Page 21 of Hooking Up with the Hockey Player

He points at me. “Watch it. You don’t need a Tina interrogation. I promise.”

With another laugh, I shake my head. “I’m not sure what to tell you, man. I gave my number to the woman I met last night. She texted me this morning and invited me to brunch. We had stuffed French toast. I’m not sure what else you wanna know.”

He groans. Loudly. “Do you like her? Are you going to see her again?”

I was wrong. We haven’t regressed to elementary school. It’s middle school. “Yeah, I like her. And I don’t know if or when I’m going to see her again. Do you want to pass her a note that says, ‘Do you like Troy?’ with a checkbox for Yes or No?”

Picking up a pinecone from the kindling pile, he chucks it at me. I bat it aside, laughing. “Shut up, asshole,” he grouses. “You know what we’re all dying to know.”

Sighing, I shake my head, grab a log, and set it at the edge of the fire, ready to shove it in when the time is right. Then I settle back in my chair, crossing my hands over my belly. “I don’t really have any answers for you.” Which is the issue I’m facing everywhere these days. I don’t have answers for any of the questions facing me.

What am I going to do with myself now that I’m retired?

My brother called a couple weeks ago and offered to make me a partner in his car dealership empire in Milwaukee. He painted a picture of me doing TV ad spots and people flocking to buy cars after seeing my face on billboards and ads everywhere. I told him I’d think about it, but I’m not sure what there is to think about. Nothing about that appeals to me. I just don’t know how to say that to him. Our relationship has been a little strained since he quit hockey and I went to college on a hockey scholarship. Going pro didn’t help. It’s like he’s always felt the need to compete with me, to show that he’s as good, as successful. And I think his offer is kind of an olive branch, which I appreciate, but at the same time, selling cars isn’t me. I’m happy for him, proud of him, but that doesn’t mean I want to join him. Plus, I don’t know that I want to move back to Wisconsin.

“It’s not that deep,” Nick mutters, bringing me back to the present and the possibilities embodied by my date with Anna. If something beyond just a few dates while on vacation could happen there, I definitely don’t want to move halfway across the country from her. “You like her. And you know she likes you, or else why would she invite you out today? You didn’t make a plan to see her again?”

I lift a shoulder. “Not yet.”

He points at me again. “But you want to.”

I shift my shoulders, not quite a shrug, but not not a shrug either.

Nick scoffs. “Obviously you do. So what’s the problem? You’ve got her number now. Send her a text. Invite her over for hot dogs and marshmallows.”

That makes me laugh. “You want me to ask her here to spend the evening watching you wrangle your kids and try not to get hit with flaming marshmallows?”

He laughs too, shrugging. “Sure. Why not?”

Why not?

The question echoes in my head while we sit in silence for several minutes, listening to the pop and crackle of the fire.

“Do you have your phone?” Nick asks.

I shake my head.

“I’ll watch the fire. Go get it.”

When I don’t get up immediately, he sends me a scowling glare. It’s the look he gives uncooperative teammates when they’re not pulling their weight. As the captain for the last three years, he’s perfected that look.

Chuckling, I stand, unable to resist. Not that I really want to. “You know,” I say as I step around my chair, “you’re not my captain anymore.”

Still scowling, he nods. “Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.” Then he points toward the house. “Phone. Now.”

I take the stairs up to the deck two at a time, ignoring the twinge in my knee, and head inside, walking past Shelby and Noah on the couch watching something animated on the TV while Tina camps on her phone at the breakfast bar.

She looks up when I come in, holding a finger to her lips to tell me to be quiet. Grinning, I give her a thumbs up. I’m assuming she’s enjoying a few minutes of peace while she has it, and she doesn’t want to risk me riling the kids up again. Which is something I’m prone to do, even if I don’t always mean to.

They’re fun kids, and they get excited that I’m willing to play with them, especially when I let them hang off my arms or dangle them upside down by their ankles over the couch. That always elicits a chorus of squeals and giggles, and while it’s fun, it goes on and on and on once I get started, and I’m under strict orders to get my phone and text Anna an invitation. Even if I didn’t have my own motivations, I’d never cross Tina like that on purpose. She’d kill me, then step back and let her husband kill me all over again when she was done.

They’re perfect for each other like that.

I have to admit, I’ve always been envious of their relationship and have just about given up the hope of finding that for myself. They got together in college, and Tina’s supported Nick’s career wholeheartedly, following him from franchise to franchise, bringing the kids to as many games as possible, and being there for him in all the important ways. In return, he has her back in any and all situations, helps out her family, and makes sure she has everything she needs to keep their home running smoothly.

Could Anna be that for me?

The thought floats into my mind unbidden, and I quickly swat it away, a puck that has to be shot before the buzzer sounds. That’s a ridiculous thought. I’ve known the woman for all of twenty-four hours. We’ve had a drink and a meal together, and while those were enjoyable, I don’t need to get ahead of myself. Besides, she has an established life here, and I …

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