Page 38 of Hell Bent (Portland Devils #5)

PREGAME SHOW

Sebastian

On the team bus in snowy Buffalo on our way to the stadium, and I was checking my phone.

Alix would be heading into work now. Before seven on Saturday morning, Portland-rainy and cold and not even light yet, and she’d be driving from my place, where she’d stayed with Ben last night.

And had not mentioned her birthday to me, even though it was in two days.

I had a bet with myself about whether she’d ever do it. So far, I was winning.

Of course, by the time she’d got to my apartment last night, I’d been in the hotel room here and trying to sleep.

That was the hardest thing about playing on the East Coast: trying to get to sleep three hours before your body wanted to do it, because you had to play a football game the next day, especially when that game is, according to your body, happening at ten in the morning and you have to be up many hours beforehand.

It’s not like you have any adrenaline running through your body at the prospect of that playoff game or anything.

That was why, when she’d texted me, I’m at your place. Ben’s good. Excited about your game, I think. Nervous for you, I hadn’t texted back “Thanks,” or whatever. I’d hit the button to video call her instead.

“Hey,” she’d said, sounding strong and confident and composed. A little too composed. No makeup, hair in a ponytail, and looking good. Looking like Alix. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Trying to get myself ready to sleep. How was work?”

“Sebastian.” She laughed, and then I heard the sound of a door closing and saw a bed in the background, which meant I shoved a pillow behind my back and got comfortable.

Shutting the door was a good sign. “Work was dirty, wet, and cold. We pulled wire, amazingly enough. I think you’d better tell me how your work was. ”

“I rode on a big airplane with all my friends,” I said. “And then on a big bus. We didn’t sing songs.”

“We’re some fabulous conversationalists,” she said, and I laughed.

“Did you guys eat?” I asked.

“Yes. Ben said you said to order food, but that he had to let me pick it. It was a good idea to get him a credit card. I just hope you didn’t put too high a limit on it, because he was talking about video games again tonight.

‘I can’t even play NFL Street, and my uncle’s an NFL player!

If I ever make any friends here, that’s going to be, like, totally humiliating.

Thomas and I went to the Museum of Science and Industry instead today.

That would’ve been great if I wore Marvel T-shirts and hung my phone on my belt.

Or if I was ten. Or it was the 1950s.’ Much whining, but he also told me about touring the submarine when he forgot that it had been boring, so I suspect it wasn’t absolutely horrible. We got Mediterranean.”

“Ah,” I said. “Vegetables. ”

She laughed again, and I was smiling, too.

“Charred broccolini,” she confirmed. “Coffee roasted sweet potatoes, which are amazing. Rubbed shrimp. Brussels sprout hummus with pita. Beef and lamb kebab with eggplant relish. Persian chicken meatballs. Radicchio salad. He complained that all the food was weird and he didn’t recognize anything, but he ate about three platefuls.

Including the hummus and the sweet potatoes and a little bit of the broccolini, but he drew the line at radicchio, which is why that’s the only thing left over.

He says vegetables aren’t too bad if they have sauce or are, ‘like, not gross.’ Progress, though he was a little disgusted at my veto on pizza.

I told him I was keeping myself beautiful for you. I hate to tell you, but he snorted.”

I was laughing for real now. “I appreciate you keeping yourself beautiful, but I’m fairly sure you burn as many calories in a day as I do.”

“I could also totally have made chili or something,” she said. “You don’t have to provide. See, here’s the deal: I can provide.”

“I know you can. But I appreciate you letting me do it tonight.” She exhaled, and I said, “What?”

“How am I supposed to argue with that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I suspect you’ll find a way. You’re in my room, huh.”

A long moment, and she said, “I’ll move into my room to sleep, but I was in the living room and?—”

I said, “Do you want to know what I’d like you to do?”

“No,” she said. “Yes. Maybe.”

“Well, that’s definite. I’d like to know that you’re sleeping in my bed. Comfortable, not in that single bed. Warm.” I didn’t say, Ready for me to come home to you, but I thought it.

“Your office isn’t exactly freezing,” she pointed out.

“Hey, it’s snowing here, I’m in a king-size bed in a hotel room all by myself, and I traveled with close to two hundred people today, maybe six of whom were women. I’m playing this football game tomorrow, too. Are you really going to begrudge me a little pleasure?”

