Only One Chance (Only One 2)

“Don’t make me go by myself,” I say. “I don’t want to be the only one.”

“Ask Manning,” he says. I turn in my seat, and I don’t even have to ask him.

“No,” he snaps out. “It’s a mall.”

“Exactly! You can, I don’t know, start your Christmas shopping,” I tell him, and he just glares at me.

“You’re my captain. You don’t leave anyone behind,” I tell him, trying not to laugh.

“This is hockey, not the military,” Manning says, and then huffs out. “Fine, Ralph and I will both come.”

“Hey,” Ralph says. “How did I get sucked into this?”

“Assistant captain,” Manning says. “We leave no man down.”

He shakes his head, and when we get to the hotel, we dump our bags and rush out to the mall. Ralph is typing away on his phone, and so is Manning. “You guys are worse than girls.”

“The question is why aren’t you texting Layla?” Manning asks right before we get into the waiting van that the hotel got for us.

“That’s over,” I say, my voice low, and they both look at me. “What?”

“That’s over?” Ralph asks. “I’m so confused. When did it start?”

“Fuck you,” I say, flipping him the bird. “She’s so …” I shake my head. “She’s so …”

“She’s so all up in your head.” Manning laughs.

“She told me yesterday she can’t date me because I’m two different people,” I say out of frustration, and I look at them.

“What does that mean?” Manning asks, and I shrug.

“She had to have told you more than that,” Ralph says. “She’s not just going to leave you hanging like that. No girl would.”

“So she loves the Miller who cooks her dinner and does stuff, but she hates the Miller who flirts with girls in front of her.”

“You flirt with girls in front of her?” Manning folds his hands together.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “They were fans. They came up to me, and you know you have to be nice to them.”

“Were these fans women?” Ralph asks, and I nod.

“Don’t even start,” I say to them. “You pose for pictures with girls.”

“I do,” Manning says, and so does Ralph.

“But,” Manning says, “I don’t call them sweetie and beautiful.”

I look at him. “I don’t do that.”

He and Ralph both laugh. Ralph talks before Manning. “You always do. And you put your—”

“Arm around them, bringing them close to you,” Manning finishes.

“Don’t you?”

“Fuck no,” Ralph says. “One, I would never even do that for fear she might think something else, and two, that sends the wrong message.”

“It does not,” I tell them.

“When you pose with guys, do you call them handsome?” Manning asks, and I just glare at him. “Do you hug them and pull them closer?”

“Exactly,” Ralph says.

“Whatever. It means nothing,” I tell them. “That is a part of the job.”

“What job?” Manning asks, and Ralph just looks at me. “I don’t think she’s telling you not to be nice to the fans. I think she’s telling you to stop with the smiling and the joking and the touching.”

“You can be nice without all that. It also blurs the lines. It makes them think you want them or they actually have a chance,” Ralph says. “What would you do if you walked with her, and she did that with guys? Called them hot stuff and shit. Makes them hug her and pose for a picture.” The thought makes me bite down on my jaw. “Exactly.”

We get to the mall and step in, and I can tell already that a couple of people recognize us. “Great,” I say and look over at Manning. “Why do you have to stick out like a sore thumb?”

“I’m six feet six,” he says. “There’s nothing I can do.”

A couple of kids come up to us and ask us for our autograph and to take pictures, and then I look over and see three girls twirling their hair. “Incoming,” Ralph says, and I look up.

“Oh my God,” one of them says. “Are you guys hockey players?”

“We are,” Manning says. “Have a great night.”

“That’s how it’s done,” Ralph says, and I walk ahead when one of the girls asks for a picture.

“Sure,” I say, then turn to the guys. “Look at this.” The guys walk over to the girls. “Are we taking selfies?” I say, and I almost call them beautiful, but I stop myself. My mouth almost drops open in shock that they might actually be right. One of the girls slides up to me, but I put my hands in my pockets and pose with a smile. “Have a great night.”

“Oh, we will now,” one of them says, and I turn to walk away without saying anything.

“How’s it going?” Manning asks when we walk into the store.

“She was right,” I say softly. “Like I didn’t see it before.”

“Look, you can be professional without the touching and the flirting,” Manning says. He picks up a jacket for me, and I try it on as the sales lady walks over with a smile.