Page 110 of Pucking Strong

Novy snorts, switching to his normal voice. “It’s Novy, asshole. What do you want? Your husband’s busy right now.”

“I thought he was off at five.”

“I was,” I call out. “I’m being held hostage by a Canadian brute with tight calves!”

“He’s mine for the next three minutes,” Novy shouts into the phone. “You can have your precious husband when I’m done with him.”

“But we have reservations,” comes Henrik’s voice.

Oh fuck, was that tonight? No, no, no. I wrote it down. It was next week.

“Oooh, reservations where?” says Novy.

“High Tide,” Henrik replies.

FUCK.

How did I confuse the days for our first Poppy-orchestrated fake public date?! And what the hell am I supposed to do now? High Tide is a swanky seafood restaurant set right on the beach overlooking the ocean. It’s the kind of place with white tablecloths, and glass stemware, and a cocktail menu as long as the regular menu.

“Oh, nice,” says Novy. “Hey, get the whole branzino. And they do this dessert that’s a flight of mini cheesecakes. It’s so fucking good.”

“We have to make our reservation first,” says Henrik.

They keep talking about the menu while I totally spiral out. I didn’t bring anything to change into. Henrik’s probably out there in his Porsche in a suit, and I’m standing here with oil on my hands, rubbing Novy’s calf while wearing a Rays polo, Nike athletic pants, and a pair of running shoes. Fuck me, this is gonna be our Swedish wedding all over again. Poppy has arranged for a cameraman to be there!

In the middle of my freak-out, my phone timer goes off. Novy’s five minutes are up. He turns off my alarm, still talking to Henrik. “Hey man, we’re done here. I’ll send your guy out, okay? Don’t call the police on me. Hostage crisis over.”

I drop my hands from his calf and stand there like I’m frozen.

Novy rolls over, my phone still in his hand. “Man, I am so fucking jealous that you get the full Teddy treatment whenever you want. Coley likes to think he gives good massages, but honestly, he’s as bad as old Iron Fingers Brady.”

“Fuck you too, Novikov,” Brady says in parting. “Teddy, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I just nod.

As Novy stands from the table, he tries to hand me back my phone, still talking to Henrik. “Well, you two lovebirds have a nice time tonight. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, especially with a camera there.”

“I’m waiting outside,” says Henrik.

Snatching my phone from Novy, I force out something that sounds like, “Great, I’ll be right there.” Then I hang up on him. Novy goes to step away, and I grab his arm. “Please tell me that by some miracle you have a suit in your locker or your car.”

“What? Why?” He looks me up and down. “Aw, come on, you look dynamite.”

“I look like a high school gym teacher! Poppy’s gonna be spreading these pictures all over the fucking internet, and this is not how I want to present myself to the world. Novy,please. Do you have a suit or not?”

He narrows his eyes, flashing me the smirk that has devastated hearts in two countries and counting. “Give me my five hundred bucks back.”

I gasp, glaring at him. “Seriously?”

He grins, holding out his hand. “Dude, you’re gonna look so good. You might not even make it to the restaurant. Karlsson’s just gonna jump your bones in the car.”

Yeah, fat chance of that.

Seeing as I have literally no other option, I fish the money from my pocket and slap it back into Novy’s greedy hand. “I hate you.”

Idon’t like being late for things. In the hockey world, it gets drilled into us that being early is being on time. Planes don’t wait for us. Neither do busses. Reservations typically don’t wait either. And I didn’t make these reservations. I don’t even know the restaurant. My GPS says it will take us almost thirty minutes to get there. And Teddy still hasn’t come out.

What the hell is he doing in there? Probably still laughing and joking with Novy. The man is such a showboat. He’s my teammate, and he’s a friend, but …

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