Page 69 of Two for Charging

“Think about it, eh?”

“I guess.”

“And you’re gonna have to apologize to Dmitriyev.”

Howie scowled.

“You called him a stupid fuck in front of the entire team leadership,” Chris reminded him.

“Ugh.”

“And, um.” Chris paused, searching for words. “Maybe go easy on him?”

“Why should I?” Howie asked with a snort. “He wouldn’t if he knew about me.”

“Okay—one, you don’t know how he would react if you don’t tell him. And two… Well, try to put yourself in his shoes.”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to play for Canada someday?” It was the thing most hockey players, heck, most professional athletes dreamed of: getting to represent their nation at the highest available level. Personally, Chris never got as excited about the idea as he should. He cared about the team he played for all year, so having to get used to a short-term roster of superstars for a one-month occasion sounded stressful. Especially with the NHL changing its mind about whether or not players got to participate in international events during hockey season every other year. Going to the actual Olympics was a pipe dream, both because of NHL rulings and because no one in their right minds would invite him anyway.

“Of course,” Howie said. “That would be…amazing.”

“Okay, so what if you could only play if you agreed with everything Canada did as a nation and you never put a toe out of line? You know Joey Richter in Nashville? They didn’t put him on the roster four years ago after his dick pics ended up on Twitter, saying it violated the moral code or something.”

A snort escaped Howie. “Okay, but Richter’s an idiot.”

“Well, yeah, but should being an idiot stop me from playing for Canada?”

“No, of course not…oh.”

“Yup. And for the Russians, it’s way worse. If they say the wrong thing, they can’t play for Russia, and maybe they can’t even go home and see their families, or something happens to their families while they’re here, or—”

“I know,” Howie snapped. “But there’s things you know are right or wrong anyway.”

“And nobody gets to make mistakes?”

Howie pounded a fist against the floor. “Not fair, Breezy.”

Chris thought he was being more than fair. “So you’ll apologize.“

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him.” Howie forced himself to his feet. He stumbled over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out. “You think Tom and Jax have a toothbrush I could borrow?”

“Probably.” Chris opened the cabinet by the toilet to check and then closed it again right away. How many condoms did two guys in a committed relationship need? And how did they think this evening would go if they left that stuff out in the open? Or rather in an unlocked cabinet anyone could chance on? It was a miracle that only Hayes had figured them out.

Then again, maybe they didn’t care.

“Nothing in there,” he said.

“Whatever. I think there was some peppermint schnapps at the drinks table.”

Chris held Howie back by the collar of his Peter Pan costume. “No. You already threw up once. You’re a professional athlete, man. Don’t be dumb.”

He corralled Howie out into the hall, where Tom waited with a disheveled Dmitriyev.

“'Sup, man,” Howie said. “Can I talk to you?”

Dmitriyev grunted.