Page 10 of Cold as (N)ice

Pizza – be right back.

Walking to the front door, he grabbed his wallet off the counter and opened the door – only to see the delivery guy’s mouth drop open in shock.

“Oh my gosh…”

“Hi,” Barrett said simply, handing over a few bills and reaching for the pizza. “Keep the change.”

“You’re the guy… the guy…you’re on the Coyotes!”and his voice ended with a screech of excitement that caused him to sigh as he reached for a Sharpie that was tied to a string – thumbtacked to the wall just out of sight, beside the door.

Was it pretty? No.

Was it handy? Absolutely… and he’d learned his lesson well a few years ago when someonefollowedhim into his house when he went searching for a marker to autograph something.

“Can I have your…”

“Autograph?” Barrett interjected and smirked at the man’s starstruck gaze as he yanked out his cell phone case, which had the mascot emblazoned on it. “Should I sign the inside?”

“Yeaaah,” the young man whispered reverently.

“You like hockey?”

“Love it,” he breathed and seemed to draw himself out of his stupor. “Can I have a selfie?”

“Sure,” Barrett said politely. “Nothing in the background okay?”

“Nope. I swear. I’ll keep your wife and kid out of the picture.”

“She’s not…” and Barrett grew quiet, smiling quickly as the man suddenly swung an arm around his shoulders, practically hugging him, and shoved a cell phone in his face – posing for the selfie.

It was awkward in so many ways because he could feel both of their eyes on him, wondering what was going on, plus this delivery guy was practically all over him.

“Thanks for the pizza and for liking the team,” Barrett said carefully, trying not to be rude.

“Oh man, thank you for the selfie and the autograph,” the guy preened, still standing there, still watching him like he was some idol, not moving and definitely gawking.

“Thank you again,” Barrett tried once more, starting to close the door, and the guy seemed to snap out of it.

“Oh, sure! Sure, man! I appreciate you and can’t wait to see the game on Friday.GooooCoyotes! And thanks, Mrs. Coeur for letting me interrupt. Bro, your dad is stellar on the ice and…”

Barrett shut the door.

Screw this, he thought, utterly mortified. The team’s owners could just get mad at him if this went all over social media. It was embarrassing because this wasn’t his family, but they were staring at him like he’d sprouted a set of horns in front of them.

Are you famous?Stephen signed, his eyes huge. Barrett immediately walked over and practically tossed the pizza on the kitchen island before turning to the child and speaking for Irene’s benefit.

“I’m not famous. I play hockey, and I’m just a normal guy who tries to live a very simple life. I like it when it’s quiet at home – and that guy was annoying.”

“We should go,” Irene immediately responded softly behind him, drawing his attention as he looked at her – not bothering to sign for Stephen’s benefit.

“You don’t bother me,” he said quietly. “Pizza?” At her silence, he sighed and then gestured to Stephen.

You want to eat pizza?

Yes!

As Stephen ran up to the counter, the video game forgotten, Barrett looked at Irene again pointedly and opened the lid. Without another word, he moved to get three paper plates and pulled out three slices, handing her the first one.

“Eat,” he said simply, before turning to give a slight to Stephen.

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