On Thin Ice (The Baltimore Banners Book 8) (23 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kenny sat on the edge of the bed, the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder as he leaned forward to pull on his socks. The phone slipped and hit the floor, bouncing just out of reach.

"Dammit!" He tossed the socks on the bed then reached for the phone, grunting as he bent over. "You still there?"

Laughter came through the line, a little muffled. Kenny frowned and lowered the phone, then hit the volume button with his thumb. "—bad time."

"What was that? The volume was turned down, I didn't hear."

More laughter. "I said it sounded like you're having a bad time."

"No, just trying to get ready for the game." He reached for the socks and managed to get one on.

"Then why did you call me if you're trying to get ready? You could have waited."

"I didn't want to wait. Besides, it might be too late after the game."

"It's not going to be too late. I'll be up."

She probably would, too. He liked knowing that Lauren watched the games, that she liked discussing them and knew what she was talking about. He was even used to her giving him her honest opinion, whether he agreed with it or not. He grinned, because it was usually a good bet that he didn't.

He yanked on the other sock, then muttered when he realized it was inside out. He pulled it off, fixed it, put it back on.

"You shouldn't be up. You need to rest."

The snort was loud and clear, telling him exactly what she thought of that. "I don't need rest. I've had enough rest to last the next twenty years. What I need is sex. And lots of it."

Kenny dropped the phone again, fumbling to catch it before it hit the floor. The door banged open behind him and he turned, frowning as Justin barged into the room. He rolled his eyes and put the phone back to his ear.

"Holy shit, Lauren. You can't just say stuff like that."

She laughed again, the low and throaty sound shooting straight to his crotch. He swallowed back his groan, trying not visualize her lounging in bed, dressed in nothing but a sheet. Then another thought came to him, one that completely obliterated whatever excitement he may have felt. "Uh, your dad isn't there, is he?"

"Yeah, he's sitting right next to me. Why? Did you want to talk to him?"

"No! God, no. Please tell me you're joking. You did not just say that in front of your father." Kenny paused, swallowing. "Did you?"

"Here, ask him. Hey Dad—"

Kenny shot off the bed, ready to make a run for it. Not like that would help, considering he was six hundred miles away. Somehow he didn't think the distance mattered. "No! Holy shit, please don't—"

More laughter, this time a little louder. "If you could hear the panic in your voice right now."

"Okay, that's not even funny." Kenny hurried over to the closet and pulled out his suit jacket, catching the tie before it slid to the floor. "He's, uh, he's not really there, is he?"

"No, silly. He's in the other room. God, you're so easy."

"Haskell, come on, we need to go."

Kenny glanced over at Justin, nodding to let him know he heard. "I'm not easy."

Justin stopped in the doorway, looking back at him with an expression of mixed surprise and disbelief. Kenny lowered the phone and glared at him. "Don't say a word, Tome. Not one word."

"Kenny, just call me after the game. Really, it's not—"

"No, I'm good. Hang on a sec." He shoved one arm into the jacket, his eyes scanning the floor. Where the hell were his shoes?

"Kenny, come on. Now."

"Hang on." He lifted the phone back to his mouth. "I need to find my shoes. Here, talk to Justin."

"What the—"

Kenny pushed the phone toward him. "Just talk to her for a second. And if you say the wrong thing, I'll tell Val that you called her hormonal." He hadn't, but that didn't matter. Color drained from Justin's face and Kenny choked back his laugh when he took the phone, staring at it like it might bite him. He glared at Kenny before speaking, his voice hesitant.

"Uh, hello?"

Kenny shook his head then rushed around the room, looking under the bed, in the closet. "Where the fuck are my shoes?"

"Check your bag."

"What are you two clowns doing? We need to go, now. The bus is waiting." Randy shouted from the hall, his voice getting closer as he stepped into the room.

"I can't find my fucking shoes."

Randy stepped further into the room, his eyes quickly scanning. "There, under the curtains." He turned back to Justin. "Is that Val? Let me talk to her."

"No, it's Kenny's girl." But Justin handed Randy the phone anyway.

"What the hell?" Kenny shoved his feet into the dress shoes, straightened his jacket, then stormed over to Randy. "Michaels, give me that phone."

"Hang on sweetie." Randy grinned and motioned to the bed with a quick nod. "You forgot your bag."

"What? Shit." Kenny turned back and grabbed the bag from his bed, running into Justin on his way to the door. "Come on, give me the phone."

"Fix your tie."

Kenny clenched his jaw then slung the bag over his shoulder, his hands moving to the tie as he tried to fix it blind. Doors started slamming around them as the remaining stragglers hurried into the hall: Harland, Dillon, Mat, Ethan. At least Kenny wouldn't be the last one down to the lobby.

He struggled with the tie, muttering under his breath as he undid it and started over. Randy rolled his eyes and stopped walking, handing the phone off to Mat. "Why are you having so much trouble with that?"

"Did you really just give my phone to Mat? What the hell?"

"Shut up and hold still." Randy frowned, his hands making quick work of the silk tie. Kenny pushed past him, hurrying to catch up with everyone else as they waited for the elevator. He reached over Mat's shoulder and pulled the phone from his hand, not bothering to wait until he finished talking. Laughter erupted around him and he shot his teammates a dirty look.

"I'm here. Uh, sorry about that."

"Kenny, honestly, you can just call me later. It sounds like things are a little crazy." He heard the laughter in her voice, pictured her sitting somewhere, a bright smile on her face, light dancing in her warm eyes. A grin spread across his own face at the visual.

