by Sarah Hegger
Nearly everything. Elizabeth really looked at the young faces absorbing the experience with something akin to worship.
“I’ve known Sam a long time.” She didn’t want to give away too much, because although she understood what Marc had said, she still didn’t entirely trust him. “He had to fight every day to play hockey. He wanted it bad enough to keep going despite how much his mother desperately wanted him to play something less violent.”
Gracie turned to watch Sam with an assessing look on his face. “I didn’t know that.”
“He’s too loyal to his mother to ever say anything, but Sam would get in a car with the devil to get to hockey. He’d beg, borrow and steal to buy his own equipment. My dad was the first adult to help him out.”
“And you?” Gracie cocked his head. “Where do you fit in?”
It was a valid question and not one she had an answer for. “I used to provide the Pretty Princess Sparkle Palace that he destroyed with pucks. I was also his first fight on the ice.” She smirked. “I won, by the way.”
Throwing back his head, Gracie laughed.
“Sam was shorter then,” she said.
“Can I quote you on that?’ Gracie’s eyes still gleamed with mirth.
“Only if you really want to make him squirm.”
Still chuckling Gracie nodded. “I’ll remember that. So how do you fit in now? Still just friends?”
“Always friends,” she said. Gracie was still a journalist.
“You’re a great girl, Elizabeth.” Gracie shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hope Sam has grown up enough to appreciate what he has. He hasn’t always.”
Chris closed in on her the moment Gracie turned back to the press cluster. “What did he want?”
Elizabeth summarized her conversation with Gracie.
“Hmm.” Chris studied Gracie across the stadium. “You know, he has a point about when Sam first joined the league. There was so much buzz around him.”
“There still is.”
“Don’t snap my head off.” Chris rolled her eyes. “I’m not criticizing your precious Sam. I’m saying the buzz around his playing faded and became more about him as a hockey party boy.”
She did need to put her hackles down. It wasn’t so long ago that she’d have been first in line to take a swipe at Sam. “Sorry.”
“Don’t get me wrong, he’s still one helluva player and every now and again he produces enough magic to keep us all salivating for more.”
As she said it, Elizabeth hoped like hell she was right. “I think he’s learned his lesson and you’ll see a new side to Sam.”
When the players left the ice, Elizabeth would have loved to hang around and spend some time with Sam, but she had a busload of little hockey players to get home.
She left a text for Sam and got with herding everyone in the right direction.
They got back home, and she went to the office to finish up some work she’d left hanging while she took the time off to go to Sam’s practice. Her dad hadn’t objected to her going and seemed a bit better about her spending time with Sam. Still, she didn’t want to give her dad anything to bitch at her about.
She got home late and changed into comfy clothes. While she was pouring herself a glass of wine, Sam called.
“Lizzie.” He sounded happy. “Thanks for coming today and bringing everyone.”
“Are you kidding me?” A warm glow filled her chest and Elizabeth got comfortable on the couch. “I couldn’t have stopped them if I tried. And all is forgiven as regards you missing the game.”
“I may be missing a lot more of those.” He also sounded tired.
Elizabeth wished she could be with him. “Everyone understands. Now tell me how things are going there.”
“I’m playing my first game tomorrow.”
“Sam!” She almost spilled her wine. “Really?”
“Yup, tomorrow night. Unfortunately it’s an away game.”
She corralled her disappointment at not being able to attend. “Why unfortunately?”
“I won’t get to see you before I go. We’re flying out first thing in the morning.”
“Ah.” She would miss seeing him too. “But I’ll see you when you get back, right?”
“Right.” He sighed. “Only we go to Pittsburgh tomorrow and then jump a flight to San Antonio after that game. We’re only back on Thursday, which is South Pacific night.”
“Damn.” They could always do without her for one night.
“Regardless, I’ll only be back in the wee hours of the morning from San Antonio and then we have practice that day. The next night we play here though.”
“Friday?”
“It’s a home game,” he said. “And then you can bet your ass I’m on my way down there to see you.”
It seemed like an endless time to wait, but this was Sam’s life and giving him crap about it wasn’t her way. He didn’t make the league schedule up. Besides, this was his chance to make up for lost ground. All that they’d done together had been to get him to this point and now he had to take the opportunity.
Time to show Gracie how wrong he was.
“If you’re not too tired, I’ll see you Friday,” she said. “Or I can come up there and make it easier for you.”
He yawned. “I want to see you, Lizzie.”
“Me too.” She ached to hug him. “I’m so proud of you and I want you to know that.”
His voice softened. “Babe.”
“You can do this, Sam, I know you can. And I’ll be watching all your games. Every. Single. One.”
“You will?”
“Damn straight.”
He yawned again. “Fuck! I’m tired. I’d almost forgotten how grueling this can be.”
“You need to sleep.” So maybe it was good he was in his flat in Ottawa, because if he’d been with her, Lizzie doubted she could have let him sleep. “Tomorrow you’re going to show everyone who ever criticized you how wrong they were.”
“Thanks, Lizzie.” He went silent for a moment. “For all of it. Everything you’ve done for me. I doubt I’d be here without you.”
