Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
The boys nodded in unison, tapping their sticks as they rose to their feet and whooped.
Quinn met my gaze and grinned. “To the ice, Coach?”
I inclined my chin. “Hey, Mellon, c’mere.”
Denny hobbled over on his skates, fixating on something over my shoulder. “Coach?”
I lowered my voice even though the locker room had mostly cleared out. “I want to apologize. I put a lot of pressure on you. Maybe too much. Hey, no need to sugarcoat this, you’re the best player we have and I still think you’re captain material, but if the whole thing is too much, we’ll forget it. Just do what you do best.”
“Th-anks,” Denny replied, his voice breaking as he turned away.
I grabbed his elbow. “Hang on. Are you okay?”
His Adam’s apple slid in his throat. “Just a bad day.”
Fuck. This was a bad day to have a bad day.
I’d given the inspiration speech, told the stupid jokes, I’d begged, I’d pleaded, I’d yelled, I’d even apologized. I’d tried everything. What else was I supposed to fucking do?
I pursed my lips and wracked my brain for one more “we got this” speech. “I believe in you, Denny—not just you as a player or a leader, but as a person. Go out there and—”
“No, I—it’s…my mom has been texting me all day. My dad’s been gone three years…today.” A lone tear careened from his lashes onto his cheek. He swiped it angrily and stared at the rubber mat flooring. “She’s been crying and she’s—”
I didn’t think. I dropped the clipboard and hugged him.
Denny stiffened…one beat, two beats—then he heaved a horrible all-body sigh and went limp in my arms. He didn’t cry, but I could feel the weight of his unbearable grief. And damn, I knew exactly how that felt.
I knew loss. I knew it well.
I released him after a minute and bent to pick up the clipboard.
“Are you okay to play tonight?”
“Yeah. I want to.”
“Okay, then play for your dad. It might not make the shitty feeling go away, but it might help. I don’t have any other advice. Life is unfair and sometimes it flat-out sucks, but you’re not alone. You got people in your corner, looking out for you. Got that?”
Denny raked his teeth over his bottom lip and nodded. “Thanks, Coach.”
I patted his shoulder and headed for the exit. “C’mon. Let’s play some hockey.”
We won.
We won the fucking game. It wasn’t even a close one. We dominated throughout all three periods, connecting pass after pass, outskating our opponent, and outsmarting them on defense. It was as if four months of coaching had finally sunk in on one night. They worked like a machine, seemingly knowing where to be on the ice to optimize their scoring opportunities.
Denny scored in the first period, Niall scored at the start of the second, and little Adam scored at the end. I was pretty sure Tracy’s screams would reverberate in my ears for another twenty-four hours. We were up three to nothing at the beginning of the third, but the wind went out from our sails a bit when Wood Hollow scored on a breakaway. Sadly, I assumed this was the cue for the wheels to wobble and the game to completely fall apart, but no…my boys rallied like blood-thirsty warriors, Denny leading the charge.
I could practically see him digging in deep, turning up the heat, and demanding his teammates match him. I actually heard him tell Abe to cover him. With words. He drew a foul and scored on a penalty play with a beautiful pass from Abe, and with thirty seconds on the clock, he did it again, lighting up the lamp with a well-timed fake pass that caused a traffic jam on his flank and left just enough chaos for him to make a move. It was an unlikely angle, but Denny’s wrist shot was pure gold. It slid right between the goalie’s pads and boom!
The final score was five to one, Elmwood Hawks.
The crowd went fucking wild. You’d have thought this was a tie-breaking series championship winner instead of an ordinary midseason high school game. The roar was deafening, and every single person in the arena was on their feet, cheering our boys as they skated victory laps, waving their sticks in the air. The joy on that ice was a living, breathing thing, and I was humbled to be part of it.
I bro-hugged Quinn, then scoured the stands, looking for a particular familiar face. I spotted Riley and JC, and Court with his fiancé, Ivan sitting next to Vinnie and his husband, Nolan. I saw Ronnie with his daughter, Mary-Kate and Tracy, Mike, Crabby Annie, and—there he was.
Bryson stood in the aisle, a broad grin on his handsome face, his gaze locked on me as he clapped and cheered. My heart jumped from my chest to my throat, emotions threatening to spill over in an embarrassing display. I couldn’t help it. I was just…really fucking proud. Proud of the boys, proud of myself.