Page 11

11

mad dog

Holky didn’t say much on our way to the airport, giving one-word answers to questions I’d asked. I told myself he was only half awake. We’d been up late, had an early morning, and playing hockey was a grind even when you weren’t nursing a mental crisis over whatever the hell was happening between us. It was all understandable.

But I wasn’t buying my own bullshit. Something had changed between last night and this morning.

When we boarded the Warriors’ jet, Nels, sitting near the front, waved at Holky. “Need a partner, man.”

Holky glanced at me with hesitation in his eyes. “They play video games. You mind?”

I did mind, not because I expected him to sit next to me like we were joined at the hip, but because I wanted to talk . We needed to figure out if whatever had been simmering between us since our nap—hell, since we fucking met —was truly something, or if I’d imagined it in the haze of making my big-league debut.

Since there wasn’t a way to say that without sounding needy, I settled for, “No, go have fun.”

He nodded, avoiding my eyes, so I headed down the aisle, claimed a window seat, and watched the activity on the tarmac.

“Mind if I sit?”

I turned to find Brody grinning at me. “Not at all. Take a load off.”

He looked like a goddamn Norse warrior with his long blond hair, sharp jaw, and body that could have been carved from a glacier. We were about the same age, and I was grateful for his company. We made small talk until takeoff, then got into it about hockey over breakfast.

It turned out he’d gone to school at Michigan, and since Mohegan and Michigan were bitter rivals, we chirped each other mercilessly and talked shit until we broke down laughing.

After the flight attendant removed the breakfast dishes, we settled in with our iPads, and I tried to relax. I wasn’t sure if I was keyed up because I didn’t know what was going on with Holky, or if I felt like I still had something to prove. It was probably both, so I got lost in a documentary about birds in the South Pacific.

Two hours into the flight, movement caught my eye, and I glanced up to see Holky coming down the aisle toward us. Figuring he was on his way to the bathroom, I gave him an upward nod.

Instead of walking by, he stopped beside Brody. “You guys staying out of trouble back here?”

He could still talk. It was the longest sentence I’d heard from him since the guys left last night, so I made the most of it. “Doing great, thanks. We found out we went to rival schools and had a debate about which was best.”

“And the verdict was?”

“Michigan, of course,” Brody said before I could answer. “Dog went to Mohegan. You know how you get a former Mohegan player off your front porch?”

Holky smirked. “How?”

Brody flashed me a fuck-you grin. “Pay him for the pizza.”

We all laughed, but I couldn’t let that stand. “Fuck off. What does a guy do who can’t get a hockey scholarship?”

Brody rolled his eyes. “What’s that?”

“Try Michigan. They’re always looking.”

Laughter burst out of us, and it was so loud a few guys turned to see what was so funny. When the noise settled, Holky rested a hand on Brody’s shoulder. “Would you mind letting me sit here?”

Brody’s eyebrows lifted. He glanced between Holky and me, then put on a little smile. “No problem. I should go see what Gabe’s up to.”

The second Brody was out of earshot, Holky leaned in and whispered, “Sorry I was quiet earlier. Just really tired.”

That didn’t sound like the whole story, but I didn’t press. He was here now, sitting beside me, leaning his knee against mine.

I shook my head and gave him a small smile. “No worries. I get weird in the mornings too.”

“Good to know.”

Our eyes met, and a rush of thoughts left me lightheaded. Something inside me let go. I hadn’t realized how fucking worried I’d been, scared he was pissed at me, or worse, that he was freaked out by what happened. Or didn’t happen. I’d been fucking terrified that whatever had been humming between us had shattered, and that I’d lost my chance at something even if I didn’t quite know what it was.

An easy silence settled between us as his eyes drew me in. They were a kaleidoscope of brown, green, and gold, and I couldn’t look away. Somewhere on the periphery of my mind, I thought I’d never been lost in a man’s eyes. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except making sure we were okay.

“I was tired,” he whispered, “because I was up most of the night thinking about what nearly happened yesterday.”

My heart stuttered. Maybe we weren’t okay after all. “Did you figure anything out?” I whispered.

