Page 79 of Save the Game

“Deal. And we’ll fix your splint. Can I stay here, tonight?”

“If I ever answer ‘no’ to that question, I want you to take me out back and shoot me.”

Laughing, I tighten my arm and bring him closer to me. He presses his face back into the crook of my neck, half his body warm on mine. It’s not close enough—not nearly close enough—but it will do for now.

17

Luke

“All right, it has to be said—that man is a babe,” I say, pointing my burrito at the TV where Corwin Sanhover’s sweaty face is getting a close-up as he sits down on the bench and pulls his helmet off. Across the room, Marcos sighs and shakes his head. On the couch next to me, Max squints at the screen and tilts his head to the side.

“Yeah, I agree. A couple years ago, though, they signed Nigel St. James—here, look him up quick—and that man is a babe.” Max waits, watching as I pull up an internet browser and toggle over to images. I whistle, and he nods, vindicated. “Right? Kinda looks like you, actually.”

“Maximillian Frederick Kuemper, you have a type!”

“Nope, still wrong,” he says idly, but making no move to tell me what his full name actually is. “That one’s pretty good, though. Makes me sound like a Duke.”

“The Duke of my pants, maybe.”

“Can you not?” Marcos says, scowling at me as Max snorts with laughter, barely managing not to choke on his bite of burrito. Grinning, I wink at Marcos who only shakes his head and turns back to the TV.

“Damn, that guy’s hot, too!” I exclaim, as the camera pans to one of the Calgary players. Max nods.

“That’s Grayson Brody. He’s a monster—6’7” and 230 pounds. Calgary locked him in on an eight-year-no-trade contract after he had a record-breaking season a few years ago. He got six assists in a single game, and scored a goal the other night in their game against Dallas. And?—."

“Maxy, love, all of that is very fascinating, and the large man is attractive. But I was talking about the dude next to him.”

Marcos snorts at my obvious attempt to redirect the hockey stat tirade. Max squints at the TV again, face lighting up when he realizes who I’m referring to.

“Oh! Andrei Zolkov. He used to play for South Carolina—in his rookie year. He’s playing for the Russian Olympic team this year, did you know that?”

“No,” I say seriously, “I did not know that.”

“Well, he is! I couldn’t believe they didn’t invite him to All-Star weekend this year, he’s better than?—."

A knock at the front door interrupts Max and all three of us swivel our heads to look toward the front of the apartment. Another firm rap echoes through the apartment; Marcos sets his plate down on the coffee table and wipes his hands on his pants as he walks over to answer it.

“You guys expecting someone?” I ask, popping the last of my burrito into my mouth a touch sadly. I wish I’d ordered two.

“I’m not. Marcos might be, I guess.” He shrugs, leaning against me. I throw an arm over his shoulder and scoot closer, grabbing the remote and muting the TV while Marcos answers the door.

“Max Kuemper?” A stranger’s voice travels through the now-silent apartment as Marcos pulls open the front door. Max stiffens, turning his head toward the entryway so quickly, I can hear his neck pop. I tighten my arm around him. From our vantage point on the couch, the only thing we can see is Marcos’ back, ramrod straight.

“No, I’m his roommate, Marcos Rivera.”

“Is he home? We’d like to speak with him.”

Marcos looks over his shoulder at us, hand gripped around the door and stance wide as he blocks the entrance. Max stands up, and I follow close behind him as he joins Marcos at the front door. There are two police officers standing in the vestibule.

“I’m Max,” he says. I put a hand on his back in silent support.

“Hello, son, my name is Jim Hughes, and this is my partner, Martina Suarez. We’d like to speak with you, if you’ve got a few moments.”

“Okay,” Max says, nodding. Marcos hasn’t moved, still standing stationary in the doorway and partially blocking Max from view.

“May we come in? We won’t take up too much of your time, but it would be best to do this inside.”

My stomach sinks at the words and Marcos looks over at me, mouth pinched tight with unease. We both know what this is about. Max steps back, colliding with me where I’d been standing too close to him.

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