Page 75 of Defensive Zone

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve got a year left on my contract, so I’m going to play this season, then see if I can get signed by Chicago.”

“And what happens if you don’t?”

“Then I’ll be taking an early retirement.”

I’m assuming Hayden’s coming to tell me that the rumors aren’t true and I’m staying in Denver, but I’m not worried about it like I was before. I have complete trust and faith in our relationship, and I know we will be perfectly fine seeing through the five months we’ll be apart. We’ve talked about our expectations if we do need to do long distance, and once we get his schedule in the summer, hopefully we won’t have any away games when we’re in each other’s city, but if we do, we have a plan.

We have a new pact now. One that we made while eating donuts after having the most mind-blowing sex.

I think that’s why the last one didn’t work out in the end. We didn’t seal the deal with orgasms and fried dough.

Jackson fills us in on how Ryan’s under-8’s hockey program is going when there’s a knock on the door. Now this is more likely to be Hayden.

I open the door, and he’s standing there, full of swagger with his pressed dress pants, a turtleneck sweater, and wool overcoat. He knows he’s a good-looking guy.

Glancing at my watch, I arch a brow. “What time do you call this?”

“What is it with O’Hare and delays?” He grunts with a roll of his eyes. “I could probably walk here by the time it takes to get through that airport.”

He steps inside, and I give him a fist bump before leading him into the living area.

“Where is the—” His words cut off as he almost stumbles over his feet. His eyes widen at the sight of Jackson, who is looking equally caught off guard. I cast a confused glance to Zach, who looks as puzzled as I am.

I know Hayden and Jackson used to be teammates back in Boston. The media even called Hayden a formidable power forward before an ACL injury led to his early retirement. But I didn’t hear anything about there being any bad blood between the two of them when Jackson was traded to Los Angeles. Then again, it was a fair few years ago.

“Hayden, you know Jackson Wilde, right?” I ask, motioning to the guy sitting next to my man. “And this is his daughter, Isabela.”

The little blonde chaos gremlin in question comes running over to her dad, throwing her arms around his neck as she suddenly goes shy.

“Y-yeah, I know Jackson.” Hayden clears his throat a few times and gives a stilted nod. “You’re looking really well, Wilde.”

“You’re looking good too, Cassidy,” Jackson says, then stands up with Isabela on his arm. “I’ll leave you guys to it, I’ve gotta get this one fed.” He picks up her backpack and shoes, then turns to Zach. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow, and thanks for my artwork, Isabela.” Zach waves, and she waves back over Jackson’s shoulder.

“Good to see you, Cassidy.” Jackson gives Hayden a clipped nod before heading out of the door.

The three of us stand there in awkward silence as the door clicks closed. I’m not quite sure what to do or say. It’s like theawkwardness when I’m doing an interview with the press, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. But luckily, Hayden breaks the silence by clapping his hands and heading back toward the door.

“You boys feeding me or what?” He sounds like he’s trying to be cheery, but it’s clear his confidence has wavered slightly.

We both follow, and as we’re slipping on our shoes, I look over to Zach and mouth, “What the hell happened there?”

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting opposite Hayden in our favorite Italian restaurant. He seems to have shaken off whatever came over him and is back to being his charming self.

“How’s the vibe heading into the postseason?” he asks Zach, tearing off a piece of bread to dip into the small dish of oil.

“Good. We’re focused and working hard every day. I just hope my migraines don’t make another appearance.”

“Yeah, that’s tough. I’ve played through migraines before, not to the same extent but it’s not something I would recommend. The Thunder are supporting you with treatment, right?”

“Yeah, we have daily sessions now, and I have follow-ups with my neurologist.”

Hayden nods approvingly, taking a bite of his bread before turning his attention to me. “And what about you, Lockwood? How do you feel about next season?”

“You tell me, Cassidy.” I shrug and give him a lazy smile. “I was hoping you were here to bring me some news.”

His eyes twinkle behind his dark-framed glasses as he chuckles. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

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