The Fifteenth Minute (26 page)

He grins. “I
never
wait here. I was just showing you the ropes. After the game I have a story to file. My editor reads ’em all to make sure I mention other players besides Rik.”

“But he had a goal and an assist tonight. It’s not like you can leave him out of the article.”

“See my problem?” He winks.

“What is taking so long, anyway?” I can’t wait for DJ to come out here so the celebrating can begin.

“They have to beat on their chests and dance around to ‘Centuries.’ These things take a while. Then there’s showering and slapping each other with towels. And words from Coach.”

“Huh.” I stand up on my tiptoes, but there are a lot of people between me and the door. I don’t see any players yet. Although one head of long red hair makes me do a double-take. I try to raise myself up even higher, but there’s only so much a short girl can do. Then a pair of hands grasps my ribcage and lifts me a few extra inches into the air. “Thanks,” I huff as Graham offers me a better look of the girl leaning against the wall outside the locker room.

Hosanna.

When Graham sets me down, I don’t know what to think. Who is she here to congratulate?

“Here they come,” Graham says.

Leo is the first one to emerge from the locker room, and Amy pops out of the scrum to take a flying leap at him. She then holds up traffic by trying to eat Leo’s face.

Lovely.

Rikker is the next to emerge, and he grins when he sees Graham waiting for him. “This is a surprise.”

Graham holds up his fist for a bump, but Rikker grabs Graham’s outstretched hand and pulls him into a headlock, then proceeds to give him a world-class noogie.

“Christ,” Graham complains, shaking his boyfriend off. “And you wonder why I don’t wait for you here in estrogen alley.”

Chuckling, Rikker heads for the door, and I see Graham pinch his ass as he follows him out.

That was cute. But where’s mine?

Other players begin to stream from the door, and I wait with a goofy smile on my face. The hallway begins to clear somewhat, giving me a better view of the door. None of the freshly showered heads that emerge are the one I’m waiting for. And then, finally, DJ emerges from the doorway, and he’s the only one with a big bag of equipment on his shoulder. “Sorry,” he says quickly to the girl closest to the door, because the bag nudges her in the chest.

That girl is Hosanna.

I watch while DJ does the same double-take as I did. “Hey,” he says, with an awkward wave.

“Hey,” she replies with a nervous smile. “Good game.”

“Thanks.” He moves forward with an uncertain look on his face.

Behind DJ, the injured freshman O’Hane emerges. His hair isn’t wet from the shower, and he looks a little bummed.

“There you are!” Hosanna says brightly.

Immediately O’Hane’s face lights up. “Hey! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He scoops her up into a hug.

“Careful of your shoulder,” she says immediately.

“Nah, it’s okay.”

I tear my eyes off this little surprise when DJ stops in front of me, a funny smile on his face. “Hi, smalls.”

The sight of him triggers my inner Amy. Springing forward, I wrap my arms around his neck. “Oh my God, that was fun to watch. You were awesome! Was it amazing? What did Leo say? Did you hear my playlist?”

Chuckling, DJ drops his bag and braces himself against my onslaught. “What’s with those sloppy fades in the first period?”

I punch him in the arm. “You asshole! I was in shock!”

“
Kidding
, smalls.” He backs me up against the wall and kisses me. “Thank you for the interesting musical selections at the end there. I loved it.”

“That was me cheering.”

“I know.” He kisses me again, and the slide of his lips against mine sends a ripple through my insides. Then he says, “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart,” and the ripple turns to a quake. I’d better stop making fun of puck bunnies. I think I just became one.

He grabs his giant bag and I skip along in front of him to get the door. “I want to hear everything! Did you even get to warm up? And do you think they’ll need you in the semi-finals?”

We emerge into the dark April night. “I had no prep time at all, but it was almost better that way. No expectations, you know? Just ‘Get in here, we need a warm body because O’Hane needs another night off and Bridger’s puking.’”

Ahead of us on the sidewalk are Hosanna and O’Hane, holding hands. I reach over and nudge DJ. “That’s a surprise.”

“Who knew, right?” He gives me a big smile with both dimples.

I wink. “Okay, I’m still not over this game, though. That assist blew my mind. Just…no hesitation!”

His smile is truly beautiful. “I think I’ll be remembering that when I’m old. Maybe it’s because I played with Leo my whole life, but I just
knew
he was going to flick the puck back to me like that. And I guess Rikker did too, because he got open.” He shakes his gorgeous head. “It was just
perfect
.”

