Page 1 of O Goalie Night
CHAPTER 1
FOSTER
“Do you know why you’re my best friend, Fozzie?”
Here we go.
Anytime Ben Michaels starts a conversation with those words, I can be certain of two things:
He’s about to compliment me until I’m uncomfortable.
He’s going to ask me for a favour.
I sigh and continue stripping out of my goalie gear. It’s just the two of us left in the locker room; the rest of our teammates are either still in the showers or gone for the day. “No, man. Why am I your best friend?”
He sits down on the bench next to me and I brace myself for the imminent praise.
“Because you’re selfless. Even though you’re one of the top goalies in the NHL, you always put your friends first. You look out for me off the ice like I look after you on the ice. I know that I can always count on you at anytime of any day to drop what you’re doing and help a brother out. I love you, man.”
Christ. He’s laying it on thick today.
I manoeuvre out of my shoulder pads and turn to face him, biting back a laugh at the expression of sheer earnestness on his face. He’s looking at me like a kid begging for the puppy he knows his mom is allergic to.
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to ask me for a kidney?”
His facade crumbles as his face splits into a grin, those famous dimples making an appearance. “I promise, you won’t need general anaesthesia for what I need you to do.”
“Spit it out, Michaels. I need to shower.”
“You remember my sister, Beth?”
“I remember Beth,” Austin Crawford pipes up as he struts in, fresh from the showers, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Stopping at his locker on the other end of the room, he removes the towel and runs it roughly through his wet hair. He pumps his eyebrows and grins at Ben who tosses a dirty towel at him as he tells him to fuck off.
I happen to know that Ben has three sisters. “Which one is Beth? The teacher, the one who married the clown, or the one that scares the shit out of you?”
He rolls his eyes. “Ally married a magician, though he is a total Bozo. And it’s Tara that scares the shit out of me.”
“Isn’t she barely more than five feet tall?”
“Terror knows no size limitations, Fozz. Have you ever seen a tarantula? They’re also a lot smaller than I am, and, like my sister, fucking terrifying. Now, back to Beth.”
Right. Beth. My brain conjures up a memory of meeting his sisters after games. Beth was the taller one? The school teacher with big brown eyes? “I vaguely remember making awkward conversation with her once or twice.”
“Most of your conversations are awkward, big guy,” Ben drawls, causing Austin to snort with laughter as he pulls on a pair of jeans.
He’s not wrong, but I glare at him anyway. I don’t mind talking to people one-on-one, but I’ve never done well in crowds. There are too many distractions and I have a hard time focusing. I’m usually so worried that I’ll say the wrong thing around people I don’t know well that I opt to say nothing at all. “You know, I’m pretty sure I’m busy tonight, so–”
“No, no, no. I take it back,” he begs. “You’re a sparkling conversationalist. A real crowd pleaser. You talk so, soooo good.”
“I’m going to shower.” I stand and start tearing off my remaining sweat-soaked gear.
