Page 135 of Pucking Strong

“What?” says Novy.

Feeling flustered, I sip my beer. “I’m just saying, we talk all the time. He’s full of interesting conversation,” I add, setting the beer aside.

“I’m sure he is,” says Morrow, which somehow makes me feel even more awkward.

I glance to Henrik, giving him a pleading look. If he’s willing to change, I need this to be an area where he puts in a little more effort. I mean, is this how he makes his way through all the team dinners? Offering nothing? No anecdotes? No engagement? Am I supposed to just sit at his side as his silent plus-one?

Picking up on my unease, Henrik clears his throat, setting his beer aside. “Jake, how are your children, Jamie and Tuomas?”

I wince. Okay, so his delivery could use a little work. But I’m giving him an A for that effort. He’s come a long way from not knowing any of the children’s names to getting them right on the first try. Reaching under the table, I squeeze his thigh.

Across the table, Jake stifles a grin. “My children, Jamie and Tuomas?” he repeats, using Henrik’s robotic cadence. Caleb very unsubtly elbows him again, and he adds, “They’re good, man. Thanks for asking.”

“They’re looking forward to meeting the new babies in a couple months,” adds Caleb.

“Can you believe there’s gonna be three more Li’l Rays soon?” says Novy. “Man, how did we all get so lucky?”

The conversation turns to their kids and comparing the status of their pregnant wives.

I lean in towards Henrik, giving his thigh another squeeze as I lower my voice. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“But you’re not saying anything.”

He shifts away from my touch.

I let my hand drop to my lap. “Well, amIallowed to talk?”

He raised a confused brow at me. “Of course. My silence should have no bearing on your participation in conversation.”

“See, but you just said more in that sentence than you’ve contributed all night.”

He just shrugs. “Leave it, Teddy. We have a rhythm.”

Well, from where I’m sitting, the only rhythm he’s a part of is circulating the air around the table with his breathing. I always knew he was the ‘strong, silent type,’ as Jake called him. But the Henrik I know has only ever been easy to converse with. He can talk aboutanything from hockey to current events to Dadaism. Hell, he can do it in three freaking languages!

So, why is he content to sit here like a house plant?

And why do I feel like if he’s not talking, I shouldn’t be either?

He sets his beer aside, rising from his stool.

I sit up a little straighter. “Where are you going?”

“Restroom,” he mutters.

I watch him walk away, locking eyes with an older man he passes. The man holds up his camera, giving me a knowing nod. Oh fuck, our voyeur is here, ready to take pictures of this supremely awkward evening.

Ijerk a few paper towels out of the dispenser, roughly drying my hands. Behind me, a toilet loudly flushes. Christ, this is such a disaster. Why did I agree to do this? I didn’t want to. I should have said no the minute Poppy proposed the idea of a group date. I like my teammates, and I enjoy their company. And I really do care for their families. But their lives are their own. I’ve never been one to interfere or engage.

And Teddy is different. Who I amwithTeddy is different. Is it so wrong that I like the Henrik I am with Teddy to be different than the Karlsson I am with my team? At this point, the two versions of me feel all but irreconcilable.

We should leave. We can still salvage the rest of this evening. I should go out there, drag Teddy off his stool, and take him back to that hot dog stand on the beach. We went there on Karolina’s first day in Jacksonville. We can eat hot dogs and drink more beer, and I’ll let him ask me as many questions as he wants. We can talk until the sun rises. Then I’ll take him down to the surf and kiss him in the waves.

This is a good plan. This is safe, and comfortable, and intimate. All things I like when I’m with Teddy.

I toss my used paper towels in the trash and head for the door. I only get it halfway open before Ilmari Price pushes his way in, towering over me with his massive 6’5” frame. There’s a reason he won an Olympic gold medal and two Stanley Cups. The man is built likean iron giant, and he has the flexibility of a gymnast. Even retired, he’s still in pristine shape.

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