Page 8 of Shift Change

Dog stepped inside and froze. “What the hell?”

“Welcome to Holky’s Center for Athletic Excellence.” I swept my arm like I was unveiling a new planet.

He walked forward, and his head moved in jerky fits and starts as he tried to take everything in.

“Not gonna lie, this is quite the place,” I said. As I had in the game room, I pointed at things, feeling a bit like a flight attendant showing where the emergency exits were. “Rubber mat flooring—and note the turf strip down the middle. Over there are racks of dumbbells. Youwillkeep them arranged in their beautiful gradient from baby weights to NFL-lineman ridiculous.”

“This is better than most commercial gyms I’ve been to.”

I gave what I hoped was a playful scoff. “Dude, we are professional athletes.”

“This professional didn’t even know it was possible to have something like this in a house.”

I resumed the tour, walking around this time. “Over here are several of the finest cardio machines to accommodate mood, needs, and guests. There are two Peloton exercise bikes, a treadmill—also Peloton, a STEPR Pro stair climber, and a Cybex arc trainer.”

Since Dog was checking things out on his own, I didn’t mention the punching bag, squat rack, or mounted Samsung TV that was programmed to tune itself to the NHL Network.

“Is that a sauna?” he asked, pointing at the glass door across the room. “And a—holy shit, a freaking cold tub?”

I nodded solemnly. “You know it, man. I suffer for greatness.”

“You’ve got a whole spa in there.”

“Not quite, but to round things out, there’s a hot tub upstairs, out in the garden.”

“Shit. I’m surprised the guys aren’t over here twenty-four seven.”

“They’re around quite a bit. Now, over here…” I led him across the room to the shooting pad. “I had this installed last summer.”

“You practice in here?”

“Got to keep the hands silky.” I grabbed a stick, stepped onto the synthetic ice, and snapped a puck at the net. It rang off the crossbar and came back at us.

Dog jumped, but I snagged the puck out of the air like a ninja. “Reflexes of a jungle cat.”

He stared at me, then broke into another laugh. “You are such a showoff.”

“You’re impressed, huh?”

He shook his head but didn’t lose his smile, so I handed him the stick to take a few shots.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he said, then put a puck squarely in the net.

I backhanded his arm. “Careful, Dog. If you hang out in here too long, you’ll end up jacked and gorgeous like me.”

He snorted. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on. I should show you where you’ll sleep before you start deadlifting furniture.”

Dog’s room was on the main level, down the hall from mine, and we each carried a suitcase. After we set them down, he nodded in appreciation. “This is nicer than any room I’ve ever had. It’s big, and I’ve got my own TV.”

“Yep. It’s hooked up to all the cable channels, but if you want to play video games, you’ll have to go downstairs.” I pointed to a door on the far wall. “You have your own bathroom right in there.”

“Wow. Thank you.”

I sat on the bed and patted the spot beside me. “Try this. It’s the same mattress I have in my room. You’ll sleep like a log.”

“No doubt. I’m good at catching the Zs.” He sat beside me, bounced a few times, and lay back. “Goddamn. How do you get up for morning skates?”

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