“It was my pleasure.” And it really was. She wasn’t so sure what that meant for her. Could Sam be done with her? Had he taken what he needed and moved on?
Chapter 26
Sam sat in front of his stall and got geared up for the Storm game. The Storm was a physical, quick team and wasn’t going to give him an easy slide back into the groove.
Neither were the Titans for that matter. Other than Guy and Dawson the team pretty much kept their distance from him. Sure, they were polite and most of them had welcomed him back, but his antics had cost the team.
His suspension had left them with a weakened first line at a critical time in the season. They’d lost ten games in a row and no pro hockey player wanted those sorts of stats. Since that losing streak, they’d made adjustments and clawed their way back into a wild card position. But they wouldn’t have struggled so much if he hadn’t gotten his ass suspended.
Coach came into the locker room and the chatter died down. “Listen up, boys. Starting offense, Dawson, Larson, Koskinen.” Sam cheered along with the rest of the team. “Trapper in the cage.”
Sam blew Guy a kiss, which he mimed catching and tucking in his pads.
Coach went on to defense. So, Sam wouldn’t be starting. He should have expected as much, but it still bit. God, he wished like hell he could call Lizzie and bitch. She would know what to say to him.
She’d probably tell him to get over himself. He’d pissed everyone in the Titans corporation off with his antics. He’d have to take his punishment until he could change their minds about him.
Even thinking about Lizzie made him feel better. She would be watching tonight, and he knew what he wanted her to see. Not Sam sulking on the bench because he didn’t get to play with the new toys first, but the Sam she believed him to be: focused, motivated and ready to kick ass.
He stood and grabbed his stick. Tonight Pittsburgh wa
s going to see him at his best. If that meant two minutes of ice time or twenty, he would make it count.
“Trapper.” He rapped his stick against Guy’s pads. “You make sure you give them nothing on your end, and we’ll light that lamp up for you.”
Guy held his gloves up for a two-handed punch. “Stone Crush!”
* * * *
Sam let himself into his hotel room in San Antonio, a hair after two a.m. His bones ached with the rattling they’d been given tonight.
He stripped of his tie and hung his suit jacket in the wardrobe.
Pittsburgh had been chippy as fuck with him tonight. Not that he blamed them. He’d have pulled exactly the same shit. See how long it took for him to lose his shit.
Ha! The laugh was on them because Sam did not lose his shit. Instead he cost Pittsburgh three penalties. One of which resulted in a power play goal.
His team had been a degree warmer to him postgame. He had sat with Guy during the flight and managed to doze off for a bit. The ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime was an asset to a hockey player.
It was after three in Ottawa, and Lizzie would be fast asleep. He closed his eyes and pictured her like that. Lizzie slept like a cat, everything neat and tucked away, her hand beneath her cheek.
God he missed her. She would know exactly what to say to make him feel okay with the team’s attitude toward him. She could make him laugh about Pittsburgh bearing down on him. And she would say his name in that soft, sweet way that said she had his back.
Unable to resist, he texted her that he’d arrived in San Antonio. She also slept like the dead so nothing—
His phone rang.
Hardly daring to hope, he answered the call.
“Sam.” Lizzie’s voice reached down the line and touched his bruised body and weary spirit. “I was hoping you’d call.”
“It’s late for you.” He couldn’t be more thrilled. Sitting on the bed edge, he toed off his dress shoes and peeled off his socks.
She sighed. “Yeah, but I was thinking about you and I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“Leonard is going to be hell to take tomorrow on no sleep.”
Her deep Lizzie chuckle stroked velvet fingers down his spine. “Leonard is always hell to take. He’s a bit like Dante’s Inferno. He has levels of hell.”
“Huh.” He unbuttoned his shirt and stretched out on the bed. “Is that a pizza place or like one of those smart books that smart girls read?”
“Pizza place on Westminster road. They do a meat lover’s to die for.”
And like that she had him shrugging off his night and laughing. “Did you watch the game?”
She snorted. “Of course I watched the game. Maddy and Chris came around and we made a party of it.”
“Chris and Maddy.” He shook his head. Not a pairing that would have occurred to him, but it made sense.
The phone crackled as she moved about. “Yeah, I think they’re talking about moving in together.”
“That’s fast.”
“Maybe.” Her voice went gentle. “When you know you know. At least that’s what I’ve always believed.”
“There’s my Dizzy Lizzie, being all sappy and romantic.”
“Screw you.” She laughed. “The game was incredible, by the way. You were incredible. Even Marc Gracie climbed off your ass.”
“Dear God. I think a pig flew past my window.”
She chuckled and then said, “You did good, Sam.”
“Yeah?” And he grew three feet. “They had it in for me.”
“Hey.” She got her sassy Lizzie voice on. “You’re an annoying guy. Of course they had it in for you.”
“Damn, that’s harsh and from my girl, as well.”
“Your girl?” Her voice got serious.
That shouldn’t have slipped out. Sure, Lizzie had been his girl from the moment he stopped wanting to egg her house and wanted to kiss her instead. Still, they’d never had the exclusivity talk or the where-do-we-go-from-here talk. He wanted all those conversations with Lizzie but not at three thirty in the morning. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”
“It’s weird.” She exhaled noisily. “But it’s okay with me.”
