Page 4 of Romancing the Grump
“Did you know Summer was working for the Appies?”
Felix frowns, probably because Ibarkedmy words more than said them, sounding accusatory.
I clear my throat to try again. “Sorry. Just wondering if you know anything.”
“Well, yeah,” he answers like it’s a given. “Gracie and Summer have been talking about it since before Christmas. Remember on Sunday when I asked if you could help out with something?”
“My sister was in town with her kids.”
Felix waves his hand dismissively. “Not the point. We had enough help. But that’s what we were doing. We were helping Summer move in.”
My stomach tightens. “She’s living here?” But that’s a stupid thing to ask because of course she’s living here. She’sworkinghere.
Felix props his hands on his hips, his massive form looming over me in a way that might be intimidating if it were anyone but him. At six foot five, he’s the only guy on the team who’s taller than I am, but I know him too well to find him menacing in any situation—even on the ice. He’s the goalie, so he’s not usually in a position to pick fights, but even if he wasn’t, Felix is the kind of player who relies on his brain more than his muscle.
“In one of those condos that just went up next to the river,” Felix says. “That’s close to your place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. A mile or so down the road.” I lift a hand and run it across the back of my neck, which suddenly feels itchy and hot.
Summer Callahan lives a mile away from me.
The first time we met a few months ago, Summer was pretty flirty, even suggesting she’d be open to hanging out sometime. I made some excuse, fully expecting her to move on to one of my much more interesting teammates.
That’s usually how it goes. It only takes women about ten minutes to decide I’m too quiet or disengaged for them towaste their efforts when there are guys like Van or Alec around—guys who are quick to smile and even quicker to pay a compliment. Which is fine with me. They’re better at talking to women than I am, and I’m just fine keeping to myself.
Few things irritate me more than small talk. I don’t like inane questions, and small talk is almost always inane, and I don’t like the pressure to…I don’t know. Impress? Convince someone they want to get to know me more? It’s just easier to…not.
But Summer—she was not deterred by my one-word answers. She rolled her eyes at my grunted responses, then made a game out of creating a fictional life for me.
She made up a favorite food, a favorite cocktail. She gave me a favorite Appies teammate and invented six sisters I decidedly do not have, labeling me as the brooding older brother. She even invented a dad who was a former NHL star—the only piece of my life she actually guessed correctly.
Except, in her version, my father was doting and proud instead of bitter anddead.
If only I could trade my version for hers. My life probably would have been a lot less complicated.
I reach up and finger Dad’s Stanley Cup ring. I’ve been wearing it on a chain around my neck since the hospital returned it to Mom three weeks after my sixteenth birthday, the day after my father died. I haven’t taken it off in almost ten years.
Just not for the reasons people think.
“Is there a reason why you’re so curious about Summer?” Felix asks. “Had I thought it mattered, I would have mentioned it. But…you only met her the one time, right?”
“No, yeah. And it’s fine. There’s no reason you wouldhave told me. I just…saw her this morning on my way in. She caught me by surprise.”
And likely thinks I’m the biggest jerk on the team. No big deal.
Felix nods, but I get the sense he doesn’t fully believe me. “Malik will probably introduce her at the team meeting,” he says. “You ready to walk up?”
I barely stifle my groan. The meeting is no surprise—we always have team meetings on Monday mornings—but I’d rather not see Summer again so soon after I acted like a complete idiot. Should I apologize? Try to explain? Ignore her and act like it never happened?
I follow Felix toward the door, wishing we were headed to the ice instead of upstairs to the conference room. I don’t mind the meetings—though I liked them more when all we did was watch game tape and call it good. But here lately, we’ve been spending as much time on social media as anything else.
Our social media manager, Parker, has basically turned us into internet stars. I don’t understand how or why what she shares works, but I know better than to question. Thanks to her, we’re getting a lot more attention than your typical minor league team. Attention means endorsements and deals and licensing agreements, not to mention sold-out games, whether we’re home or away.
My contract renewed this year, and when the Appies offered me a solo standard contract, meaning I’llonlyplay for the Appies without the possibility of getting called up to the Hurricanes, our NHL affiliate, I didn’t hesitate before signing.
That might sound like career suicide, but the paycheck the Appies offered felt like the opposite. Besides, the Summit feels like home. Hard to put a price on that—not when thelist of players wanting to come play with us is getting longer by the day.
“You know,” Felix says as we make our way toward the elevator, “if therewasa reason you were asking about Summer, I wouldn’t be mad about it.”
