Page 64 of Love at Teamsgiving
Who’d have thought all it would take is to get Junie in my jersey at a hockey game for her to realize she still has feelings for me?
Given the loud and crowded room, I don’t know who sees us, but I don’t care.
Junie gestures to the half-filled paper plate that she picks up from a nearby table. “I should bring this to my mom.”
“Thank her for twisting your arm to come out.”
“You can thank her yourself,” she replies as sassy as ever. But the glimmer in her eyes tells me that the kiss was as good for her as it was for me.
I lean in and whisper, “Even better than scoring and winning.”
She tilts her head in question as if to challenge my assertion that our kiss trumped the game.
“I said what I said.” Then, with a wink, I turn to Booker, the team staffer, who offers congratulations.
The next thirty minutes are a flurry of accolades, recitations of stats, gameplay critiques from armchair coaches, and still more congratulations.
It’s a whirlwind, but my attention never strays too far from where Junie is in the room. With her mother—also in Knights garb and surprisingly chummy with my mom.
With Margo and Leah—wearing Grimaldi’s jersey. I’ll have to tell Junie to warn Leah about our third-string defenseman. The guy is full of himself and not a team player. I doubt he’ll last long on the Knights, given the family dynamic and camaraderie.
On a related note, I still can’t figure out Coach Badaszek. He didn’t so much as acknowledge me during the debrief, but that’s okay. I don’t need him to inflate my ego or for him to pat me on the head. No, the only thing I want, the only one I want, is in this room, wearing my jersey.
Tony, my brother, claps me on the back. “My man. That was epic.”
My ears turn pink because I’m thinking about kissing Junie and not the game. Time to get my head back on straight.
He lifts his cup in a cheers gesture. “I like the idea of partying before we work. Dad got the permit, so we’re good to go on Monday.”
“Did he tell you about the ceiling?” After Junie left the salon earlier, I called Pop to come down and check it out. He thought it was incredibly odd and brought up the suspicious person who exited through the back door not long ago.
My brother shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Paulie and I are going to head in tomorrow to do a forensic assessment.”
Paulie, almost as tall as me, appears. “But first, we’re going to have some fun.”
Not only do the Knights know how to celebrate, but bring at least two Cruz brothers to an event and it’s bound to be a party. Having played for three other teams, the Knights know how to do it right.
I’m like one of Pop’s bocce balls, bouncing from one conversation to another before I find myself with Vohn Brandt, our assistant coach.
He says, “That was some opener.”
I nod, not wanting to gloat, but unsure what the organization thinks of me, if at all.
“I couldn’t figure out why Badaszek took a chance on you, Cruz. Glad you lived up to the hype.”
I’ll say. Sports media is calling mesensational, astick sniper, and hockey’s next big thing.
The corner of Vohn’s lip lifts in the closest thing I’ve ever seen on him that approximates a smile.
I’m not sure if that’s an insult or a compliment. The hype? “Just doing my job, sir.”
“Play with that much pepper at each game, continue to work with your teammates,” he slants his eyes in Grimaldi’s direction, then continues, “and I foresee a certain oversized trophy in our future.” Vohn claps me on the shoulder. For a second, I imagine what a puck must feel like when it gets walloped by a stick. Both Vohn and Badaszek played in the NHL and must’ve devastated the ice in their day.
And Junie devastates me. Head tipped back in laughter, revealing the smooth length of her throat, I tune my ears to the sound of her laughter. It doesn’t take me long to find it among the din. My pulse kicks when I think about us continuing the kissfrom earlier, my lips working their way along that soft skin, and feeling the pounding of her heart against my chest.
The comment Pierre made about Badaszek fancying himself a matchmaker floats into my mind. Seems the guy likes for his players to be in committed relationships, but I see a double meaning.
Badaszek matches players he sees who will work well together and who’ll be committed to the enterprise of winning the finals. Just like in personal relationships, it takes communication, patience, cooperation, and at times compromise—same as Mrs. Popovik said during the car ride.
