Page 19 of Rafferty

“Really?” Cooper practically shrieks, then looks to me with absolute pleading in his eyes. “Can we go, Tempe?”

“I have to work,” I say, but seeing the near devastation on his face, I reconsider. “But I’ll see if I can get someone to cover my shift.”

Besides… it won’t hurt me to miss one day with the money I’m making from Rafferty.

“Awesome!” he yells, pumping his fist in the air. “I’m going to go tell Mom.”

We all watch as he runs into the house screaming “Mom!” at the top of his lungs.

Rafferty laughs, his attention settling on me. “I’m glad you’re coming. I’ll leave tickets for you at will call. Just show up and they’ll be waiting.”

“All right. Thank you.”

And then to my surprise, Rafferty leans in and gives me a quick kiss on my cheek. I have to resist the urge to touch my skin there… it’s positively tingling.

The guys wave to me and Rafferty follows them to the vehicles, giving me one last smile. I watch as they pull away and then head into the house.

Cooper is at the door, barely letting me in before he starts a barrage of word salad. “Tempe, they were really here, weren’t they? I mean… that was Rafferty Abrams, Atlas Karolak, North Paquette, Foster McInnis and Jack Kingston, all here at our house? And they saw the Titans poster in my room and they signed it! I hope they know I’m a real fan. I should have impressed them with some stats I have memorized, but it was all so crazy. They set up the Christmas tree. Can we decorate it tonight? And—”

“Whoa buddy. Slow down before you run out of air,” I say with a laugh.

But secretly, I love how excited he is. Money has always been tight and he’s only been to one hockey game in his life, and that’s when his friend Danny’s parents took them for Danny’s birthday last year. Cooper is such a good kid and he deserves good things.

My gratitude to Rafferty and his friends is boundless for all they did for my mom and Cooper today.

CHAPTER 8

Rafferty

Checking my watch,I see I have at least an hour before I have to leave for the arena for our game against the Phantoms tonight. I resist the urge to check my texts to see if Tempe responded to my last message. I let her know that I requested tickets for her, Cooper and his friend and that I’ll send her a confirmation code. Every player has access to a small pool of tickets we can purchase for any home game in addition to season tickets we might hold. My family isn’t able to visit enough to make such a purchase sensible, so this was the way to go. I requested tickets close to the ice near our bench, but I’m not sure if I’ll get them.

I hadn’t really expected a response as I know she’s working, but a man can hope.

I expend some of my nervous energy by picking up clutter around my condo. I chose a modern loft building in the North Shore to be close to the arena. I specifically didn’t consider a house as many of my teammates do because I didn’t want to deal with upkeep on a yard or exterior maintenance. My life has always been about simplicity, which makes this whole debacle with Tansy and Tempe hilariously ironic.

Still… not sure I’d trade away this experience, only for the fact of meeting such a cool woman like Tempe.

I pick up my empty mug from the coffee table and rinse it in the kitchen sink. I straighten the stack of sporting magazines that I thumb through while watching ESPN in my free time and set my throw pillows in place. A stray pair of tennis shoes wedged under the sofa are relocated to my bedroom closet, and I pick up my discarded shower towel in the bathroom, tossing it in the hamper.

That’s the extent of my need to clean up as I’m a bit of a neat freak. I might not put everything back where it needs to go right when I’m done using it, but it never sits out in the wrong place for long.

I make another sweep through the condo which features an open floor plan. My furniture is sleek and contemporary, and the floors are polished hardwood. Whoever owned this place before me decorated in cool-toned blues and grays, and I like it enough to not feel the burning need to change anything. It most certainly doesn’t clash with my cream-colored leather sofa and love seat.

The kitchen, which flows from the living area, boasts gleaming stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and a breakfast bar with leather stools. The entire wall bordering these two rooms are floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city skyline. Plenty of natural light floods the area, enhancing the condo’s airy feel.

I didn’t put a lot of thought into buying this place but over the last three months, it’s started to feel like a real home. That probably has more to do with the fact I’ve become immersed in the team and made some deep connections with my mates.

In my bedroom, I get dressed in my suit, leaving the tie hanging loosely over my shoulders until it’s time to walk out the door. I fasten on my Patek Phillipe watch, the first luxury item I ever bought myself when I got my first professional hockey paycheck. Since then, I’ve given in to a few more indulgences, but for the most part, I’m a simple guy.

I check my gear bag one last time and move it out into the living room. A look at my watch and I still have fifty minutes until it’s time to leave.

Nervous pacing to deal with the pre-game jitters seems to be about the only thing left to do as I don’t watch a lot of TV and if I pull out my phone to scroll, I’ll be tempted to text Tempe again. I’m only on my second pass across the expansive gleaming hardwood when there’s a knock at my door.

I halt in surprise, my head inclining that way. No one ever comes to visit me, at least not unannounced. For a tense moment, I consider the only one crazy enough to show up on my doorstep would be Tansy and given that she works fairly high up within the organization, she’d easily have access to my address.

Tentatively, I move to the door and with a heavy feeling of dread, I put my eye to the peephole.

Sparkling blue eyes identical to my own stare back at me.

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