Brody leaned forward on the bench and glanced up at the clock. Less than three minutes left, and they had a one-goal lead over visiting Toronto. The refs blew the play dead and everyone sat back and took a breath as the broadcast went to one final television time-out.

The coach grabbed a whiteboard with rink markings on it and outlined their next play. Brody nodded and climbed over the boards with his teammates. Mark was out on defense and even though the draw was in the Toronto zone, the Caps' goalie was focused on the play.

The puck dropped and the players scrambled for it; the puck scuttled into open ice. Brody darted down to grab it and flung it across the ice to Mark, who collected it at the blue line and waited for a clear passing lane to open so they could execute the play.

Brody knew what would happen next: the Leafs would try to gain possession and get out of their zone, and in another minute, they'd pull their goalie for the extra skater. Might even pull him earlier if it looked like it would pay off. He turned his attention to keeping the Leafs penned in their zone.

A Leafs' defenseman corralled the puck and shot it up ice. Both teams raced up to follow, and Toronto's goalie skated to the bench. Another forward took his place as play moved into the Caps' defensive zone. The teams fought for the puck, but a slap shot by Toronto hit a stick and went out of play. Everyone sucked air and Brody hopped over the boards, his shift done.

Brody watched as the Caps won the face off and the puck went to Baxter, who carried it up and shot it at the Leafs' empty net. It didn't have enough power behind it, and the ice was rough, but his linemate, Callahan, got there before any of the Leafs did and sent it into the empty net. The Caps' bench, along with the arena, jumped up and cheered.

The goal energized the Caps, who played keep-away and penned the Leafs in their own zone for the last minute or so of the game, and when the siren sounded to end the game, relief and more cheers swept through both players and fans. Brody joined in the celebration but felt tired and empty.

Coach gave them a quick, complimentary pep talk before reminding them of their schedule the next day. There were more road games on the horizon, including one the next night in Toronto, the second half of the home-and-home with the Leafs, the last time the teams would meet for the season.

He busied himself with his after-game routine, going over the list of things he'd need to pack for the trip; they were leaving in the morning. It was an unnecessary exercise—he could pack for a trip like this in his sleep. On the other hand, it kept his mind occupied.

Brody, Bax and Mark went to a small bar in D.C. a few blocks from Verizon Center to unwind after the game. Brody slid into his seat and ordered a beer and Mark and Bax followed suit. Brody listened as his friends rehashed the game, offering no opinions unless asked a direct question.

Bax took a drink and looked at Brody. "You okay?"

"Sure. Why?"

"You're not your usual obnoxious self. Everything okay?"

"Fine."

"How's Ryan?"

Brody shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Haven't talked to her in a few days."

Bax paused before replying. "You guys just busy, or what?"

"Don't know. You'd have to ask her."

Mark turned to him. "What happened? What did you do?"

Brody stared at his friend. "Where the fuck did you get this idea that I'm such an asshole when it comes to women?"

Mark and Bax exchanged a glance, then Mark shrugged. "Sorry, man. So what happened?"

Brody took a long pull on his beer. "It would appear I'm too much of a jock for her. I didn't jump up and down enough when she told me about her tour."

Bax nodded. "Okay, then."

"Come on, that can't be all of it. What did you do?" Mark tapped his finger on the glass.

"Gainer, if you ask me that once more, I will break your leg."

Mark and Bax exchanged another look. Brody huffed out a breath. "Guys, look, I'm not in the mood for this. I just want to decompress for a while, then go home."

"Why don't you call her?" Bax asked.

"She knows how to get in touch if she wants to."

"Come on, man. You're going to let it go just like that?" Mark leaned back in his seat.

Brody gave him a puzzled look. "What do you care? You never thought I should go out with her in the first place."

"I was just worried you'd end up hurting her."

"Relax, that's not what happened." Brody drained his glass. "Trust me, Ryan can handle herself. She made that very clear."

Bax's laugh rumbled up from his chest. "Can you handle her?"

"Very funny, Bax, but it's a moot point."

"Nah." Bax waved a hand. "These things happen. You'll get past it."

"Right." Brody signaled for another beer.

Later, at home, Brody sat in front of the television. Someone was making something fantastic on the food channel, but he couldn't concentrate. Food, he thought sourly, made him think of Ryan. In fact, it felt like everything made him think of Ryan, and it pissed him off.

She'd broken up with him. That was fine, he'd been through plenty of break ups, and been on both sides of it. None of those, however, had affected him the way this had. He'd been amazed at how disappointed he was when she hadn't called or come over after a couple of days. He'd never felt like that after a break up before. With previous girlfriends when it was over, it was over, and he could deal with that.

He hadn't expected to miss her and he didn’t know what to do about it. It didn’t even seem fair. She'd been the one who'd started the argument; by all rights, he should still be pissed off at her. The only thing was, anger wasn't the only emotion he felt; it wasn't even the primary one.

It was just as well she hadn't called. It was all getting too serious, anyway, and he'd never meant for that to happen. He didn't want to be tied down when he still had hockey to play. He didn't want to be like Bax, not seeing his family for weeks on end because they were in one city and he'd gotten traded to another.

Ryan had said she could do it herself. Brody saw no reason to doubt her.

x-x-x-x

At rehearsal, Ryan was pleased that things were running smoothly. They sounded good; she felt like they hadn't meshed like this in ages. Maybe Jason's absence was the key, she thought.

They'd all remarked on how much less stressful everything was without him.

