He smacks my shoulder, turning down the hall again.
“Are you trading me if we lose tonight?” I call out.
He laughs so loudly it echoes off the empty hallway walls.
“Hell no. I’ve got the best point guard in the league. Hell, maybe the best point guard the game has ever seen and he’s on my payroll. You think I’m giving that up? Not to mention, you’re kind of growing on me, kid.”
As I stay silent, Ron eyes me curiously before continuing.
“This probably isn’t what any profitable General Manager would say, but I’m not worried about the scoreboard. I want guys that want to be here. That enjoy their teammates. I want the rest of the league to look at the Chicago Devils organization and wonder how they could get traded here because the guys who play for me love their jobs. That is what’s going to win us a championship. That is what’s going to make us successful, and Shay, for the first time in five years, I think you might love your job.”
“I do, sir.”
“Good.”
He lingers as if I have something else to say and maybe I do. Maybe there’s something about this utter honesty thing.
“Can I tell you something that might make you change your mind and trade me?”
He chuckles. “Shoot.”
“Indy wasn’t my girlfriend when I first told you about her. We pretended to be a couple to convince you that I had softened up enough to be the kind of captain you wanted me to be. I completely lied to your face.”
Ron’s expression turns cold and stoic.
“She was just my sister’s best friend who moved in because I had an extra room.”
Ron’s serious face melts into a smile which morphs into uncontrollable belly laughs.
“No way!” He holds a hand to his chest. “Caroline was right all along! God, I’m going to hear so many ‘I told you so’s’ tonight when I get home.”
“Sir?”
“My wife, she knew you two were full of shit as soon as she saw you at the fall banquet together. On the other hand, you had me convinced. The only reason I had any doubts was because she was chirping in my ear.”
“She knew?”
“Of course, she knew! Who the hell goes camping in the middle of winter in Chicago?” He laughs again. “She assumed if we kept getting you two together, maybe it’d happen for real, and it did. Shay, you may have been lying to convince me you were someone else, but you became that man regardless.”
“So, you’re not mad?”
“No.” His chest rumbles. “I think the whole thing is hilarious.”
I smile, feeling much lighter now that all this fake shit is off my chest. “I really do love her though. Now.”
“Yeah, no shit, Shay. You don’t make the kinds of changes you’ve made for any reason other than love.”
He puts his hand out to shake mine and as I do, he pulls me into a hug.
“So, to be clear,” I ask again. “You’re not trading me?”
“I’m fairly certain Caroline would trade me for a new husband if I did. She really loves having Indy around and I couldn’t think of a better captain for this team.”
Lips pressed together, I dip my chin. “Thank you, sir.”
He takes off down the hall again. “Dinners don’t end when the season does!” he calls out. “I expect to see you, Indy, Ethan, and Annie at least once a month all summer long.”
A smile slides across my mouth. “We’ll host.”
Hopefully.
44
RYAN
I caught a flash of blonde hair in the middle of the third quarter when I allowed myself a moment to look into the stands.
Indy is here with Zanders and Stevie, and that alone feels like a win. The second win is coming in about fifteen seconds as the clock runs down on the final regular game of the season, ending with the Devils up by fourteen.
Our first playoff berth in six years.
It’s about time. For me. For this team. For this city.
For the first time since I’ve been in the league, my future with this organization feels hopeful. Like we could make a real championship run in the coming years. Our attention no longer lies on how to avoid being the last in the league, but instead, it’s figuring out how to be the best.
For now, we’ll take our eight seed and see what comes of this playoff run in the coming weeks when we go against the number one seed in the Eastern conference. Realistically, this season might not last too much longer, but we accomplished the one thing we set out to do, and that right there feels like our own version of a championship.
As the buzzer sounds, I stand from the bench where I enjoyed the majority of the fourth quarter and Ethan is the first man I see. He puts his hand in mine, swinging his other over my shoulder in a hug.
“Hell of a job,” he says into my ear, patting the back of my head.
“You too, man. Thank you.”
I’m not about to get all sappy on the spot, but he knows what I mean. Thank you for mentoring me. For having my back and supporting me as we transition from his captaincy to mine. For being my friend when I thought I didn’t need any.
There are no confetti, no banners, or parades for this win. This isn’t a championship by any means. On the big stage of the NBA, this is just another victory, but here in Chicago, it’s everything.
Leon jumps onto another rookie like a couple of kids on Christmas morning. Our coaching staff hugs and congratulates each other, and Dom rushes to his mom sitting in row three.
We still have a long road ahead of us, but this is a milestone I’ve yet to meet in my career, and I’ll take it.
My shower is quick, as is our postgame meeting, and I practically sprint to the family waiting room once released. Stevie and Zanders are the only two waiting for me, and as much I love them, the disappointment is obvious.
“Nice game!” my sister exclaims.
I wrap my arms around her, before doing the same to my future brother-in-law.
“You weren’t complete shit,” he says.
“Can’t say the same for you. What the hell was with you in that game I watched last night?”
“I was distracted! I just found out I’m going to be a daddy. Sorry that hockey wasn’t the first thing on my mind.”
I playfully clap my palm against his cheek. “Well, at least somebody will call you that so you can stop asking my sister to.”
Zanders’ hazel eyes swing to Stevie. “I’ll never stop begging, sweetheart.”
She slides her bottom lip between her teeth. “I do love when you beg.”
“Okay,” I cut in. “Can a man not get one night of peace? And at my place of work?”
“It’s my place of work, too, buddy.”
Turning to my sister, I get straight to the point. “Where is she?”
She shrugs. “She had to go do something.”
“What the hell could be so important that she had to leave as soon as my game ended?”
“She might come by our place later. You’ll come over tonight, right? After you go home.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, defeated. “Let me go home and change and I’ll come by after.”
Leaving the arena without a real celebration felt off and my drive to the apartment was lonely. Just as it’s been lonely every time I’ve had to walk into the empty space over the past few days. Not seeing her mess when I walk through the door, not finding her reading on the couch. Having all my lights off because I was the last one to leave.