Yo Ho Ho, page 12
"You ready?"
He turned to see Max standing there with a red wool coat on, her brown hair cascading over her shoulder.
"Yeah." He pointed to the picture on the wall. "Who's the kid in the picture?"
She gave him an apprehensive smile. "That's me."
He turned back at the photo, a new sensation filling him. He couldn't really explain it, but it just felt like she had revealed something important about her, something that she didn't reveal to many people. He knew she had probably played as a kid. It was evident when she would get her skates on for the media skate before their outdoor games or when the team had its season ticket holder events at the arena every few months. But he couldn't ever remember her actually talking about those days.
"That's a good picture of you," he said.
He turned to see her smiling at him. "Thanks." She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "So you ready to go?"
"Lead the way."
She opened the door for him and then followed him out, stuffing her keys in a small purse that she was able to slip into the pocket of her coat. He quietly followed her out of the building, nothing spoken between them. He wondered if maybe she was nervous. He definitely knew he was.
Logan had tried to think this whole thing through. He left the choice of bar up to Max. "Surprise me," he had texted her. But what about all the stuff besides drinking? He had been with a few women so far this year. Not many, but a few. But it was always just a drink and then back to her place. Maybe dinner if it was a crazy night. Back in March, Alex missed a road trip because of an injury and Logan had a night with the hotel room to himself.
But none of those were real dates, and none of those women was Max. Not even close.
He watched as she walked ahead of him with confidence, moving swiftly through the lobby of the building out into the night, holding the door open for him before she pulled the collar of her jacket up to cover her face.
"Little cold tonight," she said as she wrapped her coat higher.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Just a little."
"I was planning on taking you to a bar nearby," she said. "Nothing fancy. I just didn't want to go to one of the cocktail bars."
"That's fine."
What was this? This conversation was boring and stupid. Why did he feel like he was some awkward teenage kid out on his first date with a girl? He had slept with Max. More than once. He knew how her skin felt under his fingers. And yet he was acting like such an idiot right now. The only solace he was getting out of this was that Max seemed to be acting the same way. It was like they knew how to act in an arena or a hotel on a road trip. They didn't know how to interact with each other in real life.
"This feels kind of weird, right?" she asked him.
He laughed, thankful that she was the one to bring it up. "Yeah, it does."
"But we're just two friends going to get a drink, right?"
"Totally just two friends going to get a drink."
"Good," she said. "Right. So uh, did you have trouble finding the place?"
Logan groaned. "So far, we've talked about the weather and if I was able to find your apartment, which clearly I was because I'm here."
"We're horrible."
"The worst," he said. "Maybe if you wore your bunny slippers instead of those boots, it would've been fine."
Max's laugh immediately warmed him up. "My bunny slippers?" she said. "I don't know if they would've matched my red coat tonight."
"At least I would be able to talk to you about something normal. This whole thing you have going on right now is weirding me out."
"What whole thing?" She looked down at her red coat and black boots. "I think I wore this same exact outfit last month to cover a game."
Logan shrugged. "Yeah, but that was at the arena."
"So I look different at the arena?"
"Yeah, you do."
She gave him a skeptical look and then rolled her eyes before turning at the intersection and taking a few steps up to a door for the bar on the corner. He didn't even see if there was a name on the outside and wasn't even sure there would be one if he checked. It definitely wasn't one of those cocktail places, that was for sure. It looked like it had been there well before the area started to regentrify and it definitely hadn't gone through any updates during that time. The bar itself was a well-worn wood. The stools, tables and chairs looked like they were bought 30 years ago. A few of them had red electrical tape holding rips in the fake leather together.
Max started to unbutton her coat and walked to the bar. "I thought we could just get a drink and go sit at a table."
"Yeah, that sounds good," he said with a smile.
He was just about to lean over to get the bartender's attention when the man's face lit up.
"Max!"
Two guys Logan assumed were regulars at the other end of the bar replied "Max!" and raised their glasses to her.
"Hey, boys."
"We haven't seen you in a while," the bartender said. "That hockey team is keeping you too busy."
She gave him a tight smile. "Not for much longer."
He nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I heard about what's going on at the Herald. Such a shame," he said. "Time moves on though, right?"
"And you guys stay right here."
"That we do." He took a towel from his shoulder and wiped down the bar in front of him. "So what are you having?"
"Jack on the rocks." She turned and gave Logan a warm smile. "What do you want?"
Logan stopped for a minute, staring at the woman in front of him with the brown eyes who seemed so at ease at this no-nonsense dive bar. It was just another thing he found attractive about her, although he shouldn't really be surprised. Max was a no-nonsense kind of woman, which is something he always liked about her.
"Uh, whatever you're having."
She smiled and turned back to the bartender. "Make that two. Oh, and I'm paying."
Yep, definitely no nonsense. But that didn't mean he had to always agree to it.
"No, I am. You can get the next round."
Max scowled at him. "I can pay for drinks."