I sigh. “It
was
. And I effed up the victory music because I was busy freaking out.”

“I didn’t even notice, because I was freaking out, too.”

We turn toward DJ’s house and walk half a block. But then he stops and turns to me. “Are you up for a party? Because I’m pretty sure that’s what we’ll find at my house. If you’re not, we can go to your place after I drop off this bag.”

I take his hand in mine. “We’ll just see. Maybe Bella will make me a margarita.”

DJ squeezes my hand. “Sounds like fun, but I’m cutting you off after one.”

“And why’s that?” I tease.

“Gonna need you sober later.”

My ripple becomes a shimmy, and I pick up our pace toward the house.

I
n Orsen’s
living room there is much rejoicing.

There’s music and dancing on the coffee table courtesy of Pepe. Alas, there are no margaritas. Bella is on a gin and tonic kick, and I’m not a fan. So sobriety is not an issue.

“Lianne! Come fight trolls with us!” Leo calls from across the living room.

Amy gives me a bitchy stare and I almost say yes just to teach her a lesson. But I’m not in the mood. These days, I rarely play DragonFire except with Leo. And we had a game just yesterday. “Another time!” I call. “You need the practice, anyway.”

He gives me the finger.

I love Leo, and now that DJ is less stressed out, we spend more time with him. I don’t know why, but he and DJ are sharing a beanbag chair right now. It’s a really cute picture, so I pull out my phone to get the shot. The phone opens to my email app, which makes me remember—for the first time in four hours—the email I received from my brother.

Only a wild night watching my boyfriend play hockey could have made me forget.

I take the picture and then walk over to ruffle DJ’s hair. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

He looks up immediately. “Sure, smalls. Hang on.” He struggles out of the beanbag and follows me to his room, where I sit on the bed. Playfully, he pushes me back onto the mattress. “So. Is
talking
code for something else?” He kisses my ear.

“Not in this case. Although you can feel free to hold that thought for just a few minutes.”

He gives me a wicked grin and rolls onto his back, tucking both his arms behind his head. “Okay. Then what’s on your mind?”

But now I’m distracted because his shirt rides up to reveal a nasty scratch on his belly. I lift the shirt and see red skin and the beginnings of bruising. Everywhere. “What happened?”

He pulls the shirt down. “That’s just payment for all the fun I had tonight. Boston wanted it bad. If they ask me to fill in again, I might borrow some newer pads.”

“Are they going to?” That’s an exciting idea.

“No idea. Depends on everybody’s injuries and the risks that coach chooses to take.” He gives me a tired shrug. “I’m not even going to worry about it. It was great to be asked, and even better to play. Tonight was like a victory for the short people of the world. I’m just happy I got to do it. I’m a pretty lucky guy these days.” He gives me a sexy wink.

Aw
. “Does this hurt?” I lay a hand gently onto his abs.

“Not there.” He gives my hand a little shove down his belly. “
Lower
, baby.” When I roll my eyes, he grabs my hand and kisses it. “Really, I’m fine. Let’s talk about your thing.”

Right
. “My thing is that I got an email from my brother Rick today, inviting me to lunch.”

His eyes widen and he sits up on his elbows. “Smalls, I gotta tell you—”

I silence him with a raised hand. “It’s okay. I know you wrote to him.”

“I’m sorry I went behind your back. That was nosy, but I couldn’t figure out another way to feel him out.”

“I get it.” I pat his chest gently, mindful of the bruises. “I know exactly why you did it. It was actually a really
kind
thing to do.”

He catches my hand, covering it with his larger one. “It was supposed to be. I’m glad he answered you. Are you going to meet him?”

“Definitely. It was a really nice note. Do you think you could come along, too? I mean, if it’s not at a bad time…”

“Of course I will. Already told you that, smalls. I’ll go anywhere you lead me.”

His smile and those big brown eyes, they just break my heart. “Listen, I’m worried about one thing.” I put my free hand on his cheek. “If you play any more games, isn’t there a pad you could put over your dimples?” I put my thumb right there in its favorite place, feeling his evening whiskers tickle my finger. “Don’t hurt the dimples.”

He pulls me down onto his chest. “You got it bad, babe.”

I really do.

His kiss is soft, and I sink into it, still mindful of his midsection. “Is there anything I should kiss to make it better?”

