Page 97 of Penalty Shots

I breathe in the sights and sounds of the city just as Ryker pushes me to walk as soon as the lights on the crosswalk change.

"Hey, jolly old St. Nick, I'm walking here," he says behind me.

I laugh. I'm pretty sure that Ryker Balinger, the big bad goalie of the Heatwave won't admit it, but he's a sucker for the holidays.

I only know this because we've spent almost every Christmas Eve together and the man is a sucker for sappy Hallmark movies. He won't actually ask to watch them, but he won't complain either.

Zane, on the other hand…

"Do we need to buy you a candy cane to turn that frown upside down?" I ask my Grinchy friend.

"No," he snaps. "I just hate big cities." Zane steps on a piece of gum and tries frantically to get it off his shoe.

"I don't get it," Libby says. "We live in one of the biggest cities in the US. How could you hate cities?"

"Used to," Zane says to his sister. "Used to. Now I live in not a city. Because of shit like this." He points to a guy in a Santa wig and beard wearing a thong as he walks by.

"To each his own," Libby says, staring after the old guy with a chuckle. Fergie gives her a light nudge.

"I could always wear that for Christmas morning since you liked it so much, Butterfly."

Libby laughs, pulling her fiancé in closer as the wind picks up.

"Hey, where are Izzy and Rina?" Kesley, Zane's wife, asks.

'They're gonna meet us. Apparently the calendars got delivered to the wrong place, and they had to hunt them down," I say. I look up at the two-story indie bookstore. And a line is already formed out the door and around the corner.

"I can't believe they were able to pull this off," Kesley says as we make our way inside.

"Rina and Jenny make a pretty great team," I say. "Surprisingly."

Yes. The girls must be creative geniuses. Because Izzy had mentioned to Rina in passing that there was a giant hockey romance book signing taking place at one of her favorite indie bookstores that she follows on social.

Rina saw that as a great opportunity to rally the out-of-state fans for our games, and Jenny made it happen.

"Have you read some of the stuff that's in these books?" Fergie mumbles to us. "Good stuff and highly accurate if you ask me." He winks.

I pick up one of the books as I walk by a table and flip it over to read the back.

"Don't judge it by the cover. That one's all spice. Five peppers," Fergie says, holding his fingers up.

"Really," I say, looking at it again.

The author setting up the table rounds it to approach us. "Hey! You're Keelan Landry."

I smile at her. "The one and only."

"Don't tell anyone, but your pictures were the ones that inspired the main character in this one." She taps the book with a finger.

"Well, then I'll take two copies," I say.

She smiles back and pulls out her marker. "Who should I make it—them—out to?"

"The first one can be made out to Mr. Bonner. That's B-o-n-n-e-r." I spell out for her, fully intending to send it to Redmond for Christmas.

"And the second one?"

"To Her Majesty, the Queen."

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