"I know you can," he said as he opened his wallet and handed over his credit card to the bartender. "You can buy next round."
He turned to see the bartender staring at him. Uh oh. He recognized that stare. It was the "Holy shit, you're a hockey player for the Detroit Pirates" stare. But then the bartender's stunned face began to warm up again as he leaned over and said to Max, "You can bring Logan Moore here anytime you want." Then he winked at her.
It didn't bother Logan or at least it shouldn't have bothered Logan. That guy looked like he was 60 years old with thinning gray hair and a growing belly. He was the stereotypical bartender.
And yet, seeing Max get attention like that from another man made him feel jealous. Max was there with him, not the bartender. He was her date.
But Max just gave the man a small smile in return. "We're going to take a seat in the corner. Can we get our drinks there?" The man nodded and took Logan's card back with him. "C'mon," she said, taking hold of Logan's arm to direct him to the table.
Whatever unwarranted jealousy he was harboring quickly disappeared as Max led him over to a small table set back in the space. It was a quiet corner, away from the main bar — although that wasn't saying much considering how small the bar was already. She took her coat off and draped it over the back of the rickety chair before sitting down. He followed her lead, taking his coat off and sitting in the chair across from her.
Logan leaned over on the table and smiled at her. "You are full of surprises, Maxine Quinn."
She turned her head slightly. "Really?"
"I expected maybe a flashy bar or a loud bad or something," he said. "I don't know why, but once we walked in, I kind of realized that this is your kind of bar, isn't it?"
"It is," she said earnestly. "It's the neighborhood place and the regulars know me and usually talk my ear off about hockey, which is always fun."
"I can imagine."
She gave him a perplexed look. "How so?"
He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "You love talking about hockey and debating hockey. You don't play it, but it's still a huge part of your life and you're OK with that."
She gave him a sheepish smile before quickly turning as the bartender came over to set down two drinks and a basket of popcorn in front of them.
"Thanks, John."
"Yeah, thanks."
The man gave Logan his card back and leaned over. "The last guy she brought in was a loser. But she can bring you in anytime, OK?"
"Who was the last guy she brought in?" Logan asked.
John the bartender shook his head. "I don't know who he was, but he never heard of Bobby Orr. Max is too good for a man like that."
The bartender walked away without another word as a smile began to tease Logan's lips. He turned to find Max grabbing for her drink with her big brown eyes darting around the bar, trying to avoid looking at him.
"Your last boyfriend didn't know who Bobby Orr is?"
She put her glass down on the table and gave him a defiant look. "No, the last guy I brought in here didn't know who Bobby Orr is."
"So you just dated a guy who knew nothing about hockey? You didn't have an actual relationship with him?"
"Exactly. So it wasn't that bad."
Her stoic face started to break and it seemed she couldn't stop the smile that teased the corners of her lips. Instead, she started to laugh and picked up her glass again, pointing a spare finger at Logan.
"In my defense, I was trying something new by dating a guy who knew nothing about hockey. You know, get out of my comfort zone."
"And how did that work out for you?"
She shrugged. "I went on a week-long road trip with the Pirates and never heard from the guy again," she said. "Besides, I'm here with you now if that says anything."
Logan stared into her brown eyes and took a deep breath. "It does."
He raised his glass in her direction, and she clinked hers against his before they both took a drink. The uneasiness of their walk over was finally starting to break away from him. He didn't have to be nervous around her. She was Max. She cracked jokes about guys she had gone on dates with and liked hockey. She was easy to be around. Not pretentious or high maintenance like most women he went on dates with. Not money grubbing or begging him to take her to the fanciest restaurant or the trendiest night club. She was self-deprecating but also self-assured. She didn't need to be seen with him. She just wanted to be with him.
It was an odd revelation for him, but a good one. A very good one. It seemed to warm him, and warmed her up to him. She put her glass down and started asking him questions, but real questions and not hockey questions.
"So you live in Birmingham," she said. "Doesn't seem like a happening place for a single hockey player."
"That's why I like it."
Logan told her about his apartment and why he wanted to live somewhere that wasn't right next to the arena. He talked about the awesome restaurant downstairs that had his order memorized because he went there so often. He mentioned the nice older couple who lived next door because their kids were older and living on their own.
"Mary came by the other day with a whole platter filled with Christmas cookies she made for me."
"Your neighbor is a nice old lady who makes you cookies?"
"Yep."
"And Amanda gave you cookies when she filled in for me on that road trip?"
Logan gave her a teasing smile. "You wish you had my life."
Max laughed in a way that warmed him to his core, her smile infectious and inviting. It was all just… nice. Sure, it was a dumb, boring word to describe it, but there was something just so basic and calming about being with her at this table, talking about his neighbors or her parents. Max told him about some talk she went to a few weeks ago at the library when she actually had a day off. Logan mentioned how much he liked to put on a baseball cap and sit in the corner of the Starbucks near his place, watching people walk by.
They both remembered growing up and playing sports in the winter months when the temperatures would drop and the snow would pile up.
