tell me more about this fake date at a gala.”
Jordy groaned theatrically but gave in and told her about his run-in with Rowan at the charity ball and their mutual agreement to use each other as cover. It was a good story, so he spared no detail and had her laughing into the cushions.
Later, when she left to find her bed, she kissed the top of his head and murmured, “Just remember, you deserve to be happy too. That’s all I want for you.”
Which was a ridiculous thing to say. Jordywashappy. He had a great career and a great kid, and he couldn’t imagine anything better.
Except maybe someone to share it all with, but Jordy couldn’t just will such a person into being.
Maybe because he’d just seen Baller the other day, but he thought about how Gabe Martin was now following Baller around the continent. Baller had played in three different cities in the past four years, and Jordy didn’t doubt that Gabe was the one managing their home life, organizing moves, building their new homes, dealing with their daughter when she threw temper tantrums over having to leave their lives behind.
And their situation was so different. Gabe was retired; he’d had his career, and he had more than enough money to be a stay-at-home dad. Plus, with an Olympic gold and a Stanley Cup, he had pretty high career satisfaction. Then there was the fact that Gabe was Reyna’s parent—they had adopted her together, after being married for years.
All of which meant that Gabe wasn’t new. He wasn’t a twentysomething at the beginning of his career contemplating a new relationship. He was a retired married man who had probably made the decision to support his husband’s career this way even before he stopped playing hockey.
Sighing, Jordy tidied the living room and the kitchen and then headed to bed. If he paused for a moment near the closed door of Rowan’s suite… well, no one was around to witness.
BUT BYthe next afternoon, Jordy was half-convinced he and Rowan were cursed.
Emma was safely dropped off at the airport, and judging from Kaira’s current behavior, the day was already successfully tiring her out and preparing her for an early bedtime. Everything had been progressing perfectly. Jordy had perhaps zoned out once or twice thinking about all the ways in which he could ruin Rowan tonight. Sure, Rowan had begged to be fucked, but there were so many paths and positions to achieve that goal.
And now those plans were going up in flames thanks to the updates in the team chat.
To help us all cope with the tragic loss of our favorite most-Canadian and wisest veteran—sorry Sully and Jordy—we are taking advantage of this preseason trade to raise a glass with our A one last time.
Jesus Brady. He’s been traded, not assassinated.
laying it on thicc brah!
Drinks drink drinks!
As I was saying! You’re all invited to Overpressure on Bloor at 7pm for drinks, snacks, and thorough roasting of Hiller.
