Page 6 of Offside Bride

She’s adjusting the strap when Buzz Cut Guy blasts out of the bar with fury in his step and blood dripping from his brow. He completely bypasses Maggie and comes at me, winding up his fist like he’s in aPopeyecartoon. I can handle this guy. Just one punch, square in the nose, and he won’t be a problem anymore. But Maggie takes off the helmet, swings it by the straps, and whacks the guy from the side.

As he slumps down to the sidewalk, she says, “That’s for copping a feel, you creep.”

Then she settles the helmet back on her head and straddles the bike behind me. Maggie is a certifiable badass. I’ve never been so turned on by a woman in my life.

She wraps her arms around me, and we ride away from the scene, her hands clinging to my shirt–bringing on unbidden memories of our little tryst in the storeroom. I can’t have her, but this feeling will stay with me for a long, long time.

“A great marriage is not when the ‘perfect couple’ comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.”

— DAVE MEURER

3

SAWYER

Ice chips fly from my blades as I come to a hard stop after Coach Knight calls time. We practiced hard and my muscles are sore in the best way. The guys are all spent, sweaty, and pumped up. The new season starts next month, and the Titans are more than ready.

We cleaned house last season, taking home the Stanley Cup and the Hart Memorial Cup. Even though the Hart Memorial Cup is only for Canadian leagues, I think it holds more clout to them than the Stanley. National Pride. Since my home is in Toronto at present, I share that pride with my Canadian brothers on the team.

But after the Hart Memorial Cup was stolen last season from the arena, the committee has it locked in a box somewhere instead of on display at the Blizzard Dome. The location is top secret. I’m picturing a big warehouse full of wooden crates like at the end ofRaiders of the Lost Ark.

The Titans’ owner, Malcom Chase, and a few other hockey club owners are rallying for them to change that, promising better security measures. That’s the extent of the drama this season, and I’m fine with that. My personal life is crazy enough, thanks.

The few unread texts from my sister have been sitting on my phone like little red pimples begging to be popped. The latest updates on our parents, probably. But I just don’t have the head space for that right now. I haven’t even checked my phone since I dropped off Maggie at Owen’s house the other day.

She’d stormed inside, and I waited on the street until Owen and Emily arrived a couple hours later. Apparently, the cops blocked the exits to the bar and didn’t let anyone leave until they were questioned. Owen told them he didn’t see anything. He’s a good friend.

“O’Malley.” Coach Knight calls to me just as I get off the ice. The permanent scowl on his face is deepened as he inclines his head in the direction of my agent Bruce, waiting to see me.

Standing next to Bruce is Hannah, the Titan’s social media manager. Hannah is always filming us, always has her phone out, and likes to get the players involved in silly viral dance moves. I steer clear of that circus.

“They want a word with you,” Coach says. “But make it quick. We’ve got videos in thirty.”

“Sure thing, Coach.”

“And while you’re talking to Hannah, could you ask her to keep her camera off me? Her last post makes it look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” He grunts and walks away, shaking his head.

I slip on my blade guards and meet Bruce and Hannah where they are. Bruce has been trying to get me to do more promo stuff for the team. Maybe that’s what this is about. The answer will be no, of course. Just like the last three or four times he asked.

When I reach them, though, Bruce’s face looks grim, while Hannah is biting her lip.

“I don’t exactly know where to start,” says Bruce. “This is…”

“Maybe we should take this into the conference room?” Hannah suggests. “Where we can sit down and discuss?”

“Sit down and discuss?” I scoff. “If you’re going to ask me to do one of your synchronized skating posts or try to get me to say ‘I’m a Titan, of course I wear toques with suits,’ or some other fill-in-the blank trend, I can save us a lot of time right now, because whatever it is, I’m not doing it.”

Considering what my family is going through right now, all I want to do is play the game and stay off social media.

“It’s…not that,” says Bruce.

I look between Bruce and Hannah, both their faces scrunched with something that might be worry, but also might be constipation.

Hannah twists her features. “We have a little…snafu.”

“A snafu? What’s a snafu?”

Bruce looks me right in the eye. “The bar fight. And before you say, “What bar fight?” might I remind you that while you most likely don’t keep track of all the scrapes you get yourself into, I am unfortunately tasked with the responsibility of putting out your fires. So, to refresh your memory, I’m referring to the brawl you started at The Crowned Loon this past Saturday.”

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