Page 12 of Time to Shine

“Super into those right now. I watched one today where they showed how pool balls are made. Like, billiard balls. Not beach balls. It was fucking neat.”

“Was it on YouTube?” Landon asked, not because he cared, but because it seemed like a friendly thing to ask.

“I don’t remember. Somewhere. Mind if I turn on the TV?”

So he was staying, then. “Go ahead.”

Casey flipped through the channels, landing on a show about ice road truckers. It kept him quiet for about a minute and a half, and then he said, “So. Partner?”

“Partner?”

“Yeah. Girlfriend, boyfriend.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Both?”

Good grief. “No.”

“Me neither. I’m just having fun, y’know?”

“Meeting people.”

Casey grinned. “Yeah! You get it. No reason to tie myself down yet.”

Since Casey was all of twenty-three years old, Landon agreed. As for himself, a romantic relationship wasn’t something that was even on his radar and “Emotionally mangled weirdo with an intense work schedule” wasn’t a great dating app profile.

“So the bar we’re going to tonight is totally chill and fun. It’s not a club or anything. More like a sports bar kind of? I always try to go there when we’re in St. Louis.”

“I’m going to try to get to bed early.”

“Yeah, yeah. But come out for a bit. One drink. Or no drinks, if you want. Do you drink?”

“Sometimes. A bit.”

“One drink. Get to know some of your teammates. We’re totally nice. How’s Westy treating you?”

“Fine. Seems cool.”

“I love Westy. He can be a dick sometimes but he’s just, y’know, focused. He wants to be a star. I think he will be.”

Landon thought of a real question he could ask Casey, but he wasn’t sure if it was rude or not. Finally, he just blurted it out. “Are any of the guys ever jealous of you, do you think?”

“Why? Because I’m hot?” Casey flashed another easy smile. “They should be.”

Landon’s ears felt hot. “Because of your dad, I meant.”

Casey’s face scrunched up as he considered the question. “Mm...yeah. Maybe. I get chirped about it on the ice a lot, but then I just take the puck and score a goal. Hard to give Dad credit for those.”

Landon found himself suddenly very curious about what it would be like to have a celebrity father. He tried to come up with a coherent question, but Casey beat him to it.

“I don’t even think my game is anything like Dad’s. For one thing, he’s like three inches taller, which sucks for me. Where the fuck did those genes go, right? He was way more physical. I’m fast.”

“And creative,” Landon added, because it was what Casey Hicks was best known for. Flashy, highlight-reel goals and passes.

Casey tapped the side of his own head. “Hockey IQ. I’ve got it. Good thing because I am fucking stupid besides hockey.”

“You’re not stupid,” Landon said automatically, even though he hadn’t been provided with a ton of evidence to support that. Still, he didn’t like Casey putting himself down.

“Nah, it’s fine. I know myself pretty well, and I am for sure not smart.”

Landon wasn’t sure how to argue with him, so he didn’t. Instead he watched a commercial that reminded him the holiday season had begun. It wasn’t, historically, his favorite time of year. If it were up to Landon, there wouldn’t be a break in the hockey schedule for Christmas so he could avoid having three days with nothing to do but wallow in guilt and loneliness.

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