My German friend narrows his eyes suspiciously. “You really want to talk about him, or are you trying to be a typical American with all that small talk?”
“I genuinely want to know. Even if I can’t stand the guy, I’m still interested in knowing how your team is clicking this season.”
“All’s good. How about you? Still enjoying being a Lynx?”
That’s a million-dollar question. Well, in my case, it’s a twelve million dollars per season question. Sure, I’ve been blessed to have played six seasons with the Lynx. But it’s getting sort of old—the never-changing routine and predictability are tiring me. This has been the longest time I have played for one team.
Just as I’m getting ready to answer, the server brings our drinks and food. I stir my coffee, pondering my answer.
“Honestly?” He nods, so I continue. “I sometimes wish they’d trade me so I could play on another team for a change. There, I said it.”
My friend sits straighter, his full attention on me. “Wait, are you unhappy with your team? I thought you were friends with the guys, and there haven’t been any issues with the management.”
“It’s not that.” I wave my hand in dismissal. “It just feels like my life has been the same for too long. And I’m tired of playing the role of a bruiser who’s always ready to fight on ice. Then there was that case withherearlier this year.”
“Many would be happy to have that stability. But yeah, it’sobvious all that nonsense drama hasn’t helped with how you feel.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my clean-shaven face. It feels strange after having a beard for most of my adulthood. “I might sound ungrateful for wanting out, but that’s how it’s been feeling lately.”
“You’re allowed to feel that.” His eyes fill with sympathy. “And don’t worry, your secret stays with me.”
“I trust you, Flick.” The nickname rolls off my tongue. “Em’s actually testing the waters for a possible trade.”
As expected, a mention of our mutual friend and sports agent, Emerson Merryweather, brings redness to Felix’s cheeks. So damn cute. The guy has been pining after her since their first Business 101 class in college.
“That’s, um, good.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“Stop. You know how things are between us.”
”Oh, trust me, I know it all too well. It’s obvious you’re not the smoothest when it comes to our dear friend Em.”
He shoots me a half-serious glare, though there’s a slight blush still lingering on his cheeks. “Well, it’s not exactly easy to do something about it after all these years.”
“Don’t overthink it, Flick. If you’re meant to be, it’ll happen. No matter how long it takes.” I pause. “But speaking of overthinking, what do you think about the trade idea?”
“If that’s what you want, then do it. Hell, maybe a change is all you need to feel normal again.”
“True.” I play with the rim of the cup mindlessly.
“You need to be sure, though. You don’t want to make a rash decision because you’re feeling restless.”
I hum at his words, letting them simmer. The conversation flows easily after, the way it always has with Felix.
Glancing at my watch an hour later, I realize I’ve stayed longer than my schedule allows. “The guys are waiting for me at the hotel, so I better get going.”
“Big plans for tonight?”
“Halloween party at some new club. Beck’s organizing everything. And I don’t even have a costume yet.”
“Classic Rasmus. Well, good luck finding something last minute. I’ll see you on the ice soon.”
“You can count on it.”
Back at the hotel, it’s easy to spot my teammates. Beck’s the loudest of the bunch, waving me over with a grin that’s practically his default facial expression. Lloyd and Ford are with him, arguing as always. Lloyd, a charming flirt, knows precisely how to push Ford’s buttons. He’s more of a silent observer type who’s always two steps ahead of the rest of us.
“About time.” Beck pretends to check his imaginary watch. “What’d you do, get lost in the big city?”
