I hoped to do it again, but let’s be real, time wasn’t on my side now. I’d been in the league for over a decade and it showed. I nursed my knees every day, all year round, and did my best to avoid major collisions after my last concussion had sidelined me for two months last year. I couldn’t afford to be off the ice. There were too many young talented players gunning for my job, wanting their shot at glory, and I wasn’t ready to give up. Life after hockey wasn’t something I wanted to contemplate.
Who would I be? What would I do? It had been hard enough to acknowledge Dad didn’t need me to play for him anymore. His life was full. He had Smitty, Nathan, Charlotte, and Ella, and I was happy for him. And for me. I’d always wanted to be part of a big family, and I had that now.
But in a funny way, I was still alone, wishing for a reason or purpose greater than myself.
Yeah, yeah…this was where the “Maybe you should try to meet someone, start a family of your own” advice usually poured in. I got it. A lot of the guys who’d come up in the league with me were married with kids. Some were already on their second or third marriages.
Me? I didn’t date much…never had. Hockey had always come first. It wasn’t that I preferred the occasional quick liaison with a stranger, but it was easier. No muss, no fuss.
Maybe it was time to try an app. I needed to think about something or someone else, stat. Someone who wasn’t Mason fucking Trinsky.
The fact that I’d replayed everything we’d done and said over and over in my head for days on end was downright disturbing. It was novel and new, and it had felt amazing to flex my bi muscle for the first time in years.
But Trinsky?Ugh.
“Okay, kiddos. Looks like we’re good on floaties and noodles!” Smitty marched into the yard with an inflatable rainbow unicorn around his waist and an armful of those Nerf-like swim noodles.
Nathan skipped in front of his dad, wearing Ella’s floaties like boxing gloves on his fists. “Woohoo! I helped blow them up for you, Ells.”
“I want the unicorn,” Charlotte called out.
“No,Iwant the unicorn.” Ella frowned, wiggling in her swing. “Will you slow me down, Jakey?”
I did as she asked and helped her jump off the swing, then stepped aside to avoid getting caught in the midst of a mini war on pool gear just as my cell buzzed in my pocket. I was going to ignore it, but as predicted, Ella burst into tears when Charlotte took the unicorn while Dad assured her there was another one for her.
Smitty and Dad could handle this crew, I mused, slipping my phone out.
“Hey, McD. What’s up?”
My agent whistled in response. “Who knew that a damn camping expedition would turn into a publicity boom? Me, that’s who.”
I slumped onto the nearest patio chair and groaned, head in hands. “Oh, brother.”
About that. McD was right. The post-season hockey lovers were hungry for news, and they couldn’t resist an orchestrated press ploy featuring two rivals forced to camp together. So cringeworthy.
According to…everyone, the video footage Ray had taken before his fall was a gold mine of snippy commentary and frequently bleeped-out zingers. He’d even managed to film us from the pit, adding to the lore of Team Trinsky-Milligan. The public had loved that we’d set aside our differences to help someone in need almost as much as they liked the consistent trash-talk.
The PR firm assigned to this “story” had interviewed the campers who’d vouched that we were a volatile pair, and that everyone had been shocked we’d survived not one but two nights in the same tent unscathed.
Of course, if they knew what had really gone on in that tent, they’d have beenreallyshocked.
But no, I wasn’t going to think about that. Or any of it.
I was in it for good publicity for Elmwood and…myself, I supposed. McD insisted that I needed it so…cool, it was done. Time to move on.
“I need you in LA this week.”
“Los Angeles? That’s nice, but I can’t. Juniors’ Camp starts Monday and?—”
“No can do. You’ll need the week off. Get this…” He paused for theatrical effect. “They want you on theHey, LAshow.”
I frowned. “Me? Why?”
“Trinsky’s from Southern California, and LA loves their native athletes.”Oh, for fuck’s sake.“They want to interview both of you and before you say no, you can’t.He’s involved with a charity for kids based in Los Angeles, and he’s supposed to do a plug for them. I’m not sure if it’s an image-boosting project for him, but you’ll look like a schmuck if you don’t show up.”
“But he’s the one from LA. They don’t need me.”
“Like it or not, you two idiots have chemistry. Don’t you see? That’s why this so-called feud gets press. You’re both good-looking jocks who play a notoriously rough sport, but you each have a soft spot for kids and giving back to the community. Sappy or not, we have to take advantage of public interest. This is good for you and your career,” McD insisted for the thousandth time in an unapologetically firm tone.