“Um…” He laughs and kisses me again. “I can think of a few places.”

“Funny, so can I.” I kiss down the side of his face and into his neck. He smells like soap and DJ.

With a happy groan, he tightens his grip on my body, pulling my hips against his.

Life is good. And getting better all the time.

W
hen my phone rings
, we’re in the back of another limo sliding through Midtown.

Just like last time, Lianne is looking nervous. She’s fidgeting and shifting in her seat.

So I don’t answer the call. But I get a text anyway. It’s from Leo.
Be at practice today, bro! We need you again! Four o’clock.

Jesus H. It’s noon and I’m ninety minutes away. But if this lunch doesn’t go too long…

“DJ?” Lianne says suddenly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Forgetting about Leo, I slide across the leather seat to her. “Hit me, smalls. What is it?”

She pulls an envelope out of her bag. “This is a rider that Bob wanted to put on my contract with the Sentry Sorcerer people. It’s a nudity clause. They want me to do a sex scene. Does that freak you out?”

“Um…what?” There’s a topic of conversation I never saw coming. Then again, I never dated anyone who showed up every eighteen months or so on movie screens all over the world. “Do you want to do it? It’s your career, smalls. I’m never going to tell you what to do.”

“I don’t want to do it.”

“Okay. Are you thinking your brother can help you figure out your options?”

“That would be nice.” She sighs. “God, I’m
so
nervous.”

Why?
I stop myself from asking. It’s hard for me to comprehend the fact that Lianne’s family hasn’t really been there for her and how sharply that must sting.

I spent the better part of a year feeling like the most unlucky guy in the world. But now I know better.

My arm slides around her back. “This is going to be fine,” I say, hoping I’m right. And if I’m not, I’ll ply her with dessert, music trivia, words of encouragement and sex until she smiles again. Lianne is a buoyant personality, and I know she’d do the same for me.

It’s good, this thing we’ve got. Really good.

The car slides to a stop in front of a restaurant called Lexington Brass in Midtown. The name sounds stuffy, but when we step into the place, it’s brighter and more relaxed than I’d imagined, even if some of the clientele are dressed in suits. There are a couple of people checking in ahead of us, so we’ll need to wait a moment.

“This is nice.” When I’d read the menu on my phone, it said something about buttermilk-fried chicken. So now I’m ready to chew off my own arm.

The hostess’s eyes open wide when Lianne steps forward to give her brother’s name.

“Wow. Right this way Miss Challice.”

I whisper into her ear. “That’s him, isn’t it?” She leads us toward a man seated in the center of the room beside a woman who might be his girlfriend. He looks a little like Lianne. He has her same clever eyes.

“Yeah,” she breathes. “I think I might puke.”

“Really?”

“No,” she says quickly. “But this is weird. It’s kind of
Little Orphan Annie
meets her folks. But without the red wig.”

“Aw. The sun will come out tomorrow.”

She looks up in surprise. “You know
Annie?
And yet you keep your man card?”

“I have a little sister, thank you very much. And I know music. Duh.”

“Duh,” she echoes, and we share a smile.

We reach the table, and Lianne’s brother stands up. “Hi,” he says, his voice soft. Then he surprises us both by hugging Lianne. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Okay, I might be able to like this dude after all. Maybe.

“It’s okay,” Lianne says, her voice wobbling.

And now heads are starting to turn our direction, and I see a couple onlookers nudge each other in recognition.

“Excuse me,” I say to the hostess, who’s hovering until we sit down. “This table is just a little too public. Is there any way you could put us in a corner somewhere?”

“Oh! I think I could do that.” She looks around quickly. “Do you mind being in the back room?”

“We love being in the back room,” I say truthfully. I’ve gotten better at figuring out how to eat out with Lianne without encouraging interruption. The details are everything. “Do you mind?” I ask her brother. “Sorry to make it complicated.”

“Not at all,” he says quickly. “I should have realized.”

We follow the hostess around a corner to a table in a quieter section of the restaurant. Lianne and I are seated on a banquette side by side, with her brother and his girlfriend Mary opposite. After a round of handshakes, and placing orders for drinks, it’s finally quiet. We’re reading our menus when Mary speaks up.

“Thanks for nudging him,” she says. “This is fun, and I’ve always wondered why we never saw you.”

