Page 36 of The Trophy

A strangled noise comes out of his mouth as he coughs, bringing one hand to his throat.

“Fuck,” he sputters, his face a dark red as he swallows repeatedly.

I stop in my tracks. “Oh my God, Blaze, I told you to be careful with that chili. Is there any milk?”

Tucker comes to our rescue. “Yup, on it.” He offers Blaze a glass of milk.

I watch my date chug the entire glass faster than he skated during the game, as rivulets of milk escape from his mouth and trickle down his chin.

“What the actual fuck?” Blaze coughs, his face still a worrying shade of red. “What does Bay put in that chili?”

Cole offers him another glass of milk. “How is this the first time you eat Bay’s chili? It has been our tradition to have it after a home game since she started dating Topher.”

Blaze greedily drinks the second glass of milk. “Usually I have my own home game tradition. I never have dinner here because I go for Mexican food.”

I always forget how superstitious hockey players can be. Blaze’s explanation is met with a horrified silence around the dinner table.

“Then why the fuck did you come here to have dinner tonight?” Jagger asks. “We don’t mess with a winning streak. Last year, we lost in the playoffs because I didn’t get my lucky bj before the game. If we lose our next game, it’s gonna be on you, bro.”

I watch their exchange like you watch a tennis match, thinking that I’ll have to remember to ask about Jagger’s lucky bj tradition later.

“I just wanted to celebrate our victory with the team tonight,” Blaze bites out, rubbing his chest as his face slowly returns to its normal color. “What I do after a game shouldn’t matter, everyone knows that only the stuff you do before a game counts.”

Jagger doesn’t sound convinced. “You’re wrong. Anything you do immediately before or after a game has an influence on our juju. If we lose next week?—”

“What I want to know is how you guys eat this liquid fire without dying,” he says, pointing to his bowl of chili.

Tucker chuckles. “I guess the reaction to Bay’s chili separates the boys from the men.”

Blaze flips him off. “That’s bullshit. Seriously, I always ask for extra jalapeños for my tacos, but this?—”

Jagger puts him out of his misery. “There’s a trick to enjoying Bay’s chili without dying. We worked it out after we ate it the first time and a lot of us lost all sense of taste for days.”

I can’t stifle an eye roll. “What I don’t get, is why you didn’t tell her to stop making you chili.” I swear to God, I’ll never understand these hockey players.

“At first it was because we didn’t want to hurt Bay’s feelings,” Jagger explains. “Then after we won the second home game in a row, we thought the chili might bring us good luck, so we worked out a way to eat it. If you look at everyone’s bowls, you’re the only one who has just straight chili and cheese in there, Fire.”

“Ha,” Tucker laughs. “It’s too funny that your name on the ice is Fire and you can’t handle hot chili.”

Blaze crosses his arms over his chest. “You’re so hilarious, you should try stand up comedy if you can’t make a career in hockey.”

Jagger rolls his eyes at their exchange. “Seriously man,” he points out at what everyone is eating. “We talked to Bay and we concluded that we couldn’t ask her to change her recipe not to mess with the good luck factor of the situation. So she suggested to add sides to help us cool it down. That’s why she turned it into a chili bar. There’s sour cream, rice and even potatoes. All stuff that will help offset the criminal amount of hot chillies Bay uses.”

Blaze runs a hand through his dark hair. “Well fuck, thank you for the warning. I need to go load up on rice and sour cream if I have any hope to finish my good luck dinner.”

Jagger nods. “And if next week we win, you need to ditch your food truck and start coming to these dinners not to mess with our lucky streak.”

Blaze doesn’t look convinced. “That’s bullshit. I told you, what we do after a game has no influence…”

Satisfied that Blaze is ok, I leave him to argue his point to go in search of Luca.

I don’t particularly want to go into the backyard through the kitchen and get another eyeful of Bay and Topher’s hookup, so I cross the living room, headed to one of the full-length patio doors that lead out back.

“Lake, wait.”

Cole’s voice stops me in my tracks as I’m about to step outside.

I wait for him to catch up with me. “You ok?” I ask.

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