Page 11 of Overtime Positions
But I had to try.
Leading me to nervous jitters as I walked through the rink’s public space, toward the locker rooms, directly past the bar.
Directly past Frankie.
She was behind the bar, washing glasses, with her signature knot of long dark brown hair tied up on top of her head, dark makeup and a black-and-white checkered flannel.
I was early, and our team beers weren’t sitting on the bar top yet, which had been my plan. So, as I neared the busy bar, she hardly glanced up at me before continuing what she was doing. “I’ll be right with you.” She spoke.
“No hurry. I've got time.” I replied, taking a seat, and her head snapped up in my direction.
“Elliot.” She looked at me confused and then up at the large Budweiser clock over her cash register. “I thought I was running late for a minute.”
“You’re all good, I’m early.” I smiled, hoping she’d relax if she saw I was. Instead, she tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her ear and dried her hands off.
“Can I get you a beer?” she asked.
“That would be great.” I pulled my wallet out and laid a ten on the counter as she exchanged it for a Coors Lite, my drink of choice. Even if Coach Rick ordered us all Labatt each night. I drank it because it was free, and I was a dude who didn’t look at a cold beer in the face without drinking it. But having my favorite was better. And knowing Frankie remembered it was even better. “So Tiny Tots, huh?” I asked and smirked when she let out a huff, blowing her bangs back.
“If you ask for a blowie, I’m going to steal the keys to the Zamboni and run you over with it.” She deadpanned, pointing her bottle opener at me before cracking the lid off a bottle for another customer.
“Asking for them takes all the fun out of it, so you’re safe. Unless you’re offering?” I joked with a wink, and I couldn’t be sure, but as she turned away, it seemed like her cheeks started blushing.
And then she avoided me altogether at the other end of the bar.
“Harassing my favorite ball buster?” Coach Rick asked, sliding onto the stool next to me with a nudge. “I wouldn’t recommend it. You don’t have thick enough skin.”
Frankie smirked and made her way back to my end, as if with Coach Rick at my side, I was safer.
Interesting.
“Don’t you boys have pucks to chase?” She asked, sliding a beer across the counter to him and leaning on her elbows. “Or puck bunnies to chase?”
“Ooh,” I grimaced, grabbing my heart. “You wound me, Black Cat. When was the last time you saw me flirting back with one of those?”
“True.” Rick clanked his beer to mine, “But they chaseyoua whole lot.”
“It’s incredible actually,” Frankie sassed, “Who knew beer league hockey was so popular. You’d think you were famous with how many groupies you have.”
“Hmm.” I leaned forward and tilted my head to the side, “You sound jealous. Want to join my fan club?”
“As if.” She cut back without missing a beat, “Pretty boy jocks aren’t my thing.”
“What is your thing then?” I asked, rejoicing in how she didn’t back off or deflect me like she usually did. Her standing still long enough to bicker with was refreshing. And exciting. “I’ve never seen you pay any man, jock or not, attention.”
Rick snorted, standing up off his stool as Frankie instantly handed him another can to take with him. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
We both paid him hardly any attention, as Frankie raised one perfect dark eyebrow at me. “Maybe it’s men that aren’t my type.”
“A lesbian?” I pretended to be shocked, “Now that’s a date I want to be a third wheel on.”
She rolled her eyes, barely cracking a smile. “You wish, Sunshine.”
I opened my mouth to tell her just how much I did, when a shrieking whistle broke our stare off, drawing our attention to the entrance.
Frankie’s son Toby and his sister Emmie ran in through the front doors like two wild tornadoes full of energy and chaos. Toby had a whistle between his lips, blowing his freaking mind off as Emmie passed a puck back and forth between her stick, wearing a Yosemite Jersey that hung to her knees.
“What the hell?” Frankie leaned back, shaking her head. “What are you guys doing here?”
