Page 128 of Most Valuable Players
“No, she did not.” What we had was much more honest—a quickie in a bathroom at a party last year. She wanted to continue the fun and I didn’t.
“Maybe I can help,” Ginny says. “I love literature.”
“Really?” Mav looks hopeful.
“Sure. Tonight?”
While they make plans, I sit back and watch Ginny. She’s nice, interesting, funny, and a little naïve. But naïve in that way that she still believes in the good of people and situations, and being around her makes me believe a little more too. There isn’t anything I don’t like about her. Every little detail. It’s safe to say Ginny Scott’s grown on me just like Neapolitan ice cream.
I look forward to our meals together. She’s never mentioned the gummy bear induced illicit kiss, and neither have I, but we both show up at the same time for breakfast and lunch every day to eat together. Sometimes Maverick and the guys are with us, sometimes not, but the two of us never miss.
Lunch friends. I can think of worse things to be. I can think of better things, too.
After lunch, I head to the rink for practice. I’m early, but I can’t wait another minute to get out on the ice. The weeks of preseason workouts on the football field are hot and grueling, but I’d do it three times a day if it meant stepping on the ice sooner.
Adam’s in the locker room already dressed when I walk in.
“Hey,” he says when he sees me. “Couldn’t wait either?”
“I barely slept last night,” I admit.
He chuckles and heads toward the door. “Guess it’ll be easy to stop you from scoring today.”
“You wish,” I call after him.
As I walk to the ice, I feel a sense of peace and an unbridled excitement. One month without skating and I feel like I’m regaining a limb. I respect Coach’s idea that a month of practice on the turf learning to work as a team makes us stronger before we step out onto the ice, but man, how I’ve missed it.
I breathe in the cool air as my skates glide over the fresh ice. I nod to Adam, who’s skating with that same look of joy on his face. We skate in silence for a few minutes before he juts his chin for me to join him. We take turns passing and shooting. I’m sweaty and breathless but in the best way.
When the rest of the team arrives, Coach Meyers and Coach Kelley start us with speed drills and then some power play scenarios.
My heart races and adrenaline courses through me as I skate hard.
“Move your feet,” Coach Meyers bellows from his spot in the opposing side fan section. “There you go. Nice.”
“I’m gonna puke,” Maverick says on a raspy breath as I fall back into line.
“How are you out of shape? We spent the last month running our asses off.”
“Can’t run this sweet ass off,” he says straight-faced. “Beautiful genetics, but not great for speed.”
I laugh. “You’re blaming your ass for being slow? Really?”
He smirks and takes off as Coach blows the whistle for the next person to go.
Practice goes by entirely too fast. The girls’ team practices in thirty minutes, so I can’t even linger like I want to.
Not everyone is so sad to be done.
Jordan’s face is red and splotchy and he mutters, “Oh thank god. I was burping ham and cheese. I swear it was coming up in the next five minutes.”
I’m the last one off the ice. Adam notices and laughs at what I’m guessing is close to a pout on my face. I’m totally not beyond kicking and screaming and throwing a tantrum if I thought it’d work instead of Coach Meyers making me run laps around the football field.
“Come on, Payne, I’ll buy you a beer.”
At The Hideout, Adam pays for two pitchers and sets it down on the table before handing out glasses.
Mav’s filled his glass and taken a long drink before the pitcher even makes its way to me. “Dude, maybe it’s the beer gut and not your ass that’s the problem.”