Even so, Ryan was distracted. She'd felt guilty since she'd gone off on Brody, and knew she'd been wrong. She wanted to apologize but wasn't sure if he'd listen, and she couldn't blame him if he didn't. The song ended and she stared at the floor, lost in thought. She didn't see her friends looking at each other, then her.

"Ryan. Hey, Ryan." Lara waited for a response, then looked at the guys.

Mitch bashed his cymbals and Ryan jumped. "What the hell?"

"Ryan, you're not all here," Mitch said. "You okay? We can take a break for a while or knock off, whatever."

"Um, yeah. Sure. I could use a break."

"Okay, you guys go." Lara made a motion to shoo Nate and Mitch out of the room. "Go somewhere and come back in a little while."

"Yes, Mom." Nate grinned as he set his bass down. "Hey, Ryan, if it's guy trouble, remember—show up naked with beer. If it's really serious, bring pizza, too."

"You guys are so helpful." Ryan shook her head and laughed as the guys left, then turned to Lara as she leaned her guitar on its stand. "What's up?"

"Mitch is right, you're not all here. What's going on?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry; I'm just a little tired, and you know how I am. I'm thinking about the tour."

"Yeah, I got that. Ryan, you are not just distracted. You played with about as much emotion as a robot. Or dare I say, Jason?"

Ryan stared at her friend. "God, I must really suck."

"I know something's been bothering you, and it probably has to do with Brody."

"How would you know that?"

"Please, I'm your best friend." Lara scoffed, then sat down. "I'm serious. You've been in a pissy mood ever since he met your parents and if I hear one more angry metal song, I'm going to turn your iPod off with a hammer. You haven't mentioned him at all for the past few days. So tell me what it is. Did you break up?"

Ryan dropped into a chair; Lara could be nosy, but this was genuine concern and deserved an answer. "I'm not sure if we broke up, but we did have a fight. Well, I did."

"What happened?"

Ryan explained about their argument. "I know, I was wrong. I was just so mad, and he was there and I took it out on him. I went too far."

"So go apologize. He'll listen."

"I should, whether he listens or not. I owe him that much."

"Whatever you do, do it soon. We need you back."

Nate and Mitch returned with food, much to the amusement of Ryan and Lara. Ryan noted that Nate never returned without food, not that she was complaining. After a snack and a quick discussion, they ran through a couple more songs before calling it quits for the day.

On the drive home, Ryan waited; she knew Lara wouldn't be able to not say anything. It didn't take long.

"You know, I bet this isn't as bad as you think."

"Hmmm?"

"It's just a misunderstanding, and you guys have had time to cool off. It'll be fine."

"Probably."

"Brody's a cool guy; he doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge."

"True."

"So it'll all work out."

Ryan shrugged. "One way or the other, I guess it will."

"When did you become so pessimistic?" Lara looked over and gave Ryan a little shove.

"Eyes front. I'm not. I'm just not getting my hopes up."

"You are so frustrating to talk to, do you know that?" Lara shook her head. "You're supposed to be nervous and tell me about it, and then we eat ice cream. You know, like women are supposed to."

"If I did that, what would you do with Trout?" Ryan laughed at Lara's scowl. "Relax, I'm going to talk to him. I'll go as soon as we get back; I'm pretty sure he doesn't have a game tonight. After that, you can get out the ice cream. Make sure there's lots of mint chocolate chip."

Once at the apartment, she put her guitar and keyboards inside. Fearing she might change her mind, she didn't even take her coat off before going up to Brody's. To keep herself occupied in the elevator, she double-checked the team's schedule via her phone and was both relieved and apprehensive to find the night clear.

She knocked on the door and toyed with the end of her purple scarf while she waited. When Brody answered the door, her mouth went dry.

"Hi." Brody stood in the doorway.

"Hi." Ryan cleared her throat. "I, ah, is this a bad time?"

"No, it's okay. Come on in."

"Thanks."

Ryan stood in his living room and played with the end of her scarf again. She knew what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t get started. Brody broke the awkward silence.

"So, what's up?"

She looked at him, unsettled by his neutral expression. "I, um, I'm sorry. I was totally wrong last week and I never should have said, well, a lot of things. I was upset about my parents and other stuff and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have. I know I have a temper, but that's no excuse." She took a deep breath and kept going. "I should have apologized before now. So, I'm sorry." Ryan twisted the scarf around her hands.

Brody was quiet for minute, then nodded. "Okay."

Ryan was both relieved and uncertain. She hadn't thought past her apology and so had no idea what to say now. She groped for words.

"Okay, good. I—like I said, I'm sorry it took so long." She refused to look away and managed a small smile. "So, that's it. I just wanted to stop by and . . . anyway." She took a step back towards the door. When he made no move to stop her, she murmured a good-bye and left. In the elevator, she tried to ignore the heavy feeling of disappointment that settled over her.

Lara was waiting for her when she walked in the door. "So, how did it go?"

Ryan shrugged. "It went. I apologized."

"And?"

"And he said okay. Then I left." Ryan hung her jacket on the back of a chair. "That's about all there is to it."

Lara stared at her. "That's all? He didn't say anything else?"

"He told me I could come in."

"Ryan, what—"

"Lara, it's done, okay?" Ryan took a breath; she hadn't meant to sound so sharp. "Look, I apologized and he accepted. Now, how about that ice cream?"

Lara looked as though she wanted to say something, but shook her head instead and went into the kitchen. Ryan pressed her fingers to her eyes; she wasn't sure there was enough ice cream for this.