“Well, it’s nobody’s fault,” Lianne says. “Except my mother’s, maybe. She never told me you always call her around the holidays.”

Rick shrugs. “She’s a tough cookie. This past season I didn’t manage to catch her. So it was more of a holiday voicemail. And I don’t even know if our wedding invitation reached you.”

Lianne sits back. “No. Of course not. I’m going to kill her. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Mary beams. “We’ll send you another one. It’s next fall on Cape Cod.”

“Sounds pretty.” She clears her throat a little self-consciously. “You must think it’s weird that DJ wrote to you. But I didn’t know what to do, and I was all pissed off at Bob and not thinking clearly.”

“Sorry to hear that,” her brother says. “But I didn’t mind getting a letter from DJ. Calling would have been quicker, though. Because I travel a lot.”

“I’ll remember that for next time,” I joke, finding Lianne’s hand under the table.

She squeezes it. “I’m truly done with Bob. He isn’t good to me, except on payday.”

Rick flinches. “Sorry. Then I hope you’ll look elsewhere for help. If you’re not comfortable at my firm, I’ll send you to a friend.”

Lianne gives me a little sideways smile. “Well, that’s easy. Can you just…take over? Or assign someone to do it? There’s a part I want and I don’t think Bob has even called them. He keeps stringing me along.”

Our drinks arrive, and Rick takes a sip of his beer. “What’s the part? I might know if it’s been cast yet.”

“Well…” Lianne looks self-conscious. “I really want Lady M in Jared Swanson’s production of the Scottish play.”

“Ah,” Rick says. “Good pick.”

“I did Juliet at the Public Theater this winter,” Lianne says in a rush. “And I’ve been working really hard on the script. All I want is a meeting. I think I can sell it.”

Rick lets out a breath. “I will make any phone call you want me to. But I can’t say your odds are good. Sure hate saying so, though.”

Lianne pales. “Damn. Is it already cast?”

“No and yes,” he says. “I will call this afternoon and ask all the questions I can. But the problem is the male lead is cast. He’s going to be played by Dermott DeAgostino. You know of him? British guy but he looks Italian?”

“Oh,
hell
,” Lianne swears, tipping her head back against the wall behind us. “I never had a chance.”

“Why?” I ask. I must be two steps behind, because her disappointment doesn’t make sense to me.

Lianne turns in her seat and puts a hand to my chest. “Thank you for reading the Scottish play out loud with me ten times. I don’t regret it, because it was so much fun, but I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

“Why?” I ask again.

“Dermott DeAgostino,” she says, and now her lips twitch. “He’s…” She heaves a sigh.

“Six-foot-five,” her brother finishes.

“Oh,” I say slowly. I think I understand. “They wouldn’t match you two together?”

“No.” Lianne shakes her head. I can see her trying to hold it together.

Damn it. I wrap an arm around her back and pull her in. “Sorry, baby. You’ll get the next one.” But after how hard she’s worked, that’s inadequately comforting. Lianne’s back heaves under my hand, and my heart breaks for her. “Shh,” I say uselessly.

But it shakes harder, and I realize she’s
laughing
. No, it’s more than that. She’s been seized by a giggle. “Omigod, Deej,” she gasps. “It’s not a good day for the short people of the world.”

I feel a bark of laughter contract my stomach. Her silliness is kind of contagious. It never occurred to me that Lianne and I could have the same disappointments. I thought it was only men who had to be super-sized.

Now I’m laughing, too.

She presses her forehead to my shoulder and giggles into my shirt. “We read that play
so
many times. ‘Let this pernicious hour stand aye accursed in the calendar!’”

“No!” I argue. “Lay it to thy heart, and farewell.”

Lianne snorts, and we have to laugh some more. We are ridiculous. But then I have an ugly thought. “Do you think this happened because you said his name that time when we were arguing? I don’t want this to be my fault.”

“No way,” she gasps. “Whatever.”

“Whatever.” I kiss the top of her head.

Lianne’s brother is watching us with fascination. “I’ll still call the director. Just in case.”

She wipes her eyes with her napkin. “I appreciate it. But I’ll live to fight another day either way. There has to be another juicy part out there for someone who wants to get out of sorcery.”

“Oh, I can think of a dozen things,” Rick says. “And if your goal is to do something more serious, you can probably hold out for just the right thing. Especially if you want to finish school, right? Seems like the perfect time to be picky.”

