Pike (Sin City Saints Hockey 2)

I’ll feel like shit tomorrow, though, and we have to leave early to travel to Minneapolis. That usually doesn’t bother me, but I’m just not feeling it right now. I’d rather win the game, have food delivered to my hotel room, FaceTime Jasmine, and call Indie. The thought makes me scrunch up my face in distaste and confusion.

“Am I getting old?”

My inner musing accidentally comes out of my mouth, and Rudy laughs.

“Nah, man. Being a goalie is rough on the knees. We have to be extra careful.”

I look over at him. “I mean, I’m not sure I want to go out tonight. That’s not like me.”

He shrugs. “No one’s feeling it all the time. Road trips can be tiring. If you don’t feel like going out for several weeks in a row, then maybe I’d say you’re probably old.”

Once my knee is iced and wrapped, Katz helps stretch me out and I eat my pregame peanut butter sandwich. Then I find my mental game zone, imagining the game ending in a shutout.

It doesn’t, though. At the end of the first period, we’re tied 2–2, and Dane glares at me from a nearby bench in the visitor’s locker room.

“What?” I ask, mopping sweat from the back of my neck with a towel.

“How many goals are you planning to let them score?”

“Fuck you,” I fire back. “You want to put on this gear and see how you do?”

“No, I’m needed on the first line. Maybe we should give Rudy a go, though.”

“Maybe you should suck my dick.”

I stand up and walk over to Dane, but Grady steps in front of him before I get there.

“Hey. He’s just blowing off steam.”

“He needs to worry about himself,” Kingston says, coming up to stand beside me.

“Sit down, all of you,” Coach barks. “We don’t have time for this shit.”

I walk back to the bench and sit down, shooting daggers at Dane. Coach Bear is talking, but I’m barely listening. I like Dane most of the time, but when he pisses me off, he really pisses me off.

I’ve been working my ass off out there. I didn’t get a look at the scoreboard, but I know Vancouver has had way more shots on goal than we have. Maverick scored one of our goals and Eli scored the other one, so Dane’s got no room to talk.

That never stops him though.

As we walk back out to the ice for the second period, I deliberately bump him with my shoulder as I’m passing him, almost hoping he’ll react because now I’m ready to go. He ignores it, though.

By the end of the game, we’re tied 4–4, and I’m fucking wiped. I imagine Jasmine up late at my house, watching the game. I want to win this one for her.

Neither team scores during the overtime period, so the game progresses to a shoot-out. Only one gets past me, and our team scores three. It’s a win.

“Rain check on going out?” Kingston asks me as we’re both finishing up our showers.

“Yeah, for sure.”

After I dry off and dress, I take my phone out and see a congratulations photo and text from Kylie. Jasmine is holding up her finger to tell me I’m number one, and it makes me smile. Kylie sent another text after that, telling me Jasmine tried to stay awake long enough to FaceTime, but she fell asleep on the couch.

I take an Uber back to my hotel, and hurry up to my room, hopeful that Indie will answer the phone when I call her. I had an idea earlier today that I wanted to run by her. I get her voice mail, though.

“Indie, it’s Pike. I know it’s late, so you’re probably asleep. Call me tomorrow when you can. Night.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Maverick asks as he slides into a seat in the row in front of me.

We’re loading onto the bus that will take us to the airport to fly to Minneapolis for our game tonight. Everyone’s quiet this morning, probably because they’re tired from the long game last night.

“Not much,” I say. “Could’ve gone for another hour of sleep.”

“No shit. I’m going to start traveling with my own pillow. The one I had in my room last night sucked.”

“Same.” I pull my headphones down from my ears, even though I wasn’t listening to anything yet. “How’s Gia?”

He grins. “She’s great. We should all get dinner sometime.”

“Yeah, sounds fun.”

He sits down and Rudy counts everyone on the bus to make sure no one’s getting left behind. The bus pulls out, and I put on my headphones and turn on a sports podcast, zoning out until we get to the airport. On the flight, I sleep for around an hour, and when I check my phone after landing, I see a missed call from Indie.

We’re on our way to the arena in Minneapolis for a morning skate, and I’m not calling her back in front of my teammates. Who knows what the fuck they’ll say about me that she could overhear. Pax likes to yell at guys to quit banging strippers when they’re on the phone with their wives or girlfriends. Also, if a teammate is on the phone with his wife, Pax is fond of loudly asking if he has a girlfriend, and vice versa. That never goes over well.