“Yes. I don’t understand what the hell’s going on, but it’s okay. I’m not afraid of it if you aren’t.”

Now my heart leapt, and I wondered if it might give out before we landed in Minnesota. “I’ve thought about it too, and I’m not afraid.”

“Good. Figure things out as they happen, then?”

“If we aren’t going to run, that’s all we can do.”

He nodded, and we grinned at each other for a while. Eventually, he asked, “Want to take a nap? I sleep better with you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

We settled in, and the next thing I knew, a flight attendant was shaking my shoulder. “The captain’s getting ready to land,” she said. “We’ve been circling for over an hour because of the snow.”

I blinked, still half-asleep, suddenly aware that my head was resting on Holky’s shoulder. We sat up and stretched before her words clicked.

“Snow?” I asked.

“Holy fuck,” Holky said. “Look at that.”

I turned to the window and swore under my breath. The world outside was gone . There was only swirling, shifting white , thick enough that I couldn’t see the wingtip. Snow streamed past like the sky was collapsing, swallowing everything in its path.

“No wonder we’ve been circling,” I said, still trying to get my eyes to focus.

“Welcome to Minnesota,” Holky deadpanned.

When the plane landed, the private terminal’s lack of jetways meant we had to deplane into the chaos. As soon as the door opened, a brutal gust of wind screamed through the cabin, slamming into us like a wall of ice.

Holky and I both grunted as we stepped outside. The wind cut through my coat and howled in my ears. Snow stung my eyes, blinding me, and I had to shield my face with a hand so I could see the airstairs. We made it down safely, and as our shoes crunched through several inches of snow, I glanced at the towering drifts along the tarmac. They’d been trying to keep it clear, but the snow was winning.

As we climbed onto the bus, Criswell stood near the front, talking on his phone. The rest of us shook snow from our jackets and tried not to freeze. Once everyone was seated, he put his phone away and grabbed the mic.

“Listen up, men. In case it’s escaped your notice, we’ve landed in the middle of a blizzard.” A few groans and low whistles followed. “They were expecting light snow, but this storm blew in much heavier than expected. The roads are a mess, so we’re skipping the SaberDome for now. We’ll head straight to the hotel and wait for updates.”

“Are we still playing tonight?” Harpy asked.

Criswell shrugged. “As far as I know, yes, but the Sabercats’ front office is monitoring the storm. If they cancel, we’ll hear by three.”

I stared out the window, watching the snow swirl in thick, endless waves. It was a hell of a way to start a road trip.

* * *

It took almost ninety minutes to crawl from the airport to the hotel in Saint Paul. Holky said the drive usually took about half an hour, so there was no doubt the blizzard was putting on a show. Since the area near the entrance to the hotel was inaccessible, we had to walk two blocks to get there. In the lobby, waiting for our room keys, we complained about the wind and wondered if our shoes would ever dry out.

The team’s rooms were all on the ninth floor; I was in 907 and Holky was a few doors down in 914. Harpy told us to settle in and assume the game was on. Lunch was scheduled for one o’clock, and after that we’d take pregame naps before heading for the SaberDome.

After hanging my suit in the closet, I debated unpacking and decided against it. Instead, I took off my travel clothes and dropped onto the bed. I thought about texting Holky to see when he was going down for lunch but quickly nixed the idea. Just because we were roommates back home didn’t mean we had to spend every minute together on the road.

I reached for the TV remote, but before I could press the power button, my phone buzzed. Seeing it was Holky, I answered with a simple, “What’s up?”

“Wanted to see when you’re going to lunch.”

“I don’t know. Planned to text you in a while and ask what you were doing.”

“Blind leading the blind, huh? The meal’s at one, so let’s head down about 12:50.”

“Deal.” Since we’d made up on the plane, I considered asking if he wanted to get together before then.

What the hell? Did I really think the words “made up”? We weren’t kids who’d had a spat on the playground.

“How’s your room?” he asked.

“Nice.” I looked around at the fancy wallpaper and plush chairs. “The mattress feels like it cost more than my car. In the minors, I was used to roadside motels with at least one roommate.”

