Page 42 of Time to Shine

They ended the call, and Landon stayed exactly where he was, sitting on his bed in the dark, for a long time. He stared at nothing and tried to process his feelings.

Eventually, he left the bed and decided to hit the treadmill. A hard run usually settled him. It was something he’d started doing in the weeks after Erin died—an excuse to leave the house, where the grief had been so heavy it had threatened to crush him. He’d pushed himself, running faster and farther every day, his sneakers pounding the streets of Eastern Passage until his head was clear and the burning in his lungs briefly replaced the agony of losing his sister. These days he ran to overcome anxiety, loneliness, insomnia, and, still, that unending agony of loss.

By the time he’d run ten kilometers on Casey’s treadmill, stretched, showered, and dressed, he was more or less ready to face other people. He heard Casey stomping around upstairs, so he went up to make breakfast.

He reached the top of the stairs just in time to watch Casey fumble and drop three oranges that he’d seemingly been trying to juggle.

“Hey, Stacks,” Casey said cheerfully. “Do you know how to juggle?”

His hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and he was wearing a white T-shirt that was full of holes. The neck was all stretched out, making a display of his collarbones. None of it should have made Landon’s mouth go dry.

Landon swallowed, then crossed the room to retrieve the oranges from the floor. At least now he knew why he’d spotted oranges on the couch the day he’d moved in. “Promise to be cool about this?”

“Nope.”

Landon sighed and started juggling. He was good at it because he’d spent hours and years practicing the skill after his junior team’s goaltending coach had recommended he learn. It promoted hand-eye coordination, focus, and rhythm; all things that were important to goalies. Plus, like running, it had been something to distract him from misery.

“Holy fuck, Stacks! You could be in the circus.”

“That’s the dream.”

“Can you juggle knives?”

“Why the hell would I juggle knives?” Landon asked as he continued to juggle the oranges.

“Because it’s badass.”

“It’s dangerous and stupid.”

“That’s why it’s badass. I would totally juggle knives.”

Landon neatly caught all three oranges. “Please don’t.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I know.” Landon took the oranges to the kitchen and put them in the fridge. “Do you want some eggs?”

“I was just gonna eat breakfast at practice. They have a decent spread, usually.”

“Yeah, but...” Landon pulled a carton of eggs and a flat of turkey sausage out of the fridge. “That’s not for an hour.”

Casey smiled. “Good point. I’ll make coffee.”

Chapter Sixteen

Battle of Alberta games were the fucking best.

Casey always fed off the energy of crowds, and there was no bigger or louder energy than the Calgary home crowd when their team was facing Edmonton. Casey didn’t have any negative feelings about Edmonton personally—he really hadn’t seen much of the city beyond the arena, because they were always in and out quickly when they played there—but he was fully committed to destroying their team and making every citizen of Edmonton cry.

Everyone on the Outlaws felt the same way. It didn’t matter that one of Casey’s best friends from college played for Edmonton, or that Gio Rossi’s cousin played for them. Fuck the Edmonton Drillers forever.

“This one is gonna be nuts, I can feel it,” Casey said in the tunnel as they waited to charge onto the ice.

“Fuck yeah,” Nosey said. “Maybe we’ll get a goalie fight again. That happened...five seasons ago? Fucking great.”

Casey had seen the footage, but he still couldn’t believe Antton had gotten in an actual fight. He’d gotten some good swings in too. “Maybe the backup goalies will fight,” he mused. Then he yelled down the line, “Hey, Stacks. You wanna get in a fight?”

Landon narrowed his eyes and sort of shrugged in a what the fuck are you talking about? kind of way.

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