Lianne takes a deep breath. “Thank you for saying that. I’m not used to people listening to me. Except DJ.” She slides out of the booth. “I’m going to fix my face. Be right back.”

She slips away toward the back, and I watch her go. Even after a disappointment, there’s a bounce in her step. The girl just kills me. I love her so hard.

“Is Bob really awful?” Rick asks in a low voice. “One of the reasons I let Lianne’s mom keep me away is that I didn’t want anyone to think that I was after a cut of Lianne’s star power.”

I take a drink of my soda so I don’t have to answer immediately. “You should tell her that,” I say after thinking it over. “She thinks you don’t care.”

“Shit.” He takes a swig of beer. “She was only eleven when our dad died, and she lived on another continent. There wasn’t much chance of me being involved.”

Mary puts a hand on his arm. “But now’s your chance.”

“She needs your help,” I say, in case he hasn’t already taken the hint. “And Bob is awful, since you asked. She hung on too long because he knew stories about your father.”

Rick looks thoughtful. “I know a few of those, too. They’re not all good, though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I insist. “She’d like to hear them.”

“Have you two been together a long time?” Mary asks.

The question makes me chuckle. “Not exactly. Three or four months, depending how you count. But it’s been a really tough few months for both of us. Like dog years. But we’re hanging in there.” It’s true, too—I feel like I’ve been close to Lianne for years. And I plan to be.

“I like the way you stick up for her,” Mary says.

“Who wouldn’t stick up for her?” I ask. Lianne appears again, and when she reaches the table I raise my arm to let her slide in next to me.

Then a waitress appears and asks to take our order. “I’ll go last,” Lianne says, scanning the menu. “I can choose quickly.”

I let Mary and Rick order first.

“I’ll have the fried chicken,” I say, passing my menu to the waitress. “And it comes with some kind of fancy mac and cheese?”

The waitress winks. “You don’t want to miss it.”

“I’ll have the salmon salad,” Lianne says, handing the menu over.

“Excuse me,” I say before the waitress can walk away. “Could I have a side of mac and cheese?”

She frowns. “You have one coming already?”

“Yes, but I believe I need a second one.”

“Yessir,” she says, turning away.

“That’s for me, isn’t it?” Lianne asks, reaching for her Diet Coke.

“Uh huh. I’m happy to share with you, but only up to a point.”

She looks up at Mary. “I just started eating carbs again. And sometimes I get a little frenzied.”

Rick laughs. “I dragged you all the way to the city for lunch. Seems as good a time as any to indulge.”

“Good point.” Lianne relaxes against me. “Now let’s hear all about your wedding.”

T
wo hours later
, we are cuddling in the back of Reggie’s limo on the way back to Harkness. Lianne is talking to me, telling me her plans.

I’m kissing her neck.

“—And then maybe something by an independent director. Somebody who takes risks.”

“Mmm hmm.” I kiss the spot just under her ear.

“Are you listening?”

“Yup. Independent director. Taking risks.” I suck her earlobe into my mouth, and she melts against me.

“That is so distracting.”

“Mmm hmm.” I skim the shell of her ear with my lips.

“Deej,” she whispers, shivering. “What are you doing?”

“Just celebrating. A little bit.”

“We can’t…in the back of Reggie’s car.” She moves a little closer anyway.

“M’kay. But we can pre-party.”

“Pre-party?”

“You know—loosen up. Do some stretches.”

She giggles. “And then when we get home…”

“Nope,” I tell her. “Break time, then. I have to go to hockey practice.”

She lifts her head. “You do? Really?”

“Yeah. I got the text just as we were heading into the restaurant. I don’t know what it all means. Maybe they won’t need me this weekend, but I’m happy to show up and work out with them.”

Lianne is practically bouncing on the seat now. “That’s awesome. Should I buy tickets to the finals at Lake Placid?” She whips out her phone.

“Don’t jinx me,” I say quickly. “Can you wait?”

She looks up. “Wow, really? You’re superstitious? You told me you weren’t. On that first night we walked back from the rink.”

I hesitate. “Not
often
.”

Lianne explodes with laughter. “Omigod, seriously? How is that different from not saying the name of the Scottish play?”

Busted
. “Okay, fine. It’s the same thing. I’m a hypocrite.”

“You’re the best one, though.” She crawls in my lap and kisses me.

And I realize I don’t need to play in any more games. I already won the only one that matters.