When they were face to face, they could talk about this more but for now, he needed to lighten up. “Does this mean I need to give you a promise ring or you’ll wear my jacket?”
“Nah.” She went with him on the mood. “But if you have a secret decoder ring, I’d be in for that.”
“Hey.” He’d forgotten. “Do you remember when they were giving those away in boxes of cereal?”
“Yup. You tried to pour all the cereal out to get them.”
Even back then, he’d been a kid with a plan. “I did get them.”
“Only the first two.” Lizzie sounded really smug. “But I got to the next boxes before you, took out the real ones and put one of the old two back.”
“Hey!” Getting the same ring had been horribly disappointing. “Not only did you con me, but you maybe scarred me for life.”
“How are you feeling about the game?” She got serious again.
“Honestly.” And she was the only place he could be honest. “I would have liked more ice time. Coach is still feeling me out, and the rest of the team is still pissed.
She sighed. “I’m sorry about that, but they’ll get over themselves. And you have Guy.”
“Yeah, I have Guy. And Dawson is being fairly decent as well.”
“Huh.” Lizzie paused. “Now I don’t feel so bad for thinking he’s hot.”
“I almost forgot about your little crush.” Even knowing his chain was being jerked didn’t keep the green-eyed monster in his cage. Dawson wasn’t hot. He looked like a lumberjack with that scruff and those barn shoulders. Okay, he might be considered to have something. “How about I rearrange his pretty face for him?”
Lizzie snort laughed. “How did that work for you before?”
“Eh.” She had him there, but he didn’t have to concede “I play Karlov tomorrow, I mean today.”
“Oh.” She went quiet again. “I imagine that means you’re going to have a target on your back for most of the game.”
“I’m going to have a target on my back for the rest of the season, Lizzie.” He hated admitting this. “I screwed up and showed my weakness to the whole league. When I lose my temper, I become a liability to my team.”
“Sam,” she said it soft and sweet like he loved it. “You’re not a liability. You screwed up and it was a doozy, but you’re also responsible for a fair chunk of your team’s points this season.”
He wished it was that simple. “My mom called me today.”
“How are they?” Lizzie sounded more alert. “I had a text from mine a couple of days ago, but she didn’t say much.”
“They’re in Venice.” Sam could picture them there with their sun hats and enormous tote bags, still wrestling with the intricacies of smartphones. “Apparently it’s really pretty but smelly.”
“Has your mom broken out the Clorox yet?”
That is what made them so special. They knew crap about each other. “Of course she has. Except she has them in wipe form now, so they’re lighter and easier to travel with. She even has an on-the-go pack. You know, for those pesky germs that suddenly spring out at you.”
“They should have offered her shares in the company by now.” A slight pause. “Did she say how my mom was doing? You know with the divorce and all.”
“She didn’t, babe.” And he should have asked. “We don’t really talk about stuff like that. Mainly she wants to know if I’m eating right, how many injuries I have, and when I’m going to quit hockey?”
“Still?” An edge of anger laced Lizzie’s voice. “I thought she would have reconciled herself by now.”
“Nope.” His mom wanted to tuck him in cotton padding and keep him safe from the world. “But I did mention we were fucking.”
“Sam!”
He had to hold the phone away from his ear.
As tempting as it was to keep her dangling, he cut line. “Of course I didn’t do that but I sure got your attention.”
“And now you’re about to lose it.” She yawned. “Now that I know you’re okay, I can get some sleep.”
She had been worried about him and that made the center of his chest glow. “I’m good, Lizzie. I’ll call you after the game.”
“I get back from death by Leonard at around nine.”
“I remember.” So many things he wanted to say but the moment needed to be right. “Night, Lizzie. Dream of me.”
“Night, Sam.” She yawned again. “Actually I thought I’d dream about Dawson instead.”
Chapter 27
Elizabeth hadn’t heard from Sam since he’d sent her a brief text after the San Antonio game.
Even though Sam had played fine, the rest of the team imploded and went from the four-one lead to lose in overtime four-five.
Dad was in mourning and had been particularly grouchy in the office all of yesterday and today.
For the fifth time that day, he loomed over her desk and glowered. “Where are those quarterly reports I asked you for?”
“On your desk.” Lack of sleep several nights in a row stripped her patience. Leonard was channeling Satan and getting steadily worse as the performance date drew nearer. He had been calling her throughout the day. Then she’d waited up until two to hear from Sam and had fallen asleep with the television on.
He’d finally texted her this morning: Sorry about last night. Caught up here. Will call later.
It even annoyed her that he texted in curt sentences, like he couldn’t take the time to complete one.
A-a-and she needed to sleep. When she sounded like a grumpy old woman in her head, it was time to hit the sack.
Except Dad had other ideas. Five crept closer, and he showed no signs of letting her go for the day.
“Elizabeth,” he bellowed from his office. “Where on my desk?”
She damn well refused to get up and point out the reports, which she’d bet a limb were right under his nose. “Right hand side.”