"My uncle had a cabin on a lake in Ontario that had this huge hill out back," Logan explained. "When it was really cold and the lake froze over, we would take our sleds back there and go down the hill until we hit the bottom and slid at least another hundred yards out on the ice."
"I bet it was a long hike back after that."
"Totally worth it." Logan took a drink and gave her a wistful smile. "I miss that place so much in the winter."
"You don't go up there anymore?"
He shook his head. "My uncle died a few years ago. Heart attack. So my aunt sold the place, and the new owners scraped the whole thing off and built a huge cabin on the property."
"I know what that's like."
Logan raised a surprised eyebrow in her direction. He watched Max give him a tight smile and take another drink from her glass.
"That picture you saw at my place? It was from this awesome rink I used to go to over in Ferndale when I was growing up. Three sheets of ice and a smaller rink that had free skating at seven in the morning on the weekends. I was there all the time. All the time."
"But you haven't been back?"
She stared down at her glass. "They sold it a decade ago. It was torn down and now it's a strip mall. There's a trendy sushi place where that little practice rink was."
The bartender stepped up to their table with two new drinks and cleared off their empty glasses. They both quietly took drinks, mourning the losses of their beloved spots that once meant so much to them.
"So is that why you stopped skating?" Logan asked her.
"No." Max shook her head and took a long drink. "I played until I was 14, and got knocked out by another player. Totally not his fault, it was just that the guys got bigger than me. I just couldn't compete against them anymore so I had to stop."
"I'm sorry," he said quietly.
"Me too." She took a deep breath and gave him an awkward smile. "But it led me to become a writer, and I couldn't imagine doing anything else."
Logan nodded. It made sense to him now. The thing about not wanting to be with him because her job was so important to her. The heartbreak she must be dealing with now that it was going to be taken away from her. The pain he had caused her by calling her out in that stupid parking lot last week. It made sense now.
He couldn't imagine his life without hockey or what he would do if he was told he couldn't play hockey again. Sure, he had occasionally thought about what would happen when he retired or if he got badly hurt. Every hockey player thought about that. But he figured he would still play in alumni games or get his skates out for charity events or something.
"So did you just go cold turkey?" he asked her. "No more playing hockey after that?"
"Cold turkey," she said.
"But I've seen you on skates before."
"Remember that outdoor game two seasons ago?" she asked. "When they let the media skate on the ice the day before you guys played?"
Logan nodded.
"I had to buy a pair of skates for that. First time I had them on in years."
He couldn't help but reach his hand across the table and grab hers. Max stilled for a bit, then her fingers curled around his, her hand warm against his. It was just a little gesture but still seemed so big. Sure, they had been more intimate than that — much more intimate than that. But there was something different and more open about this touch between them.
The cover story he made up about them talking about work-related stuff? That was a complete waste.
"We don't look like we're talking about your job," he said quietly.
"No, we don't."
She squeezed his hand and then slowly slipped it out of his. Her face had become more stoic again, her expression unreadable. But he knew exactly how he looked. Disappointed. He thought he had finally broken through to her. He had found that part of Max that could belong to him, just to him. That part that he wouldn't have to share with her job or his hockey playing. That part that wasn't confined to arenas and airplanes and hotel rooms.
He wanted that little part in her that belonged just to him, and he still didn't have it.
Max took a long sip from her drink and put her almost empty glass down on the table. Then she looked up at him, her eyes dark under the dim bar lights.
"Maybe it's not a bad thing that we don't look like we're talking about my job."
He took a deep breath. "Maybe."
"So should we get out of here?"
She gave him a hopeful look, an open look. He was trying to keep himself guarded and not dare to think her words were anything more than a hint that it was time for them to leave.
"Yeah, I should probably get you home, eh?"
Her face faltered a bit. "Well, I mean, you could stay if you want."
"Stay?"
She nervously bit down on her lower lip. "Yeah, you could stay at my place. A bit. If you wanted."
Logan couldn't stop the goofy smile that spread across his face. He tried to cover it up by adding some swagger to it. He was probably failing miserable, but with Max, he didn't care.
"Yeah, I would like that."
She gave him a small nod. "OK," she said.
Max turned and started to stand up, grabbing her coat off the back of her chair. Logan immediately stood up as well, taking it from her hands to help her put it on. She looked over her shoulder at him in a way that made him want to take her right there in bar. Instead, he grabbed his own coat and wordlessly followed her out the door.
The wind was whipping up a little more than when they had arrived an hour earlier. Max slipped her hand into his again, putting her other one in the crook of his elbow so she could pull herself closer. He could feel her cheek against his shoulder and, without even thinking, turned his head to give her a small kiss on her forehead.
"Thanks for taking me out tonight," she said quietly.
"Anytime."
Max's hands tightened around his arm, and it just felt good. There was something so simple and natural about her with him tonight. It almost felt like it was just them together with nothing else. No jobs, no rules, no barriers.
