“Holy shit.” I breathe, staring at the all- out brawl happening on the ice.

Kaija and I look at each other in disbelief, looking around at the cheering, rowdy fans and back at the group of grown ass men acting like they’re in the bar fight of their lives.

One second, we got off a shot and scored as the game ended…the next, chaos.

Shit moves way too quickly for me to keep up sometimes.

“I go to get one drink and they lose their minds?” Mickey holds a beer in her hand, mouth gaping.

Fights? Sure. FULL TEAM BRAWLS??! That’s a whole different ball game I haven’t seen.

The refs are trying to settle everyone and pull them apart, but they’re having a hard time and I feel bad for them. Hockey players are tough fuckers.

“This is old-time hockey right here. Bench clearing brawls? Rare now.” A man behind us in a New York Kings hat, a dark tee and a navy blue jacket speaks up, nodding at the glass. “The good stuff.”

I beg to differ, I hate seeing the guys fight. Especially because I know them, that makes it even worse.

Goddamn hockey.

It’s not the first fight of the game, but it’s definitely the craziest. Whistles are blowing everywhere and MSG is basically shaking with how loud the fans are being.

I can’t see where our boys are in the fray, just glimpses here and there but I send up a little prayer that they keep everything intact.

“You look real worried, girlie. One of those your beau?” I’d forgotten about the man and I glance up and to the side again, not really caring for the tone of his voice. He’s also giving me creeper vibes, and I can’t fully see his eyes under the brim of his cap.

“Friends.” I murmur back, sliding a little closer to Mickey and Kaija. They’ve moved a little further down to see.

The man either doesn’t take the hint or is oblivious and sticks his hands in his pocket, raising his voice a little more.

“My son’s down there.” He tips his chin to the ice, his mouth doing something that doesn’t quite look like a smile. “#62”

“That’s really nice.” The words fly out of my mouth automatically, politely. Then I realize whose number he’s said.

That’s the number on Dane’s jersey.

I look back at the ice where everyone’s breaking up and heading towards the locker rooms, and when I glance back, the man is already exiting his aisle.

I don’t know what to think.

Dane told me his father was dead.

* * *

“Next round’s on me!” Everyone cheers and Leo takes drink orders and heads to the bar with Harlan.

A few of the other players are scattered around Pour House, playing pool and celebrating their win.

I can’t stop thinking about that man.

Just because he said it, doesn’t mean it’s true.

I, of all people, know that.

“You’re quiet. Not thinking about work, are you?” Kaija hands me a peach brew and it’s the only one I drink. Perks of your sister owning the bar, she even keeps your obscure favorites around.

“Work? Why would I think about work? I’m not allowed back there.” I scoff, and she laughs, though I’m not amused.

“Dad told us he was going to do it. We knew if anyone asked you to leave or gave you a heads up, you would’ve given even more push-back.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, leaning her elbows on the table. “You deserve a very extended vacation.”

“What if I don’t want a very extended vacation?” Luckily I already got all of my more volatile emotions out and I don’t feel any more tears welling up. Today was the first time I truly cried in…well…almost ever.

“Personally, I think you should open a bakery.” Harlan comes up, setting a tray of drinks down on the table and kissing Kaija on the cheek. “Those snickerdoodles you gave Dane? Melted in my mouth.”

“Baking is my fun activity.” I wrinkle my nose, shaking my head. “If I make it into something I do all the time and for profit, it becomes more stressful.”

“So what are you thinking? You could travel…you could have a wild, passionate fling…you could join a nudist colony and be free 24/7…” I purse my lips. Kaija’s face is actually serious like those are viable options for this forced vacation.

I don’t do wild.

“Wild just means reckless. I don’t do reckless. I was looking for a few openings today wi—.”

“Bitch.” Kaija slams down her drink and I blink hard, taken aback. “You are not taking another job. Fucking relax!”

“Your language is rude.” I sniff, taking a sip of my beer and sighing. I groan and lay my forehead on the table. “I just want to work, why is that so bad? What’s wrong with wanting to be doing something?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it when you can separate yourself from it. Honestly, Keyra, I think it’s become a crutch. A way for you to have an excuse for not devoting time to anything else because you’re so busy with everyone else.” My sister’s voice is matter-of-fact. She’s got it all figured out, this one.

“You go and get into one great relationship and now you want to nitpick my life?”

“You’ve been nitpicking my life for years.” She shoots back, shaking her head. “I’m nitpicking because work doesn’t keep you warm at night, and neither does Michael.”

“That’s the exact reason heaters and blankets were invented.” I deadpan, my eyes moving over everyone and finding Dane’s dark head at the edge of the room.

“I think it’s hella weird that Michael is basically Casper. Why haven’t I met him and Dane has?”

“Dane meeting him was a coincidence.” I murmur, distracted. Looks like Dane’s found his next one-night stand.

She’s a curly-haired brunette who used a little too much self-tanner. It’s winter, lady. Nobodies natural tan is that good unless you were born with it.

Well shit.

I blink. Damn, I’m usually not so bitchy. Towards women I don’t know, that is.

Everyone else is free game.

Kai told me before that Dane used to be much more reserved and didn’t care for hookups, but in the past few months, I guess something’s changed.

I tear my eyes away from the cozy pair, ignoring the pang it sends through me.

That would be a reckless decision. He’s too close to everything, there are too many ways we could go wrong and then everyone would take sides. That’s not something I’m willing to put into motion.

I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and pull it out, putting up a finger to Kaija before she can berate me again. “It’s Michael.”

“Ask him if he prefers being called secretive or full-of-shit.” I shoot her my middle finger as I walk away towards the bathrooms for a little more quiet.

“Hey, I thought y—.”

“Where are you right now?” He cuts me off, and I pull back for a second, staring at the phone.

“I know you’re not using a tone with me.” I keep my voice cool. I don’t know what type of relationship he thinks we have, but it’s not one where I allow disrespect.

“I apologize.” He says stiffly. “I am simply wondering why I’m sitting in a hotel room alone.”

“We didn’t have plans tonight. I told you I was going to see the guys’ game.” I lean against the wall, moving aside for a woman walking by.

“And I told you that I’m going out of town in two days and this would be the only night I’d be able to see you. Was I wrong in assuming you’d prioritize?”

I would prioritize? That’s rich when I have to call his assistant and be penciled into his day to get a second of his time.

From the beginning, he was clear that his schedule was hectic - and I understood that.

I’m the type of person who makes time for things I care about, but I understand that it doesn’t always work like that for everyone.

For him to give me a line about prioritizing, it sets the tone for the rest of the conversation as far as I’m concerned.

“You were wrong in assuming, yes. There’s an easy way to avoid assumptions. You ask.” I snort. Not very lady-like, but oh well.

“You seem to always have time for that male friend of yours.”

“I make time for everyone. Is this the argument you’d like to have right now? Please, pick a fight with me the same day I have the rug pulled out from under me about what I’ll be doing for the next six months.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re acting out. I didn’t respond to your message.”

Acting out?

I wish he were here right now so I could look him in his smug face.

But this is better.

“Call me back when you remember you’re dating a grown woman and not an unruly child.” I hang up the phone and turn my ringer off, in disbelief.

Un-fucking-believable.