Page 32 of Pucker Up
Ethan had grown up in Florida and started his career there. “What do you think of playing for Toronto?” I asked. He had been on the team a year longer than me.
He shrugged. “I was pumped to get traded. I thought the fans here would be wild, and it seemed like the Tigers were on their way to the finals.”
Nodding, I pushed over the bucket of balls with my club and nudged one towards the tee. “I thought the fans would be crazy too. Season tickets are too fucking expensive for the wild crowd, I guess.” Toronto had insanely expensive season tickets thatwere mostly bought by corporations. Toronto fans were tame in comparison to some of the smaller cities.
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed. “Also, the weather sucks. The houses are expensive and I prefer women in bikinis to Canada goose parkas. But I really don’t care about that shit. All I want is to win the Cup again. Toronto seemed the place to be…for that.”
I let the comment linger in the air between us. Before Gideon and I showed up, Toronto was returning to its glory days. Focusing on the ball, I took the club back slowly and then completely topped the ball. It dribbled off the platform onto the astroturf. “It’s a good thing your slap shots are better than your golf shots.” Ethan flagged down a server and had her bring us a round of beer. He cracked one and handed it to me, and then cracked the other.
“To the golf season. May it come late this year.” I held up the can. Ethan and I both knew that a delayed start to the golf season meant we were still in the playoffs. Ethan’s eyes betrayed him. He glanced away before smiling and tapping his beer can to mine. “To a June golf season.”
I sipped my beer and wiped my mouth with the back of my gloved hand. Before I could take another shot, Ethan stopped me. “When you do a slap shot, where is the puck?”
“What?” I stepped out of my stance. “It is wherever it is.”
“Kind of like a wherever you go, there you are kind of thing? How zen of you.” Ethan set his club down on the mat. “Pretend the ball is the puck and you are going to hit the perfect shot into the top corner over the goalie’s shoulder. Stop thinking so much.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I imagined skates on my feet, and instead of a white ball, a black puck. I shifted forward, putting the ball further ahead in my stance, then drew the club back and smashed the shit out of it.
Ethan raised his hand and I high-fived him. “That’s how it’s done.” He took another gulp of his beer and leaned on his club. “What about you? What do you think of the team?”
I shrugged, wanting to get back to hitting balls to see if I could replicate the shot. “I grew up in Northern Michigan, so I’m used to the shit weather, and I think parkas are sexy.”
Instead of hitting more balls, Ethan took a seat on the bench behind the platform. “What do you think about this study Coach is making us do?”
Ethan was one of the ten guys selected to be a part of Goldie’s paper. I picked up my can from the ground and sat next to Ethan on the bench. The cracks of golf balls punctuated the air around us. “It’s probably a good thing. I mean, the more we learn, the better, right?”
“Yeah.” Ethan slung his elbow over the back of the bench. “I feel like we’re being punished though, more like volun-told, not volunteered.”
“Have you had one?” I asked.
“One what?”
“A concussion.”
“Of course.” He shook his head as though I’d asked him if grass was green.
“Maybe we’re the ones who have had the most knocks to the head and that’s why coach picked us for Goldie’s study.”
“Goldie?” Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Are you on a first-name basis with professor hot tits?”
I stiffened, but couldn’t blame Ethan. Goldie’s rack was fucking phenomenal. His eyes would have to be swollen shut to miss them. “She’s not my type.” It wasn’t a lie. Goldie wasn’t my usual “type.”
“What’s that? Smart?” Ethan jabbed me with his elbow. “Yeah, me neither. She’s a keeper. That’s the kind of woman we end up with ten years from now, not during our prime.”
“You’re such an ass.” I laughed, relieved that Ethan wasn’t ready to settle down and that he recognized Goldie was on a whole other level. “Have you had a session yet?”
“Yeah.” Ethan finished his beer and crinkled the can before tossing it perfectly into one of the bins. “I thought everyone went yesterday.”
Everyone went yesterday?
“Not me. What kind of stuff did she do?”
Ethan ordered another round of beer and two more buckets of balls. “She probed me.”
“What?” This time I didn’t hide the surprised look on my face. My brow crinkled into furrows beneath the brim of my Tigers hat.
“Right up the ass.”
