Page 42 of Over the Line

Shit. That was something, wasn’t it? There was going to come a time in the very near future when I wasn’t playing anymore. Who was I going to hang out with? When I’d been injured and hadn’t been traveling with the team, I’d climbed the walls needing some social interaction. During their ten-day road trip, I’d gone out to eat and gone to the grocery store more than necessary just for some human contact.

What happened when I wasn’t on the team anymore at all?

Well, that was a depressing train of thought, wasn’t it?

Oblivious to this funk I couldn’t shake myself out of, Garrett replied to my text.

I mean, the rest of us get our entertainment by watching you do your job. If you need something to entertain you, I can send you videos of me typing on my laptop.

Like close up on your fingers? Or a wide shot?

Hockey games have multiple cameras. I’m sure I could improvise the same.

I actually snorted. The thought of him typing away under studio lights and giving the camera saucy winks was hilarious.

The commentary would be pretty funny.

Especially if it’s full of as much innuendo as hockey commentary.

OH MY GOD RIGHT? Like do they HEAR themselves?

So it’s not just my mind always being in the gutter?

mine’s always in the gutter too but those guys are something else.

Seriously. One said the other night that “the Wings are coming all over the Ice Foxes.” SIR THEY’RE WHAT?

hahaha omg yes. And how they’re always talking about us “rimming around the end” or “slipping in the back door.”

Do they know what they’re saying? Or are they that oblivious?

I think most are that oblivious. There’s one on the west coast who definitely knows though.

Oh really?

Yep. He says the same shit they all say, but there’s just something about his tone. He KNOWS.

Okay I need to watch one of their broadcasts.

You should. They’re hilarious.

I was chuckling as we texted, and I had to admit, this exchange was helping my funk. I still didn’t feel great, but snickering about ridiculous commentators lightened my mood. Shame we couldn’t do this in person. That would probably be a lot of fun.

My thought gave me pause.

It would be a lot of fun. And I’d get to shamelessly ogle him while we bantered and laughed. Maybe even test the water and flirt a little. That always seemed safer when I could read body language.

Well, except he was straight and all, but whatever. He was clearly bored tonight if he was spending his time shooting the shit with me about hockey commentators.

Finally, I decided to just go for broke.

Well neither of us is doing anything tonight besides texting. Any chance you want to grab a drink?

My heart slammed into my ribs. Fuck, that was a bad idea. I didn’t even know which was worse—if he was put off by it because, no, he didn’t want to get a drink with his son’s captain, or if he took me up on it.

A drink sounds great. You know Pittsburgh better than I do. Where do you have in mind?

I had to think about that for a moment. Or, well, I had to think about how to word my answer. Because there was really only one option right now.