Page 42 of Cross the Line

I laughed, sensing she needed a distraction. “Okay, little elf. But you know I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks,” she said. “But right now, I just want to enjoy the holidays.”

I hated feeling so far away from my friends. If I’d been in the same city, I could’ve popped by, kept her company, tried to get a feel for how she was really doing. But I was across the country… I sighed. Sometimes I wondered if I knew what was really going on with my friends. I worried they were putting on a brave face for me, acting as if everything was okay when it wasn’t.

“What’s that about?” she asked.

“I’m worried about you. All of you. And I hate being so far away.” I perked up, remembering the call I’d received earlier in the day. “Are you going to be around this summer?”

“I don’t know…” she hedged. “I want to be here for Bryn and the baby, but I need a change of scenery. Cece reached out to see if I’d travel with her for the summer to do her hair and makeup while she is on her promo tour, and I said yes.”

“That’s amazing, G! You are going to have so much fun together.”

“Right?” I could hear the smile in her voice, and my shoulders relaxed slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…I have an opportunity for the off-season that would require me to be in LA this summer.”

“What?” she squealed. “What is it?”

The PWHL and NHL wanted to team up, and I gave her a quick overview of what they were hoping to accomplish and how I would fit into their plan.

“Oh my god,” she said once I’d finished. “That would be amazing. Are you considering it?”

“Yeah.” I was definitely tempted to say yes. I was just trying to make sure I would be accepting it for the right reasons. For reasons that didn’t have to do with the fact that it would mean spending more time with Carson.

Georgia was quiet a moment. “Hey. If you take it, you should stay at my place.”

“What?” I jerked my head back.

“Yeah,” she said, and I could imagine her growing more animated along with her words. “That would be perfect. You could house-sit for me, and then you wouldn’t have to deal with finding a temporary place to live.”

That would be convenient since her place was close to the rink, and the Hawks had agreed to let me utilize their practice facilities for the summer. Since Georgia’s building was owned by the team owner, Atlas Rawlings, a lot of the guys from the team lived there at a discounted rent. Including Carson.

“I—” I didn’t know what to say. It almost felt too easy. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely. And then when I do come home between trips with Cece, we can hang out.”

“I’d love that. And I so appreciate the offer. Can I let you know once I’ve decided whether to take the position?” Though I was pretty sure I was going to take it. I’d be crazy not to.

“For sure.”

Everything was falling into place. Which meant one thing: it was time to have an honest conversation with my brother.

“Good game, boys,” Coach said. “Now, go shake some hands because we have a plane to catch, and my husband will kill me if I don’t make it home in time for Christmas.”

We all chuckled, skating off to center ice where we shook hands with the other team as we proceeded down the line. In previous years, teams in the league had only performed this tradition during the postseason. But thanks to the advisory board on culture, players would now shake hands after every regular season game as well.

There had been mixed opinions on this shift, especially among fans. I thought that anything that encouraged professionalism, respect, and good sportsmanship was a good thing.

Did I enjoy shaking an opponent’s hand after a loss? Not particularly. But I also knew that being a gracious loser was just as important as being a gracious winner.

Handshakes weren’t the only changes the culture board had suggested recently. Behind the scenes, we’d convinced Tampa Bay to have the architectural firm for their new arena redo the mock-ups to include women. It was unbelievable to me that all of their renderings had only included men. As if women didn’t attend games or weren’t fans.

We’d also been pushing for the league to take a much stronger stance against domestic violence and sexual assault. We wanted the league to do more than sanction the behavior, we wanted them to ban offenders. We wanted them to help survivors. And we wanted them to educate about enthusiastic consent at all levels of the game—juniors to professional.

With the handshakes complete, we skated off the ice. My teammates were loud as we shuffled down the hallway to the visitors’ locker room. We’d won the game, and our celly song blared through the space. Everyone was on a high from the game and excited about the upcoming holiday. The league had a mandated three-day break over Christmas, and I was looking forward to some time off.

“Good job out there tonight,” Coach said, addressing the team. “We’ll debrief more after the holidays.”