True. Luckily, my phone buzzes, sparing me from listening to whatever cheer-Wes-up speech he’s prepared. A glance at the screen shows an unfamiliar Boston number. I immediately regret being so gung-ho about the interruption. All my Boston friends are programmed into my phone, so I’m either dealing with a reporter who somehow got my number, or worse—someone who’s connected to my dad.
But I pick up anyway, because I’m tired of listening to the Downer Donny voice in my head. “Hello?” I say in a guarded tone.
“Is this Ryan?” The male voice sounds oddly familiar. A deep baritone with a comforting rasp to it. Shit, where do I know that voice from?
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“Well, hot damn, kiddo. I can’t believe I actually reached you.”
My forehead wrinkles. “Who—” I stop suddenly, a wave of nostalgia washing over me.Kiddo. Lately, only Jamie’s mom calls me kiddo. But before that, I used to hear it from… “Reggie?” I say in shock. “Is that you?”
“Yesiree. It’s good to hear your voice, Ryan. Been a long time.”
Since I graduated from high school, I realize. Reggie retired when I was in my senior year. “Too long,” I say gruffly. “How’ve you been?”
“I’m great. Loving retirement. But I didn’t call to talk about me.” He pauses. “I saw your interview on TV.” Another pause. “He didn’t give me a dime.”
I swallow. “What?”
“Your old man. You said you wondered if he slipped me some cash to cheer for you at the games. He didn’t.” Reggie’s tone is impossibly gentle. “Almost got fired for that, actually.”
I’m hit with another jolt of shock. “What do you mean?”
He makes a disgusted noise. “Drivers are s’posed to wait in the car. The first game of yours I watched, I mentioned to your old man afterward how well you’d played. He threatened to can me if I ever left the car again.”
Of course he had. My father is a grade-A asshole. “But…” I frown to myself. From the corner of my eye, I see Blake listening intently to my side of the conversation. He’s not even trying to be sneaky about it. “But you kept coming to the games.”
Reggie chuckles. “Nobody ever said I was smart, kiddo. But I figured, how was the old man gonna know? I sure as heck wasn’t gonna mention it again. And you never did either, so…”
Something inside me cracks, flooding my chest with emotion. This man had faced my father’s wrath—had put hisjobon the line—just to watch me play hockey?
“Never been prouder, watching you on the ice,” he continues. “I just wanted you to know that. Didn’t want you thinking I got paid to do it, or that it was a chore for me, because I didn’t, and it wasn’t.”
My throat closes up. “Oh. Okay.”
“I watched your college games too, whenever they were televised. And this season? Jeez, kiddo, you’re setting records left and right.” His voice is gruff. “I’m damn proud of you.”
Oh hell. I might actually cry. On the bus. In front of all my teammates and my coach.
I blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears from spilling over. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re a good kid, Ryan. Always have been.” I can almost see the crooked smile on Reggie’s wrinkled face. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, you hear me? Forget the old man. Forget the critics and the nosy busybodies. You live your life the way you want to live it, and you keep doing what you’re doing. And know that you’ve always got people in your corner, people who give a shit about you.”
I blink some more. “Thank you,” I say again.
“Nice win tonight,” he adds, and then he disconnects the call.
My hand shakes as I set my phone on my thigh. Blake peers curiously at me. “Who was that?”
“An old friend.” My throat is so tight I don’t know how I manage to answer. “He was just calling to say hello.”
Blake nods fervently. “Blast from the past, huh? Those are awesome. Well, not always. Sometimes theysuck. You know who called me out of the blue last week? This douchebag I knew in high school—know what he wanted? For me to bang his girlfriend.”
I’d been fully prepared to tune Blake out. Until I heardthat. “Are you serious?” I gape at him.
“Serious as leprosy.” Blake gives me a disbelieving look. “Turns out this chick’s dream was to bone a pro hockey player, and the douchebag thought it would be a nice birthday present for her.”
“Wow.” I suddenly narrow my eyes. “Fucking hell. Please don’t tell me you said yes.”