“Welcome to the big leagues, rookie. This is a great place, but my view is for shit this time. Since you’re on the other side of the hall, you’ve probably got a good one.”

I sat up and checked. The snow had eased enough for me to see a few things. “It is, actually. Downtown buildings and some big-ass river.”

Holky laughed so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Big-ass river?” he asked. “Buddy, that’s the Mississippi.”

“Damn. Does Saint Paul have a riverfront? I’ve been to the one in San Antonio, and it was a lot of fun.”

“So is this one, but we can’t go. The blizzard has probably closed everything, and Criswell would have a fit if we didn’t keep to the pregame schedule.”

“Maybe next time.” I didn’t want to make him feel I was trapping him on the phone. “I guess you want to?—”

“Chat. It’s almost time for lunch.”

I leaned back against the headboard, and we eased into conversation. It was nothing serious, mostly snowstorm war stories—Buffalo versus Syracuse. Spoiler alert: Buffalo won.

After a while, someone knocked. “Hold on,” I said into the phone, getting up and crossing the room. When I opened the door, Holky was standing there, phone in hand. He glanced up and froze. His eyes darkened in an instant, and I realized I was only wearing boxer briefs.

Great. He caught me in my underwear before we’ve even had a proper conversation about what we want to do and when. I’m crushing it today.

His gaze dragged down my chest, pausing here and there, and came to rest on my boxers. My dick lurched hard enough that he couldn’t have missed the movement. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Shit, sorry. Let me put something on.” I rushed to my suitcase, and my hands were clumsy as I scrambled into jeans and a sweater.

When I turned back around, he had on a full-blown smirk. “Damn, bud. You’ve got one big hockey butt.”

I blinked. “Uh, thanks? I mean, sorry?”

“Don’t apologize. We’ve all got hockey butts. Come on, time to carb-load.”

Downstairs, we had a typical pregame with lots of chicken, veggies, and pasta. The mood was subdued, probably because we were all waiting for the Sabercats to decide about the game. We sat with Gabe, Brody, Logan, and Riley. As if by silent consent, we kept the conversation light.

Criswell came in as we were finishing the meal. “Still no word on the game, boys. The Sabercats are dragging their feet because they don’t want to disappoint the fans, and both teams will take a financial hit if they cancel. They’re now saying they’ll decide by four, so go upstairs and take your naps.”

Harpy spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. “If we play, will we get a chance to warm up beforehand?”

Criswell nodded. “If the game happens, they’ll delay the starting time until eight o’clock. Since the Sabercats were able to skate this morning before the snow got crazy, the ice will be ours as soon as we can get there.”

“Fucking Sabercats.” Heads turned toward Mikhail Abdulov, who was eating alone. “I owe Reinhart good beating. He leave stupid SaberDome missing teeth.”

“Can it, Abby,” Criswell barked. “No fighting tonight.”

Everyone knew that order was a waste of breath, and the angry scowl on Abdulov’s face made me pretty sure Reinhart would indeed lose a few teeth.

“Go back upstairs now,” Criswell said. “We’ll text by four to let you know what’s happening.”

On the ninth floor, everyone split off toward their rooms. Holky slowed as we reached mine. “See you later,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “If there’s no game, maybe we can hang out tonight.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

Inside my room, I stared out the window. The snow was coming down hard again, a wall of white hiding the city. It felt like we were alone, the Warriors, sealed inside this little cocoon while the rest of the world disappeared.

After a trip to the bathroom, I stripped and climbed into bed, but sleep didn’t come. I couldn’t stop thinking about Holky. I was on the edge of drifting off when there was a knock on the door. Thinking it might be someone with an update, I dragged myself up and swung the door open. My breath caught when I saw Holky waiting. His gaze flicked over me while he shifted his weight from foot to foot, dressed in gym shorts and a tank top. With a million possibilities shooting through my mind, I said his name and stepped back so he could enter.

“Hey, bud.” His voice was scratchy and low. “My room’s cold. Mind if I nap in here?”

Just like that, my heart went wild, trying to beat its way out of my goddamn chest.