“I don’t know,” David says. “Practice, probably.”

“Then could I take you out after that?” Jake asks. “For dinner, or drinks, or whatever?”

“Don’t you have to go back to Florida?” David asks. The Islanders game is the last game of the Panthers’ road trip, and he realises immediately, embarrassed, that he just revealed he knows that. “You’re the captain.”

“I will,” Jake says. “But there’s three days between that and the next game, and just. Dude.”

“Dude,” David repeats, dry.

“You’re the worst,” Jake says, and David might take offence if Jake didn’t say it like it was a compliment. “Do you want to go on a date?”

“A date,” David repeats slowly.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “A date. You know what those are, right?”

“Fuck off,” David says reflexively, then winces, but Jake doesn’t seem to take it personally, laughs, low and warm, into the receiver.

“A date,” Jake repeats. “I want to date you. Is that cool?”

“I—” David says. “Yes. That’s cool.”

“Cool,” Jake says.

“I was just getting ready for practice,” David says awkwardly, when the silence stretches.

“Oh, am I interrupting the David Chapman routine?” Jake asks. “I can go.”

“No,” David says. “I mean, you are, kind of, but. That’s fine. I can keep talking.”

“Cool,” Jake says, and maybe David’s imagining it, but he thinks he can hear Jake smiling.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Spring settles in New York. As the snow melts and jackets are retired to the backs of closets, David grows tense with the reminder that the season’s almost over, that, once again, the Islanders won’t make the postseason, will be on the outside looking in.

He gets an email from Dave, a typically curt one that just serves to arrange a time when David will be free to talk tomorrow. David replies with a time an hour before practice — enough time to discuss anything important, a small enough window that David can beg off with prior obligations if Dave gets off-topic, as he does sometimes, asking about David’s life like a few years of being his agent gives him the right to pry.

Dave calls, punctual to the minute, and gets through some compliments about David’s play, notes for improvement that David can’t find fault with, before he gets down to business.

“I don’t know what your plans for the summer are,” Dave says, “but the camp in Toronto’s meeting again. Hell of a wait list already, but they give preference to repeat visitors. You want me to book you a spot?”

David already knew that it was returning; Jake had sent a text the night before with u doin toronto in july? im gonna :), and David figured that must have been what he meant, replied with I don’t know., because it was true.

When it comes down to it, the camp wasn’t the best for him, too abstracted to properly cater to everyone’s distinct needs, and David’s finally found a trainer outside the team whose style he likes. He’s based in New York, will be around all summer, and he knows what David specifically needs.