Chapter 5: Rule Two

On Friday night I came up the stairs and heard nine male voices coming through the apartment door.

I stood there with my key in my good hand and my bandaged wrist held against my chest.

Rule Two had said, text me first.

Nobody had said anything about Rule Two applying to Teddy.

I opened the door.

The living room was full of Wolves.

They were on the couch, on the arm of the couch, on the floor, and in the kitchen doorway, in team jackets, around four open pizza boxes.

Teddy was standing on the coffee table with a slice in each hand.

"ROXANNE!" he yelled. "She lives here! Be nice!"

Nine heads turned.

"Evening," I said.

"I texted you," Maddox said, from the kitchen.

He was holding a trash bag and looked tired already.

"You texted me one minute ago," I said, looking at my phone.

"I told them it was a bad idea."

"It was a great idea," Teddy said. "Pre-game carbs. It's a tradition."

"It's never been a tradition."

"It is now."

A very young guy with a buzz cut stood up and offered me his spot on the couch.

"Ma'am," he said.

"I'm twenty," I said.

"Sorry, ma'am."

The others laughed, and I sat down.

For a few minutes it was almost nice.

A defenseman asked about my wrist.

Someone handed me a slice of pepperoni.

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