"Not yet, I have a few more minutes." And damn, now the guys were staring at him, listening to every word. Kenny turned his back on them and stepped away, searching for privacy where none existed. "Did you have anything planned for tomorrow?"

There was a pause and Kenny wondered if maybe he pushed too hard, if maybe he sounded like he was expecting too much. Lauren cleared her throat, the sound almost drowned out by the ding of the elevator arriving. "I'm actually going to see Lindsay in the morning."

His hand tightened around the phone, anxiety pulsing through him at her words. "Are you sure—"

"Haskell, let's go." Someone grabbed the back of his suit coat and pulled him, forcing him to stumble back into the elevator. Kenny jerked away from the hold and glared at Randy over his shoulder. He didn't turn around, though, just adjusted the bag on his shoulder and kept staring at the brushed chrome control panel in front of him. The doors slid closed with a hiss, trapping him in the elevator with six of his teammates. He lowered his voice and tried to pretend they weren't there.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I need to, Kenny."

He opened his mouth then immediately closed it, his mind racing for the right way to frame the words. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice even more. "Did you want me to go with you?"

Another pause. Shit, she was going to say no. She was going to tell him she didn't need him there. And she probably didn't. That didn't stop the irrational feeling he had that he needed to be there.

She sighed, the sound almost too soft to hear. "If you want to go, okay. But it's not up for discussion, Kenny. I've already discussed it enough with Dale."

From the way she emphasized the word, he got the impression that any discussion with her brother probably involved a lot of shouting. Kenny was smart enough not to say anything, not when he figured he was probably in complete agreement with whatever Dale had said. "What time?"

"I'd like to get there no later than ten."

"I can do that. Did you want to grab breakfast? I can pick you up earlier—"

"How about lunch after?"

"Yeah, sure. We can do that."

The doors slid open and he nearly fell out of the elevator as everyone pushed him along. The rest of the team, coaching staff, and trainers milled in the lobby, the noise bouncing off the marble floor and walls. Kenny stepped to the side, out of everyone's way.

"I need to get going. See you in the morning?"

"Yeah."

He paused, his eyes darting around before he ducked his head and turned away from everyone. "Lauren, I—" He snapped his mouth closed as horror filled him. Holy shit, what the hell was his problem? He'd almost said it, almost blurted it right out.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. It was nothing."

"Christ Haskell, just tell her you love her and hang up the damn phone. We need to leave." Harland practically shouted the words right in his ear, his voice cutting through the noise with precision. Conversation stopped around him as several of the players turned to look, some of them laughing and shaking their heads.

Kenny wasn't laughing. He wasn't even smiling. His entire body froze in place, disbelief quickly replaced by the terror that tore through him. He heard someone call his name. Seconds dragged by before he realized it was Lauren. Shit. Had she heard? She must have. Everyone else had, there was no reason she wouldn't have, not when Harland had damn near screamed it.

Kenny tightened his hand around the phone and closed his eyes, like maybe that would block everything out, would make everything go away.

"Kenny? You there?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm here."

"What was that all about?" Was it his imagination, or did she suddenly sound wary, unsure?

"Uh, nothing. Listen, I have to run. I'll, uh, I'll see you in the morning." He didn't give her a chance to speak, just disconnected the call and dropped the phone into his jacket pocket. Then he dropped his bag and lunged at Harland, grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket and shaking him.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Huh? Why the fuck do you always have to run your mouth—"

Hands reached between them, voices shouting as someone pulled Kenny away. He stumbled, tried to brush the hands off him, felt other hands replace them as they kept dragging him back. Anger and bewilderment colored Harland's face as he stared at Kenny.

"What the hell's your problem?"

"You are! You and your big fucking mouth, shooting off all the time."

"Christ, I was only joking."

"That's your fucking problem. Joking around, never stopping to fucking think—"

"Dude, knock it off. Come on, calm down." Mat patted him on the chest, pushing him back, away from Harland. Kenny shook his head, wanting to lunge at Harland again, but something flashed in Mat's green eyes, stopping him. "Let it go."

"He shouldn't have—"

"I know. But not here. Not now." Mat lowered his voice and nodded at something over Kenny's shoulder. He glanced behind him, his stomach knotting when he noticed the coaches huddled together, watching them. The slash of Sonny's scar burned bright red as a muscle ticked in his square jaw.

"Not now," Mat repeated. Kenny nodded, forcing his body to relax. He glared at Harland, his eyes holding the other man in place. Randy stepped between them, breaking the eye contact, then bent down and picked up Kenny's bag before coming to stand next to him.

"Let it go, Haskell."

"But his big fucking mouth—"

"I know." Randy grabbed one arm and, together with Mat, turned him around and led him toward the door. "There's nothing you can do right now."

"Did you fucking hear what he said?"

"Yeah, we all did."

"Which meant Lauren did, too. Fuck him." Kenny skidded to a stop and looked over his shoulder. "Fuck you, Day. You need to grow the fuck up—"

"Not. Now." Mat pushed him as Randy pulled, dragging him outside to the bus. They kept a firm grip on his arms, not letting go until Randy practically pushed him into a seat near the back and dropped down next to him. Mat sat in the row directly in front then immediately turned around, leaning over the seat back to watch him.

"I can't fucking believe—"

"There's nothing you can do about it now." Randy's voice was low, steady. It did nothing to calm him down.

"But Lauren heard—"

"So then take care of it tomorrow when you see her."

Kenny glared at Mat. "Yeah? How the fuck am I supposed to do that?"

"Easy. Just tell her."

"Tell her what?"

"The truth." Randy shifted on the seat, turning to face Kenny with a small grin. "That Harland is an immature asshole."