Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,86
to the team and maybe retire from there next year.” Clarke sat back when the server returned and set a tumbler of whiskey in front of him. He thanked her and waited until she’d given Daniel his beer before continuing. “I also spoke to the GM of the Reign, and I think we could pursue something there, too. Maybe even a two-to three-year contract, if we play our cards right.”
Daniel mulled it over as he took a long sip from his glass. So now he had three possibilities if he wanted to stay in the NHL. His brain rebelled at the idea of Seattle already. It was a long trip between Florida and Washington State. Or he could go back to the team of his heart for one last hurrah, which was tempting, but maybe not as much as he would’ve expected it to be. He missed his old teammates fiercely sometimes, but they’d moved on without him and the dynamic in their dressing room had doubtless changed over the course of the season. Even if he did go back, it wouldn’t be exactly the same as it had been.
“You don’t have long to let me know what you want to do,” Clarke said, “but you do have some time to evaluate your options. Just try not to delay any more than possible. Once the deadline passes in ten days, we won’t be able to reassess or make any moves until the off-season.”
Daniel made a thoughtful sound. “Yeah.”
“Are you leaning in any particular direction right now?”
“Not really. There are conversations that need to be had before I decide anything for sure.”
Daniel was grateful to even have options when he’d walked into that conference room earlier fearing he had nothing—but the problem was, none of them felt right on an instinctive level. Not the way the offer from the Thunder had last summer.
Then again, look how that had turned out?
Daniel cringed and chugged down the rest of his beer. He definitely had some soul-searching to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Micah sang along with his favorite Spotify playlist, putting the finishing touches on dinner and glancing at the clock as he slid the cookie sheet with the bread out of the oven. Dinner was a simple pasta primavera with some ready-to-bake garlic bread. But he’d been at work late and this was a quick and easy dinner, and Daniel had sounded odd on the phone when he’d called to see if Micah was free tonight.
Odd enough that Micah’s stomach tightened unpleasantly and his heart raced in his chest when he thought too hard about it. It couldn’t be that Daniel wanted to break up, he knew that logically, but sometimes emotions weren’t logical, and honestly, if he was dumped by the love of his life over pasta primavera that was going to make for one depressing story...and one meal he was never going to eat again.
Stop it, Micah chided himself. You’re being ridiculous. He put the garlic bread in a basket and set it on the table, then poured a glass of wine and sipped it while he waited for Daniel to show up. Daniel had a meeting with his agent and the team, and that was probably what he wanted to talk about—and from the tone of his voice when he’d called, it hadn’t gone well. That didn’t exactly make the butterflies in Micah’s stomach flutter any less, though.
He heard his door open and Daniel call out, “Hey, I’m here,” and took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair for a moment before going to greet Daniel. It would be okay. Whatever happened, they’d face it. Together.
“Hey, there.” Micah went into the living room and smiled, reaching out to draw Daniel into a quick hug. He rubbed a hand over Daniel’s back. “Dinner’s almost ready, you want some wine?”
“I’d love some.” Daniel smiled at him, and it was slightly less dimpled than usual but it was still a smile. Although he had reddened eyes, and that—more than anything—made the butterflies turn into jet planes in Micah’s stomach. “Been a weird day.” Instead of letting Micah get him his wine, however, Daniel pulled him in for another hug.
Micah hugged him back, quiet, until Daniel let him go. “Well, wine’ll help,” he said, trying for a smile. “C’mon.”
He poured Daniel his wine and topped off his own. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“They’re not signing me next year. On the Thunder.”
Micah’s stomach dropped. “Oh.” Of all the things he worried about, for some reason,