Page 9 of Game Winner
A line of celebration emojis follows his words and then,Call me ASAP.
My mood lifts at his enthusiasm. Coach said this would be a good opportunity for me. We’ll see, but being in the same city as Soren and Bax could be a plus.
I wait until I’m at the airport, checked in for my flight, and tucked into a chair with a coffee, to return his call. I’ve been thinking of him and Bax since we parted four days ago. The three of us have exchanged texts about music, food, and video games. And after what happened today, I really want to see his face, so opt for a video call.
His face fills my phone screen, smiling wide. He’s in the Slash’s locker room, pulling a shirt over his head. The sounds of chatter and metal doors closing echo around him. “I can’t believe they traded you here.”
“I wasn’t expecting it. I’m still in shock.” And reeling. And overwhelmed.
“Good shock or bad?”
“I’m disappointed things didn’t work out with the Stallions, and nervous about starting over again. Knowing there are some friendly faces there helps.”
He grabs a bottle of sports drink from a shelf, frowns at it, then shrugs, pops it open and takes a swig. “Gio, Phil, and I have your back in the locker room, on the ice, and off. The Metros boys will say the same thing. Whatever you need.”
“Can I get a ride with you to practice tomorrow? I need to be there early to sign the contract, then meet the coaches and team after that.” With every trade, there’s so much to do. I blow out a breath. At least if I can go with Soren, I won’t have to arrive on my own. “I don’t think the hotel room the team got me is far from your house.”
“You can always ride with me.” Warmth shines in blue eyes that remind me so much of the lake I went to every summer, its waters dark and deep.
I slump into my seat, relieved I have one less thing to worry about. “Thanks.”
Someone in the locker room says his name and he looks up, then passes over his drink.
“Soren, what the hell is this?” Laughter accompanies the intruding voice. “Blue raspberry? Where’s your standard strawberry?”
He shrugs. “I was in a rush this morning and must’ve grabbed the wrong one.”
“I thought you were averse to change. Same pre-game meal, same post-game and post-practice drink, same rituals and routines?—”
“Yeah well, what am I gonna do, Stephens? Go thirsty instead of drink my only option? You know what, you can have it.” His ears turning pink, Soren huffs a sigh and waves the guy and the rest of the blue raspberry drink away.
“You do only drink the strawberry one.” I remember that from our offseason training.
“Don’t tell anyone, but that one swig of blue raspberry tasted wrong.” He makes ablechface and I can’t help but chuckle. “I’ll need to get some strawberry on my way home.” His gaze flicks over my shoulder, to the corridor of luggage-laden people passing behind me. “Getting traded while on a road trip is the worst.”
“Yeah. I only have T-shirts, shorts, and one suit in my bag, so I guess shopping for warmer clothes and stuff after practice is on my To Do list.” Thinking about all the things I have to take care of—clothes, toiletries, finding a place to live, getting in sync with new linemates—ratchets up the level of overwhelm. “I need to figure out what to do about my car and all my stuff.” The thought of trying to coordinate getting everything packed up and shipped makes my skin itch, but I don’t want to carry rent on two places. “I guess the first step is actually finding a place to live so I have somewhere to put everything.”
There’s a ticking clock on that. The team only covers a hotel room for a few weeks.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” The lockers behind his head shift as he moves to a different section of the room. “We have a guest room that’s yours if you want it. You can move in here.”
“Really?” The question comes out in a squeak, so I clear my throat and try again. “With all of you?” But mostly, with Soren?
Soren, whom I kissed. Soren, whom I watched kiss Bax and was so turned on I practically dry humped him on the dance floor. Soren, whom I haven’t stopped thinking about. What will it mean to live in the same house and play on the same team?
The sound of rustling and murmured voices comes through the speaker. Soren nods at someone beyond the phone and smiles. “Gio and Phil want to say something.”
“Hey, Ty.” Seated beside Phil on the bench in front of their lockers, Gio waves at the screen. “Everyone in the house is on board. You can stay as long as you want, whether that’s a few weeks, or a few months, or the rest of the season.”
Phil finishes buttoning his shirt. His wedding band, a twin of the one on Gio’s finger, gleams in the light. “Fair warning, Remy’s pet gets loose sometimes, so you could find a bearded dragon in your bathtub, but that doesn’t happen too often.”
“We’re all here, so you won’t be navigating an unfamiliar city on your own. We can carpool to practices and games, and we’ll steer you to all the good food places,” Soren adds, walking to stand behind the pair.
I can’t believe they’re offering to open their home to me. More than a home, an instant group of people who’ll have my back. I’ve felt alone for so long, and this is like being thrown a life preserver at the moment of exhaustion. “That’s really generous. You’re sure I won’t be in the way?”
Gio links his hand with Phil’s. “Positive. There’s always room for friends, Ty.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Thanks. I’d like to stay.”