“Far be it from me,” she said, “to interfere with your pleasure.”

“Good. So what are you wearing? I can only see your face.”

“Sweatpants. You’re not here, and I got cold today.

I’m not dressing up for Ben. And seriously?

I thought you were trying to go to sleep.

What, you want to have phone sex now? I’ve never done it, and I think I can say with certainty that I’m no good at it.

I’d just get all embarrassed and tongue-tied, and then you really couldn’t sleep, because you’d be totally frustrated. ”

“See,” I said, “here’s the deal with phone sex. You don’t have to say anything. You just show me your face like you’re doing, and I do the rest. This is what we call the pregame show.”

She said, “Uh …” But her eyes had gone a little dreamy, I thought.

“Lock the door,” I said. “Come lie down again. And let me tell you how I would’ve taken off that blue dress you wore on Christmas.

I would’ve had you keep on the shoes, though.

And I’m sorry, but in my version, I’m afraid you’re wearing a thong.

And on your hands and knees. Possibly doing a little … crawling.”

“Sebastian.” It was a breath, and those eyes were definitely unfocused now. “I haven’t even locked the door.”

So that had been fun. It had helped me sleep, too.

Now, I checked my phone again. Good. A text.

I had the hardest time getting to sleep last night. You got me all charged up. And I could barely look at Ben. Good luck today. I’m so proud of you.

Also not bad .

Three hundred pounds landed beside me, and Owen Johnson said, “Getting the loving support from home? Or is Alix out here? And Ben?”

“You’re impressive at this team-building thing,” I said. “Remembering his name.”

“Hey,” he said, “family’s important. So are they here?”

“No. She had to work. Six days a week, ten hours a day. Not much time off in there.”

“I feel you,” Owen said. “Dyma can’t come to most of my games during the regular season. College, and all the way out in Colorado. Can get kinda lonely. For her too, though she spends the weekends with my folks, so that’s better.”

A loping figure heading down the aisle, slipping into the seat ahead of us, and turning around. One guess. Kristiansen said, “Owen giving you a pep talk? Kicking in this wind’s going to be tougher, yeah, and playing in the cold, but you’ve got one hell of a leg.”

I said, “I’m from Ottawa. It’s going to be 33 degrees at kickoff, and I’ve got a big old warm jacket to wear while you guys are out there doing the hard work.

Know what it is in Ottawa today? Eleven degrees.

I’m all good kicking in the cold. Now, if I were sprinting down the field, slipping on the icy snow and trying to catch a ball in my freezing hands … ”

Harlan said, “Bismarck, North Dakota. High’s minus 5 today, and let’s just say that my high-school stadium didn’t have a dome.

Played my college ball in Nebraska. Close your eyes, and you might as well be in Bismarck.

Or don’t close your eyes, because it looks about the same.

Snowy and flat and the wind blowing horizontal, and ninety thousand fans freezing their butts off. ”

Owen said, “Thirty-one today in Wheatland, Wyoming. The low’s supposed to be minus 2, though. Does that count?”

“No,” Harlan said. “Pussy.”

I smiled, but I also said, “I’m not saying I’ve never had a kick sail wide in the wind, but I know how to adjust for it, too.

If you’re worried about me not being able to play in the cold, stop worrying.

Premier League soccer’s August to May, and I played in Newcastle.

That means ninety minutes running in little shorts in the cold rain and wind and no warm jacket at all, making sure my kicks went where I aimed them.

I’m not going to be the problem. I’m all good. ”

I sure hoped it was true.

Alix

I hadn’t seen Sebastian since Wednesday morning, and now, I wished I had.

He’d suggested picking me up from work on Wednesday night, but that could have been because he’d mentioned it in the heat of the moment the night before and hadn’t wanted to hurt my feelings.

I’d met the guy two months ago, though, plus I’d run from my wedding because I hadn’t been ready for commitment.

I needed to keep my head on straight, think about my life and my plans and …

Besides, he hadn’t got enough sleep that night, and his game today, after only a six-day turnaround, was all the way across the country in Buffalo. After flying to Canada on his one day off to see his dying sister.