His brain immediately conjured Maisie and he almost missed a step.
“Uh-oh. You can’t handle concrete, you gonna be okay on skates?” Aaron asked, grabbing the door and holding it open.
Nick shook his head, grateful, and a bit overwhelmed, by the easy way they picked up where they had left off.
The locker room was loud with laughter and talking when the three of them walked in. It smelled like sweaty guys and they hadn’t even started yet. Nick’s face scanned the dozens of faces and a small piece of him wanted to back up, turn around, and go. Did the guys resent him? Had he let them down?
“Nick!” This came from several of the guys at once and then he was surrounded. The guys high-fived him, asked how he was, asked about his Christmas. They didn’t treat him like they resented him for not showing up to practices or riding the bench at games.
Coach, a mountain of a man with slicked-back grayish-blond hair and a chiseled jaw that had gotten him his own pretty boy comments back in the day, walked into the room and it went silent.
One of the assistants had already laid out all of their gear but Nick looked at Coach instead of his uniform. Derrick West was a good man. A former player, he knew what he was asking of them when he asked. He demanded a lot, expected more, and all of the guys respected him. He’d texted Nick every few days to check in and it was Coach who connected him with a therapist, telling him his mindwas part of his body and as an athlete, he ought to know he had to take care of his whole body.
Beads of sweat dotted Nick’s hairline but he breathed through it as Coach met his gaze, gave him a subtle nod. The team had been together a day ago in California, so there was no need for talks or speeches or anything special. It was just another day at work for all of them. Except Nick, who’d pulled himself from the group and felt like he did his rookie year: a little lost, a lot overwhelmed, but also excited. Eager.It’s just practice. Get on the ice. No pressure, no fans. Just the guys, the puck, and the ice.
Nick could skate with his eyes closed and the minute his feet slid across the surface, he was pissed at having denied himself this simple pleasure for the last couple of weeks. Giving himself some time to free skate, back and forth, around the rink, weaving in and out of the guys who were doing the same, he forced his shoulders to relax. This was as much muscle memory and reflex as breathing. Vividly, he remembered the first time he’d skated out onto the ice as part of an NHL team. He’d been awestruck and positive that there was nowhere else on Earth that could compare. The blades whipping across the ice was one of his favorite sounds. He came to a stop, turned in a slow circle. He didn’t love the game any less. He just didn’t need it the way he once did. He could breathe without it.
Something shifted inside of his rib cage with the realization. The whistle blew, calling them all in. Time to work.
DINNER AT THE HOTELrestaurant was more low-key than he expected. It was… normal. The younger guys were still at the table when Nick decided to call it a night, wishing he could go back to Maisie’s and curl up beside her for the evening. Instead, he went to his room, flipped on the TV, and called her.
“Hey,” she said, picking up on the first ring. Just her voice madehis chest loosen with relief, like that moment when he untied his skates.
“Hey, yourself. How was your day?”
“It was good. I hung out with Lexi and Will for a bit then dropped by that gallery. I asked the owner what she was looking for specifically and asked a few questions about the contest, but I’m not entering it.”
He sat straighter on the bed, tilting his neck to the side. He’d kept up workouts but today was a lot. “Why the hell not?”
Maisie’s giggle came through the phone and his hand clenched around it. Fuck. Hemissedher. Was that normal? He’d just seen her.
“Because she said that I’m a well-respected talent that they’d be honored to showcase. The contest is meant to spotlight up-and-coming talent. She’s putting together a cooperative of sorts where established professionals mentor those new to their field.”
He closed his eyes, recognizing the feeling in his chest as pride. “That’s awesome, Maze. And well deserved. When will your work be up?” He opened his eyes and settled himself more comfortably against the headboard.
“In the spring. I had an idea I ran by her for an all-new series of photos and she loved it.”
“What is it?” He wanted to know. He wanted to be the person she told all of this stuff to first. The person she could rely on.Maybe you should take the first step to making that happen, coward. Tomorrow night.
“I’ll tell you when we’re face to face.”
“So, tomorrow?” Picking up the remote, he flipped channels, keeping the TV on mute.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Aren’t we spending New Year’s Eve together?” He tossed the remote on the bed, brows pushing together. They had plans. He’d never asked another woman to spend New Year’s Eve together. Hedidn’t date a whole lot but he knew holidays like that meant something to people.
“Yes. I think so. I mean, I don’t know how this works. I’ll be watching your game but I won’t see you before, right? Do I see you after? Do I meet up with you somewhere? Do you go out for drinks or something after or hang out in the locker room in your towels, talking to reporters?”
Everything in his head stopped spinning and he burst out with a deep laugh. “Babe, have you only ever seen sports in movies?”
“It’s not like they show a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff,” she said, her tone just short of snappy, which made him smile wider.
“They do, actually, if you know what to look for. There’s a friends and family room. Your name, Will’s, Lexi’s, and Ethan’s are on my list. Show up about an hour before the game if you want. There’s food and drinks. The game is at seven. It’ll go a few hours, then I’ll shower and head out of the locker room. I’ll have to speak at the press conference, I’m sure, since I’ve been out for a bit and people are curious. Then I’ll meet up with you and your friends and we can do whatever you want.”
A heavy sigh sounded in his ear. “Okay. That all sounds manageable. Are you good? Did today go okay? Do you need anything? Want me to try and sneak into your hotel?”
He almost said yes. A knock sounded on the door so he pushed off the bed.
