Page 16 of Her Puck Daddies
“Will you please let them know that I’ll conduct myself with pure professionalism?” she requests. “Like I did with you?”
“Of course, I will. But I should warn you. They can be hard-headed. Especially Levi.”
“I’d like you to try.”
“I will. I’ll tell them they have nothing to worry about from you.”
We part on that positive note, but when I link up with the boys, things quickly take a turn for the worse. Neither of them are willing to listen to me, which is unusual in itself. Worse, as we get into practice, some of the weaknesses that come from not being as relaxed as possible start to rear their ugly heads.
“Why are you stiff as a board, Schwartz?” Coach demands, his tone sharp. And with Levi, he’s even harsher. “Not been stretching much, Corolla? Did you forget that you’re a goddamn goalie over the summer?”
Those who don’t know Levi well wouldn’t have caught the slightest flinch he gives, but I do. I bet dollars to donuts Eric notices it, too. Our goalie might be stubborn as a mule, but hockey is his life. Someone, especially coach, questioning his dedication will rattle him.
So, Levi’s got a choice to make. He can keep avoiding Ava and hope no one else catches on to what’s going on, or he can suck it up and go visit her.
I know it’s only a matter of time before the pressure builds enough for Levi to cave. He values winning above all else, even if he sometimes gets away with skirting his regimen. But if hekeeps pushing his luck, all his dominoes are going to fall. It’s only inevitable.
Even worse, as long as Levi keeps dodging Ava, Eric’s likely to follow suit. As close as Eric and I are, he and Levi share a bond that’s even tighter. Sometimes, I don’t think Eric even realizes he’s acting in solidarity with Levi, but it’s clear as day to me. It’s frustrating enough that I’m seriously tempted to brain them both, but physical violence, especially off the ice, won’t fix anything. Looks like they’re going to have to learn this lesson the hard way.
And, apparently, they realize this a couple days later at our first game of the season.
The passes click between the other players, and I’m able to rack up a goal and then an assist in the first period. But no matter how hard Eric tries, his passes are just off enough that they miss. It happens again and again, until one of our opponents finally steals the puck from him with a simple poke check. Then, later on, when one of the defensemen has a clear shot on goal, Eric makes a last-minute swipe that deflects it just enough to send the puck wide of the net.
Based on the beet red color of coach’s complexion and the vein throbbing in his neck, he is not happy.
And then there’s our goalie. Levi’s normally a brick wall, the kind of guy who can shut out any team on a good night, but tonight, he lets three goals slip past him. It’s one of the worst performances I’ve seen from him in ages. Fortunately for the team, we still manage to scrape out a win with four points, two of which I’m proud to say are mine. But the margin is too slim.
As pros, we all have our bad or off days, even when we follow our trainers’ and coaches’ instructions to the letter. Sometimes it’s just a matter of the team not clicking, or the other squad being that much better. But when the mistakes are preventable, when there’s an obvious fix that’s being ignored? So, it doesn’t surprise me when coach calls Levi in first, then Eric.
The walls of his office are thick enough that I don’t catch all the words, but when Levi finally exits, his face is a mask of frustration. His jaw is so clenched it looks like it might snap, and the scowl on his face could send someone running for cover. It’s clear he’s not pleased, but I doubt anyone could get a word in edgewise. The tension in the air is palpable, and it’s safe to say this is far from over.
Coach stands in the doorway, his fists on his lips. “What the hell’s wrong with your shoulder?”
Levi halts, closing his eyes. I thought I caught him favoring his right arm as he left the ice.
“Possible muscle pull,” the goalie mumbles.
“You go visit the trainers right now. And if you want to keep playing this season, you’ll follow whatever advice they give you to the letter.”
“Yes, coach.”
Levi storms off, but he doesn’t say another word. Coach pins me with his gaze next. “Send Schwartz’s ass in here next.”
I nod, spotting him just a few feet away in the parallel corridor. I’m about to mention that coach is waiting for him, but before I can get a word out, he beats me to it.
“Yeah, I can read the writing on the wall. I’ll go to Ava as soon as coach releases me.” My brows wing up at his turn of phrase. He’s never openly admitted it, but everyone knows he has dyslexia and prefers to learn and absorb information by every method except the written word. Catching my expression, he flips me the bird. “You know what I mean.”
Chapter 7
AVA
Ibrace myself as the hour for Eric’s appointment draws near. I’ve already scrubbed the surface with an unscented disinfectant to make sure nothing could irritate his bare skin, and I’ve laid a fresh sheet across the table.
Right on time, Eric appears for his appointment. I go through my usual spiel about undressing and crawling up on the table facedown, then step out to give him privacy. A few minutes later, I square my shoulders, knock lightly, and at his “I’m good,” I step back in.
Eric Schwartz is the tallest and burliest of all the players on the team. His broad shoulders are so wide that none of my table is visible, and his feet dangle off the end. I recall his chart listed him as six-foot-four, and I can believe it. During our wild night together, he’d felt like a massive force as he loomed over me.
Nope.I’m not going there. Not now. Not ever.