Page 80 of Riding Pine
The way he just says that, like it’s the best thing to ever happen to him, makes me feel fuzzier than the outside of my beaver suit. He means it. He won’t be sitting back in his seat. Lukas will be the one hooting from his seat and clapping the whole time.
“Are you blushing right now?”
His shoulder bumps mine as we enter the player doors and nod to the security men.
“No, beavers don’t blush.” I push at his solid chest, but he holds his ground. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”
He places a sweet kiss on my nose. “Anything for you, Ben.” He leaves me at my change room like he didn’t just send my heart into a tailspin.
“Beavers don’t blush,” I mutter as I begin my pregame stretches. “But boyfriends not used to this kind of thing do.”
The game is a rough one, and I know Lukas wishes he were on the ice.
Despite being excited to cheer for me, I caught him shaking his head and throwing his hands in the air at the action in front of him more than once. Honestly, I can understand his frustration. There’s an opposing player who is an absolute douche, and he needs a good punch in the face.
Or a stick to the ribs. Whatever. I might not know hockey well, but I know there are ways.
With five minutes remaining in the second period, I haul beaver ass to the booth with the game MCs to make sure my props are in place, and they all know the script for my performance. Every time I talk to them, it feels weird. They’re the only people I talk to for the entire game with the Slappy head on.
“I’m loving this, Slappy!” The guy with blond hair says. “I’ve got your stuff all set.”
“How are you at improv? That number five on the other team is a dick. I want to poke at him a little,” I ask, and the group laughs.
“I know. Too bad Pine is out tonight. He’d have made him bleed already.”
Totally true. I’ve watched Lukas. He would’ve spent more minutes in the penalty box than on the ice by now. The sin bin, as they call it. Honestly, I don’t get that name. Is it a sin to break a rule in a game? Seems a tad dramatic, but that’s hockey, I suppose. Part skill, part athleticism, and part acting.
“Do we have a printer handy?”
“Yeah, I can improv. What are you thinking?” The blond guy says.
“I can print if you’re fast.” The girl offers from the corner.
Turning towards her, I give her my instructions. “Print number five’s face or number. Enough for each target. If Pine can’t punch him, I can slap him.”
With a laugh, she flies off, promising to have what I need at ice level in the next seven minutes.
“The silk comes down tonight. I’ll meet you on the ice.”
I don’t wait for the man to reply. Instead, I detour quickly to the washroom. You can’t concentrate on justice with a full bladder.
On the way to ice level, I crane my neck to search for Lukas, and he’s still in the same spot. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, and waiting like much of the crowd for my performance. When he sees me, he gives me the most adorable wave, and I make a heart with my hands.
“Fans, tonight we have a twist on Slappy’s target game. Before I tell you what that is, I need to ask you this. Do you miss our captain tonight?”
When a loud cheer rises, I glance up, and Lukas waves.
“Slappy wants to fill in for him tonight. What do you think?” The blond announcer holds up the opposing team’s jersey with the number five on the back. There’s a riot of laughs and cheers as the other helpers move to tape photos of him over the targets I aim at with the balls.
While they do that, I make a show of flexing my biceps and bouncing like a boxer on my toes. It’s the loudest the crowd has ever been, and I just hope I don’t fuck it up.
The crowd favourite is always when I smack the ball into the target with my tail while holding a one-armed handstand. Thankfully, it’s also what I’m best at. The first ball smacks the target, and the crowd goes wild.
“Slappy, here comes ball two!”
That smack goes a little wide and only catches part of the target. I lower myself back to my feet and whisper in the announcer’s ear, then motion for them to drop my silk from the rafter.
“Slappy says he needs to make the third target count. Do you think he can do it from his silk?”
