Page 43 of Playoff

I chuckle. “No. I’m pretty single these days. This job literally takes up all of my time.”

She gazes over at her brother and her voice drops to a whisper. “Blake says the same thing. Except he’s so disillusioned.”

“Disillusioned?” I ask. “You mean, with hockey?”

She nods. “It’s… hard. He barely makes enough to survive. He works at a gym in the off-season and saves up so he has money when he needs something. I think next year might be his last.”

“Really?” I had no idea it was that bad.

Blake is one of those guys who lives and breathes hockey, so the idea of him retiring at twenty-nine seems unfathomable. He’s never wanted to do anything else.

But I also understand the minor league salaries aren’t great, and a lot of guys don’t want to struggle financially as they get older, especially the guys who have families. I saw a lot of that on the team I worked for before the Phantoms.

“His car is old, he and Bodi are roommates because neither of them can afford a place on their own, and last night he said something about this being his last chance to make something of himself.”

My heart squeezes. Nothing that’s happened in his life is my fault but it still hurts me to hear how much he’s struggled. I assumed he was doing fine. I knew he was still in the minors, but there are only so many NHL teams, and those twenty-three roster spots fill up fast. Guys come to the NHL from all over the world, so the pool of players is huge. Guys like him are lifers—they can’t imagine doing anything else. They play until their bodies won’t allow it anymore, and then they find something that hopefully keeps their finger in the hockey pie.

It never occurred to me that he wasn’t living his best life.

In my head, I always imagine him sleeping with two or three women at a time, partying on his days off, and then doing the hockey thing.

“Honestly, we hadn’t seen each other in almost a decade,” I admit. “I had no idea how he was doing.”

“You really haven’t crossed paths at all?” she asks. “Even though you work for different teams within the same organization?”

I shake my head. “Nope. I knew he was playing for the Rebels, but he didn’t get called up at all this season, and like I said, last season I was out with a nasty flu when he was here. Half the team went down with it, which is why he got called up. By the time I was better, he was back in Phoenix. And to be honest, I had no reason to talk to him. Our breakup wasn’t nice.”

She grimaces. “He never told us what happened.”

“I went to surprise him and…” I let my voice trail. No reason to dredge up ancient history with his sister. “Well, let’s just say he wasn’t all that happy to see me.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sorry. Eighteen-year-old boys suck.”

“Yeah, and eighteen-year-old girls can be clingy and insecure. I’m not blameless in the whole thing. But it’s okay. We’re friends now and the past is behind us.” Somewhat.

“I’m glad for that,” she says. “It’s no fun to work around someone you dislike or have bad history with.”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

I’m not sure if that’s true, but I’m tired of feeling uncomfortable around him. After our talk, I felt better but I’m still harboring a little resentment. Hurt. And I’m not sure what it will take to truly get past it.

“I’m sorry my dad was such a jerk to you,” she says after a moment. “The rest of us have grown and changed, but he’s still the same.”

“Different generation,” I say graciously.

“He’s so hard on Blake,” she murmurs. “Always riding him, giving him shit for how disappointed he is that he’s still in the minors. It’s awful. Mom and I try to run interference, but it doesn’t always work. Then they argue and Blake goes out and gets drunk.”

“I’m sorry it’s like that for them.”

“Are you close to your parents?” she asks.

“It’s just my dad now, Mom passed away when I was in college. I see him pretty regularly even though he still lives in Michigan. He can’t come for this series, but if we make it to the next one, he’ll be here for a stretch of games.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

The food comes and conversation shifts. Connor tells everyone about his girlfriend Effie, Mr. Rourke talks about his work as a high school basketball coach, and Bodi eventually pulls up a chair next to Phoebe and they start talking about somethingthey all did the last time she was in Phoenix. It seems like this is my cue to escape and I surreptitiously start gathering my things.

“Hey, are you leaving?” Blake stops by my chair on his way back from the restroom.

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