“Unless you’ve got a cure for headaches.”
Her eyes narrow. “Are you hungover?”
“Not a hangover. More like a twenty-year leftover.” I try not to grumble as her smile is so sweet. “I had a concussion when Iwas playing in the NHL, and the aftershocks have been content to linger all these years.”
With her brows dipping down in the middle, she leans one hand on the counter in front of me. “Wow, that’s a long time to suffer from an injury.”
Not wanting to be a downer, because I didn’t come here for pity, I force a playful smirk. “Just enough to remind me I’m not invincible.”
Her eyes pace around my face. “Hang on a second, I have something. I’ve nursed a few hockey injuries in my day.” She disappears into the kitchen, reappearing a moment later with a small bag of crushed ice wrapped in a dish towel. “Here.” She nudges it forward. “This might numb the pain long enough that you can eat.”
“I don’t need that,” I say, pushing it back. “I’m tough, remember?”
“Right.” Her lips curl into a beautiful, flirty smirk. “I forgot. I’m talking to a former NHL star. You are definitely tougher than a bag of ice.”
A chuckle slips from my lips, but it’s paired with instant regret as my head pulsates in protest.
I swear her eyes soften as she watches me, but the door jingles open, and her gaze is instantly averted as she rushes out, “Noah.”
I turn more with my eyes than my body to the door. Sure enough, Noah’s grinning, totally at ease as he first spots his mom, but his gaze quickly shifts to me. “Hey, Bill,” he says, sliding onto the stool next to mine. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Hey.” I give Ruth a sideways look, but she’s turned her back to me, filling my coffee cup. “I came for the pancakes,” I say, right as Ruth places my coffee cup in front of me with a polite smile. “How was practice?”
“Good.” He gives a solid nod.
“Did you have a good morning?” Ruth asks him, her voice even.
He shrugs, peering at me and then back to her. “Yeah, we had a lot of drills and a ton of skating. I’m starving. Can I have pancakes and a burger?”
She doesn’t seem surprised as she pulls her pen out of her apron and writes on a ticket. “Oh, to have an eighteen-year-old metabolism again,” she mutters under her breath before she slides the ticket through the cook’s window. Instead of turning back to chat some more, she grabs a pitcher of ice water and walks around the room, refilling everyone’s glasses.
And I understand.
Noah is her kid. Although I know him, it’s an odd thing. Like, she’s not ready for me to be included in sharing this part of her life with him.
Noah is her whole world, and I’m basically a side character of that world right now. A side character, who can’t stop imagining more slow kisses with her… My heart ticks up as if competing with the pounding in my head. It's as if my heart is trying to tell me my path forward: The key to Ruth’s trust isn’t going to be the banter that works on other women. The key to her heart is through Noah.
Because he is her heart.
I turn slightly, resting one elbow on the counter and face Noah as much as I can, without splitting my headache open worse. He helps himself to a glass of water and scrolls his phone.
“So, Noah,” I say, nudging him lightly with my elbow. “Who are you going for in tonight's game?”
He perks up instantly, aiming his sharp eyes on me. I notice immediately those eyes are mirror images of his mother’s, and I barely hear him say, “Florida.”
I wince dramatically. “I thought we were going to be friends.”
A chuckle slides from his lips as he shifts in his chair, redirecting his attention back to me. “What is there to hate? They have a tough defense, and they’re fast.”
“True.” I nod, getting a flashback. “I played against them back in my day, and they aren’t easy to keep up with. You’re fast too though. I actually think you could keep up with them.”
“Thanks.” He nods slowly, like he’s letting my compliment sink in.
I steal a glance toward Ruth. She’s wiping a clean counter with her back toward us, but she’s not looking at the counter. She’s looking straight ahead, giving away that she’s more than likely listening.
My heart kicks hard, reassuring me this matters.
I turn back to Noah. “Hey, listen, I'm glad you’re on the team. I want you to know if there’s anything I can do to help you succeed, I’m here for you. I want this to be the best team.”
