Page 95 of Hockey Halloween
“And you want me to sign some?” he asked hopefully.
She gave him A Look. “Duh, but you know that’s not what I’m asking. I need to get at least ten players to attend. I’m at seven.”
“Great. I can put some pressure on some of the newbies?—”
“I need star power! You’re the fan favorite around here.”
“Only because Barczyk got traded,” he mumbled. She ignored him.
“Your jersey sells the most,” she said, ticking off her fingers. “You went to the All-Star game last year. You’re our most veteran defenseman and alternate captain. You’re hotandsingle. And…” She paused dramatically and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t make me say it.”
His shoulders slumped. “And I owe you,” he said.
He did owe her. Gwen had covered for him multiple times regarding his sexuality. There were other out players in the league, thanks in part to Lars Nilsson’s accidental self-outing a few years ago. The responses had been mostly positive, but Brock had seen how much attention those guys had gotten. Attention wasnotBrock’s friend, and he’d much rather stay closeted if it saved him from the press. He’d go the route of no longer hiding when he dated someone, but he didn’t want a press conference talking about his sexuality, so whenever reporters poked around, Gwen handled it.
“Hey,” she said, finally sounding serious. “Sorry, I didn’t want it to sound like I’m not glad to help you out with that. I was just hoping that my being happy to help you meant you wouldn’t mind helping me out too.”
“It’s fine.” He waved a hand. Gwen had been in his corner for three years now; he knew that when she asked for favors, it really was just that. Asking. “A Halloween party? I just gotta schmooze with fans for a couple of hours? No speeches or anything?”
“Oh, God no. I remember when you won the Norris. I’d never do that to you again.” When Warner had won the Norris Trophy last year, it had been a real honor. His acceptance speech had been all of three words:thank you everyone.When Gwen reviewed the footage with him, she used the word ‘constipated’ more often than anything else. “You just gotta wear a costume and mingle. I’ll have a players-only area where you can recharge. Some photos, maybesome ball hockey with some kiddos, and you’ll be off the hook for the rest of the season. Pinky promise.”
“Good.” He paused in consideration. “I still want in on casino night and the dog calendar. If you need me.”
Gwen laughed. “See, this is why I ask you to do the fun ones. You're a good sport. Thanks, Warner. You’re a sweetheart underneath all that scowling and brooding.”
“I don’t scowl,” he grumbled, realized he was indeed scowling, and smoothed out his face. Brock also didn't tell her that she reminded him a lot of his little sister, which had endeared her to him well before she’d taken over the team's social media full time. “And no problem. So I need a costume…?”
“Oh,” Gwen said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I can find you something if you want.”
They had an eight-day road trip coming up ahead of Halloween. Unless he took care of it tonight, he’d probably forget and be stuck with whatever he could pick up at Target on the way to the party. And honestly, he was curious about what Gwen would pick out for him. So yes, he was more than happy to hand this off. “Yes, please.”
She already had her phone out. “On it. I'll have it mailed to your apartment.”
“Thanks, Gwen, you're the best,” he called over his shoulder, using her momentary distraction to escape. Just in case she tried to get him to film a promo video for the party.
Felix
Felix Owens was on his way to the gym at his apartment complex when he saw his elderly neighbor Dolores coming his way. He melted at the sight of her—she was the absolute sweetest woman on Earth—and pulled her in for a hug.
“You’re not headed to the gym, are you?” he teased.
Dolores chuckled. “No way! I’m headed to the sauna.”
“You’re making me jealous,” he said. “You get to relax, and I have to go work out.”
Dolores grinned up at him. “That’s my reward for being retired, sweetie. And I don’t think you can complain too much. I just saw Mr. Hunk head into the locker room from the gym. He looked extra sweaty today.” She winked at him, and Felix nearly choked on a laugh. He really shouldn't have mentioned his crush on the hottie on their floor, but oh well. Her teasing was all in good fun. He’d forgotten how much he’d enjoyed giggling with his friends back in high school over cute boys.
“Well, then I better hurry up. Wouldn’t want to miss my chance to say hi and wow him with an actual coherent sentence this time.”
“It was pretty bad the last time,” Dolores said, patting his arm sympathetically. The last time was the disastrous conversation whenMr. Hunk (God, they needed a better nickname for him) held the door open for Felix. The less said the better, but involved Thai food and an embarrassing amount of talk about gas and bodily functions for anyone’s comfort. He was never going to live that one down.
“No place to go but up,” Felix said with more confidence than he actually felt, but hey, he was more of a glass half full kind of guy, anyway. “I'll tell you if there's any hot guys your age at the pool.”
“Please do,” she said very seriously. “Plus or minus a decade is fine.”
When Felix arrived in the locker room, Mr. Hunk was indeed there and as sweaty as promised. He was glad Dolores had warned him ahead of time, because even knowing, Felix stood at the door staring with his jaw-dropped. Mr. Hunk’s nickname, silly as it was, was well-earned. He was tall,verytall, with sculpted features and steely blue eyes. He kept his chestnut hair trimmed short, and had a beard to match. Though he couldn’t be much more than thirty, maybe thirty-five at the most, there were little patches of gray in his beard that made him look distinguished. And the real gem, the thing that made Felix’s legs go weak, was how fit he was.
The guy wasbuilt. He wore shorts and a sleeveless running shirt that displayed miles and miles of muscle. The hard lines of his biceps were on full display as he toweled off, sweat glistening on his brow. When he turned to grab his gym bag out of his locker, Felix tried not to ogle his ass and thighs, but good lord! Those thighs should be illegal. His muscles had muscles. If the guy wasn’t a pro-athlete, then there was no justice in the world.
