Page 2 of Icing the Play

Ace poured sauce over the pasta in a large bowl and mixed it all together. “If you could join any team next year, which one would you choose?” With a grin, he brought the spaghetti to the table and sat in the chair next to mine.

Zoma brought plates, silverware and bottles of Gatorade to the table, then dropped in across from me and next to Ace. “Let me guess, Canucks or Blackhawks?”

I scratched my neck, thinking about it. “It would be nice to play with Tyler and Rowan, so I guess I’d go with the Blackhawks, eh.” There wasn’t a chance in hell that would happen. Maybe for my younger brother, who was fast becoming a juniors sensation back home in Chicago…

“Would you ever consider moving back to Canada? You have Canadian citizenship, right?” Ace scooped loads of spaghetti onto the plates and slid one in my direction.

“Sure, Vancouver is a beautiful city, and I still have family there.” I grabbed a fork from the table and cut my pasta into bite sized lengths, scooped it onto my fork and ate some.

“Dude, why the hell do you cut your pasta? Remember when the guys used to give you shit about it?” With a wide grin, Ace shook his head and twirled his fork in his food.

My heart spun with warmth. “I don’t know, just alwayshave.” I cut more pasta and held up a forkful. “Now I do it just to fuck with you all.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Ace chuckled. His face went slack. “But seriously though, has your dad set you up with an agent yet?” He shoveled pasta into his mouth.

I pressed my lips together, my gut knotting. With this being my senior year and all the guys signed but me, the pressure was on. “No, he hasn’t.” I’d hear about it from Dad any day now.

“But your dad’s an NHL lawyer, right?” Zoma drank some Gatorade. “He’s got to have some good connections.”

“He does.” I pushed pasta around on my plate. Should I admit this out loud? “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for the NHL.” Fuck, I’d said it.

“What?” Ace dropped his fork on his plate with a clink and stared at me. As he lifted a finger to point at me, he said, “That’s nonsense, Myles. I’ve seen you do some amazing shit on the ice. You were living in the shadow of Mason and Jonah back in the day, but this is your year to shine. Don’t you ever think you’re not good enough. Not on my watch.” He locked his gaze on mine.

My eyes pricked. If only that were true. “Yeah, okay.” Hanging my head, I cut more pasta and stuffed it into my mouth. It was better to keep my insecurities to myself. Ace didn’t understand that some guys just didn’t have what it took.

Later that night,I chilled on my bed, resting against my pillows at the headboard and watching a few South Park episodes on the television sitting on my dresser across from me. I had to get up early for the morning skate. Then there were classes right after. It was always hard to sleep on the first night before classes.

My phone buzzed on my bed, resting next to my thigh,Dadscrolling across the top.

“Fuck.” My pulse picked up. It was kind of late for him to be calling. Hopefully, something bad hadn’t happened. I tapped the screen and held the phone to my ear. “Hey, Dad. Everything all right?”

“Hi Myles. Yes, we’re all well here.” A motor sounded in the background. “Sorry to call you so late, but I just got home from a dinner meeting with an agent.”

“Oh.” I winced. Damn, I knew this was coming. “And?”

“And it went very well.” He chuckled. “The agent’s name is Dean Wilson. He signed?—”

“Tyler Hodge. I know.” I straightened off my pillows. How the hell had he gotten Tyler’s agent? A sly grin worked over my mouth. I bet Tyler played a role in this. “So, what happened?”

“He said he’d look closer at you. Since you played with Tyler the last few years, he’d already seen your moves on the ice.” He breathed in deeply. “Myles, you need to step up your game this year.”

My chest pinched. “Yeah, I know.” I slumped. I’d been gelling well with Neuman, the center who took over after Mason left for the Coyotes. Who knew? Maybe I had a chance. “I’m doing my best, Dad.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure I should tell you this yet, but Dean is signing your brother. He thinks he can get him a deal with the Canucks.”

Dad’s favorite team. It figured. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Ethan’s only seventeen.” I had six years on him, and he was already getting an agent? But then, he excelled in every team he played on. Not like me…I sighed and paused the television. “Okay, tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

“Dean is going to call you in the next couple of days. Just talk to him. Let him know what contract terms you’re willing to accept. Even if he can sign you with a minor league, you can continue working on your skills and?—”

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll think about it.” What if I was happy with a regular job and leaving hockey behind me? No way I could tellhim that. Dad had always wanted a hockey career for me and my brother. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Hey, how’s Mom doing?” I owed her a call.

“She’s fine. She can’t wait to see you play this year.” He cleared his throat. “Look, son, I know all your friends have gone off to the NHL and maybe you’re feeling alone now. But maybe it’s time for new friends, you know, some that aren’t, uh…queer?”

Fuck. I fisted my hand over my thigh. I knew this would come up. He’d always known about Tyler. Everyone did. But with Mason and Archer coming out as queer in the NHL, my cover with my family had been strained at best. But they still believed I was straight. Maybe they didn’t want to know any different. It was easier for them to believe my lies and half-truths. “Yeah, I’m getting along really well with Neuman and the new goalie, Sutton.” Another half-truth.

“Good, well, work hard and I hope things pan out with Dean. He seems like a good man,” Dad said.

“Sure.” My throat tightened as if I was being strangled. My anxiety was about to start. Would I getanysleep? “I’ll let you know what he says after I talk with him.”

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