“Yeah, Evan hopes to perform well enough this season to be called up for the Coyotes.” His gaze followed the players on the ice.
“How old is he?” They went to high school together, so…I shifted in my seat and winced as a Firebird tucked into a Salt Lake guy and threw him to the ice. “Holy fuck, that had to hurt.”
“Evan’s twenty-five, same as me.” He pursed his lips. “He’s a little old to still be waiting for his call to the NHL.” With a sly grin, he faced me. “They wear a lot of pads.”
“Still. These guys wear skates, get hit by rubber bullets and fall on fucking ice.” I shook my head. “No, thank you.” I drank more beer, thinking about what he’d said. “Is his salary good in the AHL?”
“Not really. I mean, not compared to the NHL. But he’s been doing it for a few years, so it’s considerably better now.” He shrugged. “I don’t ask him how much money he makes. But he drives an old, beat-up Jeep and wants to get a roommate for his apartment since his other one moved out after getting his NHL call-up.”
I nodded. “Oh.” Even practice squad guys made good money in the NFL. I returned my attention to the game.
A Firebird forward grabbed the puck and made a beeline for the net, juggling the puck with his stick. As he neared the crease, he backhanded a shot up high and to the left.
Salt Lake’s goalie spread his legs and dropped, raising his gloved hand just as the puck flew past him and landed in the net.
The horn blew and the lamp lit on the net while the announcer said, “Goal, Firebirds.”
“Oh my God, goal!” Colton hopped from his seat. “Go Firebirds!”
The stadium erupted in cheers, and ACDC’sThunderstruckstarted playing.
The players huddled around the forward, slapping him on the back.
Rising, I watched Colton with a broad smile on my face. He was so damn happy. This had been a good choice for our first date.
As the players departed their celebration, Evan and a Salt Lake player shouted insults at each other. In the next second, they threw their gloves, and a fight broke out, Evan and the other guy grabbing each other’s jerseys and punching.
“Holy shit.” Colton covered his mouth with his fingers. “What the hell happened?”
“Don’t know.” I chuckled. This was insane. “You can’t do that shit in the NFL or in college ball.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. The ref was just watching them.
The crowd went wild as the stadium filled with chants.
As the Salt Lake City player hooked his arm around Evan’s neck, the ref blew a whistle and pulled them apart.
“Well, Evan’s about to hit the penalty box.” He snickered and dropped into his chair.
“What about the other guy? I think he started it.” I sat down and sipped my beer as the fans calmed around us.
“He’s heading to the penalty box too.” He smirked. “Evan calls it the sin bin.”
As Evan skated toward us, he threw us a lop-sided grin and waved before entering the box.
“He loves fighting.” Dipping his head, Colton chuckled. “He can be a little crazy.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Funny how opposites always attract. There was nothing crazy about Colton. Okay, maybe I was wrong. He was a little crazy in bed, which I loved.
As the second period ended,the players left the rink, and we got snacks. I followed Colton up the stairs to the concession stand. “What are you thinking?”
“Popcorn?” He threw me a sly grin. “Shit, hold on.” At the landing, he fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans and held it to his face. “It’s Evan. He wants to know if we can meet him after the game.”
My brows swept up. “Yeah? I’d love to meet him.” He knew about us already, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
Colton worried his lower lip. “I don’t know…” He glanced at me. “Fuck, okay.” He tapped on his phone, and it buzzed. “He’s asking if we can meet him at the Coach House.”
“Have you ever been there?” Tempe was my usual spot, so Scottsdale bars were unfamiliar. I watched the people passing us by, ordering drinks and food at the stands.
“No, I haven’t.” He lifted the edge of his lips as his head tilted. “I don’t get out much, remember?”