Page 76 of Shots on Net

I almost laugh at the look of relief on Carter’s face at the obvious dismissal. Before I can get roped into accompanying everyone into the office, I volunteer to stay behind.

“I’ll wait here for you,” I tell Carter, and Tony turns his face away from the group to hide his smile.

“Certainly,” Mrs. Morgan says to Coach Mackenzie, adjusting the front of her coat. She smiles, glancing between Carter and I. “You’ll wait for me?”

“Of course,” I say, at the same time that Carter responds: “Sure, Mom.”

“This way,” Coach Mackenzie says, and gestures her forward with an outstretched arm. He goes to follow, shoulder almost colliding with the wall as he turns. Tony, moving so quickly I hardly see it, reaches out and grasps his elbow. He lets go of him just as fast as he grabbed hold; as he passes, Coach Mackenzie brushes his hand across Tony’s stomach. Carter and I watch them all go. The second they’re all out of earshot, he turns to me.

“What the fuck?” He says, and I laugh. He gives a strained chuckle and shakes his head, turning to look at where his mom disappeared down the hallway. He holds his arms open and I step into them, gratefully.

“You always smell so bad,” I tell him, hugging him tight around the middle and trying to ignore how wet he is. He vibrates with laughter. “I take it you didn’t get my text messages? I tried to warn you about your mom. She just showed up at the house, right as Jefferson and I were leaving. She was wearing heels, did you see? To a hockey game.”

“Honestly, she probably wears heels to garden.” We break apart and I take a moment to admire what he’s wearing. Hockey really is a lovely sport.

“I can’t believe she’s here,” I tell him.

“I know. And did you hear all that stuff she said? About Coach? I thought when he called them he was going to…I don’t know…give them basic information. Stats and shit. I didn’t think he’d say all that stuff. And then he got my mom to come to a game? Fucking incredible.”

He laughs, incredulously, and reaches a hand out to touch the side of my face. It’s an unthinking gesture, sweet and gentle. It makes me want to hug him again.

“It was really nice,” I agree. “Do you think he asked Anthony Lawson to come to talk with her? Maybe provide some insight into the NHL?”

“I bet you’re right,” he says, excitedly. Shaking his head, he plucks at the front of his shirt. “I better go shower though. You cool to wait out here?”

“Of course.”

“Alright. Be right back,” he says, reaching out and brushing a thumb over my jaw again.

He’s back in less than ten minutes, hair wet and pulled back in its usual bun. His cheeks are flushed from the heat of the shower, and his shirt is clinging to his chest as if he didn’t bother trying to dry off properly before he dressed. The smile that graces his face when he steps back into the hallway and sees me waiting nearly sends me into cardiac arrest. My Carter, my smile. Mine, mine, mine. I smile back and step forward to hug him again.

“Do I smell better?” He asks.

“Mm. Much.” Several of his teammates pass us on their way out of the locker room, barely sparing us a glance. I step back from Carter, but he slings an arm over my shoulders and pulls me to his side. He leans back against the wall, dropping his bag to the floor. I tuck myself into his side and mimic his pose. Apparently, we’re going to wait for his mom right here.

Max leaves the locker room, eyes catching on us. He nods politely, hitching his bag up his shoulder and turning to walk toward the exit. Carter calls him back before he can get too far.

“Max, hold up.”

The other man turns, apprehension clear on his face. The fingers of his right hand are clenched right around the strap of his bag. “Yeah?”

“You busy tomorrow? Vas and I were going to have an NHL tournament on the Playstation at my place. You should come.”

Max stares at him, silently. Two other teammates leave the locker room and pass us before he speaks. I can’t tell if he’s trying to figure out a way to tell Carter no without being rude, or if he’s weighing the sincerity of Carter’s offer. Either way, he thinks things through before responding.

“Yeah, alright, sounds fun.” He fiddles with his bag. “Just the three of us? Or will there be a lot of people there?”

I look up at Carter and see him pulling a face. I grin—Carter hates parties.

“Hell no, just us. And Zeke, obviously,” he jostles me, “although he usually ditches me to go to the library.”

I roll my eyes at Max, bringing him in on the joke. He smiles, faintly, but perks up slightly at the confirmation that it will be a small crowd at Carter’s. He runs a hand through his hair, causing the damp strands to stick out haphazardly.

“Okay, great. Yeah, I’ll be there! Just text me the details.”

“Sure. See you, man.”

Leaning heavily against Carter, I watch Max stroll off down the hallway. There is something strange about Max that I can’t put my finger on. Something vulnerable and sad, like a puppy who’s been left outside in the rain. I don’t have long to ponder the mysteries of Carter’s new friend, however, because we’re joined once more by Carter’s mom, Coach Mackenzie, and Anthony Lawson. Carter straightens, but keeps his arm around my shoulder.

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