Page 80 of The Import Slot
“I—” he starts, but he doesn’t finish. Instead, he moves to the sofa and sits down, his eyes fixed on the screen. The play camera is now directed at the ice, and he’s back to doing something on his phone.
“He said he had news, but I asked him about Vicky instead.” He looks confused, like that face Joey from Friends pulls when he’s trying to teach his acting students how to fake react to bad news. “I need to call my Dad,” he says, getting up and going into my room.
I stare blankly at the TV, not sure what to do; selfishly, I want to switch to the Sens game but keep the Leafs on, hoping we’ll see more of Liam.
Ryan returns five minutes later and sits down next to me, pulling the blanket over himself.
“My dad said he got called up to cover an injury. The guy is on concussion protocol, and they think Liam will be sent back to the Marlies within ten days.”
“Yeah, but he made it! He’s got the shirt! You must be feeling so proud of him!”
“Yeah, I am. Of course, I am.”
There’s something there, though, in his voice. I wonder if he’s feeling like he’s missing out while his brother sits on the bench in the National Hockey League. Ryan has played and lost tonight in the Elite Hockey League, where he’s feeling frustrated by the skill gap.
We sit and watch the game in silence, his hand in mine and his arm around my shoulders. Occasionally, he leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“Do you think Vicky is okay?” he asks finally.
I’ve been wondering the same thing, but I figured she’d prefer space for a short while, anyway.
“I’ll check on her soon,” I say.
But an hour later, when I knock on her door, it swings open, but she isn’t there.
I pull my phone out and call her. It rings and rings with no answer, but a text comes through.
Vicky:I’m at Johnny’s. See you tomorrow.
Chapter 22
Ryan
“You’reinagoodmood today,” Bettsy says, taking a seat behind me. “Get laid, did you?” He pokes his face through the gap between the seats and grins at me. It takes a lot of restraint not to throw my elbow back into his nose.
“Ryan, you’re with me.” Johnny sits down and beckons me over; I’m unsure if he’s doing me a favour.
“I hear your brother got called up,” he says as I sit down.
I spent a good chunk of time awake last night texting Liam from Jen’s bed, which means I’m feeling it today; nothing a morning blowjob didn’t help with though.
“Yeah, he’s in good shape,” I say.
I tell Johnny what Liam and I were texting about. The likelihood of him going back down in around ten days, depending on how things play out with the concussion protocol.
“Some guys just spend their careers being pulled and pushed between the teams,” Johnny says, stating the obvious.
I’ve seen it happen too, and it sucks, but you have to play each game like it’s your last.
“How does Liam feel about it?” he asks.
“He’s just grateful for the shot,” I say. “Vicky seemed pretty upset last night when we saw him on TV. Is she okay?” I ask.
“She will be. I think it was just a bit of a kick in the guts for her. Not that she wanted to be over there with him, with that lifestyle and all, but to her, it was something she always expected to share with him. She’s still pissed with me, but last night she needed her big brother.”
I nod, not sure what to say about it since it’s technically none of my business. When she got the job here, everyone thought it was because Johnny had put in a good word. Turns out they recruited her through an agency, so they didn’t know her brother was in the organisation.
Johnny grabs a notepad and pen out of his backpack before switching the subject to Jen, who’s sitting down at the front with Vicky. They’re looking at something on Vicky’s camera, and Vicky laughs. It’s a wicked laugh that gets the attention of some of the guys as it travels through the air.
