junk when you’re out there playing your heart out, but damn. It’s one thing to give it your all and fail. It’s quite another to not even try.”
“Well, if anyone can improve their attitude, it’s you. That’s what you’re there for, right?”
Daniel snorted. “Yeah, but I think you might be a little biased, buddy.”
“Nope,” Tristan said, earnest as always. “You and I both know there are people whose mere presence makes a whole team better. You feel the lack of them in the locker room when they’re gone, trust me. It’s like we’ve lost a family member, not having you here. Some skates aren’t so easy to fill.”
“Holtzy...” Daniel rubbed the back of his flushed neck and huffed a quiet laugh. “You sure know how to compliment a guy. Thank you.” If his voice was rough, well, hockey was an emotional sport, and Tristan would be the last person to ever give him shit for getting sentimental. Daniel might’ve left the Venom of his own volition, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss his boys, and this player in particular.
“I only speak the truth.” Tristan nodded sagely. “What else are you up to? Still texting that old friend of yours? The dolphin guy?”
“Micah.” The thought of his childhood pal put a grin on Daniel’s face. They’d spent so much time together as kids, he might’ve called Micah a brother had it not been for the enduring crush he’d nursed from about fourth grade until he moved away before high school. Hell, it’d probably started even earlier, if Daniel were being honest. He remembered declaring he would marry Micah someday, way back in kindergarten. Five-year-old Micah had told him he needed to be taller first. “Yeah, we’ve been texting here and there. He wants me to come down to the aquarium for a tour sometime.”
“You should go. If your teammates can’t get over themselves, maybe hanging out with some non-hockey people will do you good. I know it doesn’t feel like it sometimes, but there’s more to life than this game. I’m glad I have Seb to remind me of that when I need it.”
“You’re right.” Daniel grabbed the pan of ground turkey and started scooping it into the big bowl of rehydrated cabbage, sweet potatoes, bananas, and apples. “How is everyone else? Ryu? Morley? He hasn’t texted me since last weekend, and I think he was wasted at the time because the messages didn’t make any sense whatsoever.”
The sound that came out of Tristan was somewhere between a cough and a wheeze. “Oh man. Yeah, that night. I remember. We were all out at the rooftop bar again—that’s where it started, anyway—and...just... I swear, this is the kind of crap that only ever happens to Trevor Morley.”
Daniel laughed, already anticipating the shenanigans. Morley rarely disappointed in that department. “Well, come on, then,” he said as he got to stirring the food. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
* * *
After nearly an hour on the phone with Tristan and another fifteen minutes cleaning up the kitchen, Daniel found a rag and a bottle of furniture polish and got to dusting. By noon, every surface in the house gleamed. He took the dogs out into the yard for a few rounds of fetch, but not even spending time with his best pals helped with the bored, restless feeling that had taken residence in his gut as soon as he and Tristan ended their chat.
Exercise was an option, but the idea of forcing himself onto a treadmill or lifting weights held no appeal. He could call Gretchen and Nathaniel, but it was their weekend with Tabby, and while he knew they’d welcome him, he respected the boundaries and routines they’d established since Tabby officially moved to Florida in mid-October. She’d found a job with an investment firm in downtown Miami and rented a nice little house only a few miles from where Daniel now lived, but he didn’t equate the proximity to an open invitation to stop by whenever he got bored. If—when—she started dating again, he couldn’t be popping in all the time. She deserved her privacy, and he needed to learn how to fill the empty days when his kids were gone.
Daniel slumped onto the couch with his phone in hand and was immediately surrounded by warm, furry bodies. He absently stroked Tallulah’s boxy, brown head while scrolling through his recent text messages. Without really thinking about it, he opened Instagram and pulled up the aquarium’s profile, liking the recent #selfiewithsilver posts.
Daniel