Page 26 of Two Minutes for Holding

The locker room door opened and in walked Thomkins. The entire room grew silent as he stood there staring at each one of us.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of this room. Get your shit off, shower up, and get to the bus. We leave for the hotel in fifteen minutes. All the better if you’d all rather wait to shower there. Tomorrow at ten we have the ice for three hours. We are going over every play we fucked up on tonight, so we don’t make this mistake tomorrow night.”

The entire room was silent as he turned around and left the room, and as soon as the door closed, Knox stood up.

“You got a problem with the way we played tonight, let us have it, ‘cause I sure as hell have a problem with the way you fucking played.”

“Evans, I said not another fucking word, and I meant it!” Thompkins shouted from the hallway. “If I hear you speak again, I’ll bench your ass tomorrow night.”

“Fuck you, Thompkins,” Knox muttered under his breath once the door closed, all the while glaring at me before he turned around to get changed, as did everyone else.

I kept to myself for the rest of the night. The guys headed to the restaurant for food once we got to the hotel, and even though Dylan said I should go, I declined. I wanted to be alone, so I went back to my room, took a hot shower, and watched a little TV.

There was no doubt about it. I was off my game tonight. Just like I’d been on the plane this morning listening to Knox talk about Peyton. His attitude irritated me. He was lucky to have her in his life. I’d lost my sister without warning. He did not know how that had felt, and the last thing I’d ever want for him would be to feel the pain I’d felt after losing my sister. That was why I felt it was important for him to hear her out. If she was in trouble, he should want to help her regardless of the things she’d done.

I flipped through the TV trying to find something on, and when I came up with nothing, I grabbed my sweatshirt, threw it over my head, and headed down to the bar.

It was a little after midnight;the bar was empty. All the guys were probably sound asleep by now, and while we weren’t supposed to drink the night before a game, but I grabbed a beer anyway and went and sat over in the corner. I needed to unwind if I was going to get any sleep tonight. I needed to clear my head and put all this behind me. Let it all go. Perhaps I needed the company of a lady tonight, and if I looked hard enough, I was certain there’d be some little puck bunny that would accompany me.

As if on command, I heard a sweet voice say my name.

Only I knew that voice all too well. Anticipation and excitement filled me, and I could feel my heart beating a little harder and faster as I glanced up to see Peyton standing there wearing a pink sweater that hugged her in all the right places and a pair of ripped jeans. She’d pulled her dirty-blonde hair back, leaving a few pieces to frame her face, and she wore a little makeup, just enough to highlight her best features.

“Nice to see you, Clay. Is it okay if I join you?”

I sat up and nodded toward the seat across from me. “Of course. Would you like anything? Beer, wine?” I questioned as the server stopped at the table, dropping off my last beer for the night.

“Ginger Ale?” she said, looking up at the server.

“Sure thing,” she said as she grabbed my empty bottle.

“When did you get here?” I questioned.

“Twenty-five minutes ago,” she answered, taking her jacket off.

“Talk with your brother?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, and I’m not in the mood to talk about him, either. He told me there would be a room for me, and so I just checked in, figured I’d see him tomorrow. I’m sure he is plenty pissed off with me for not calling him or messaging him back, and after the drive, I just wanted to relax. I don’t feel like any drama.”

“It will be five sixty,” the server said, sliding the soda in front of Peyton, waiting for payment.

“Put it on my bill,” I answered, pulling my credit card from my wallet and handing it to the server as Peyton reached for her purse.

Peyton looked over at me, a tiny smile on her lips as she took a sip of the pop. “You didn’t have to, but thank you,” she whispered. “I’ve been dying for one of these, but I didn’t want to pull off the highway to get one.”

“So, what’s been going on with you?” I questioned. “Haven’t heard from you since the night you called sounding really upset.”

“Sorry. I wanted to message you, but…”

“But?”

“Never mind, I realized I never should have messaged you.”

“I don’t play games, Peyton,” I said, clearing my throat. “I told you, I’m a straight shooter, and when I said you could come to me, I meant it.”

“I know, but when you mentioned I should talk to my brother, I guess I was afraid you’d go tell him and I choked.”

“What happened?” I questioned.

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