Page 24 of Safety Net
Henrik’s laugh echoed. “You live in a fantasy world.”
I knew good and well Henrik could smoke me any hour of the day. I also knew, deep down, underneath all his politeness lay a hardened competitor. That’s why he got to be Sam’s right man, why he could keep up with Finn’s speed. Why did he opted to be here with me during break, even though our typical off-season schedule didn’t require (and, in fact, discouraged) any ice time.
“When’s the last time you did it?” I lingered in the doorway.
He opened his mouth and closed it again as he paused, deep in thought. The current version of Henrik couldn’t tell a lie (teenage Henrik would be appalled).
“Exactly.” I tapped the door frame. “See you out there. Preferably with game.”
Henrik tossed a glove in my direction. I chuckled when it missed me and headed out to the rink. I thought I was a little early and would earn some points from Anthony . But some guy was already waiting on the ice.
“Lincoln Hill.” The monotoned greeting felt harder than the ice he stood on.
“Anthony Jackson.” I smiled. He didn’t return it.
Anthony was a stocky guy with dark brown skin and blonde-tipped locs that barely reached his shoulders. He squinted at me as I stepped onto the rink and made my way over to him.
“I expected you’d be here well before me and already warmed up.” He tossed down the last of his cones.
“My bad?” I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. “I could have sworn I was on time.”
“On time is late. Your bad cost us twenty-five minutes.” He held up his watch, showing me the timer I was apparently on. “Practice starts at eight AM. That means you’re already warmed up and ready to go.”
“Honestly, all I need is a couple of these.” I swung my arms back and forth. And did a few (admittedly shallow) lunges. “And I’m good to go, boss.”
Anthony frowned, unimpressed. We were quiet for a second, an awkward standoff between strangers who somehow already had one-sided beef.
“Finish a real warm-up and come find me when you’re done,” he said finally.
I opened my mouth to apologize, but snapped it shut before I could. From the deep-set frown he wore, that was not what he wanted to hear. After years of training, playing on varsity teams, and heeding coaches, I knew how to mold. I learned how to fit myself into any box for small periods.
Anthony wouldn’t take an excuse. In fact, he would probably find it one of the most offensive things I could do.
“Yes, sir,” I said, hoping some show of respect would make up for my mistake. Sam hadn’t been kidding; this guy was all-business.
I started my usual warm-up routine, glancing in Anthony’s direction in the box now and then. He scratched down something in a small, worn notebook. His gaze never once strayed from the pages to check my progress. Henrik joined me halfway through, already sensing bloated tension on the quiet rink.
“Serious?” Henrik asked.
“Deathly.” I tried to catch my breath from the most intense sprints I’d ever done. Anthony had called from the sidelines once, asking, “Is that really as fast as you can go?”
I wouldn’t take that lying down, even when my knee started throbbing in protest. It’d taken longer than I expected to recover from the fall from the ladder. Bouncing back at twenty-one wasn’t as easy as it’d been at thirteen.
“Nice, maybe you’ll learn something new,” Henrik noted.
I snorted. “Better. He’s costing my folks seventy-five an hour.”
“Speaking of payment.” Anthony surprised us both by no longer being in the box but a few feet away. His skates barely made noise on the ice. It was almost like he floated above it. Maybe that was his problem. With the ability to float above everything, surely one would become too humorless to let something as simple as a warm-up slide.
“Who are you?” Anthony asked Henrik.
“A friend.” Henrik pushed himself up to give him a proper greeting. “I’m Henrik Olsen. I thought I’d be a body if you guys needed it.”
“You’re on the Hawks with Hill?” Anthony asked with a raised brow. He looked Henrik up and down, assessing his smaller build.
“I am.” Henrik stood as straight as he could with pads on his shoulders.
Anthony studied him for a moment before finally saying, “I guess if you have the free time, I could use you. This works better if Lincoln has more than one opponent.”
