Chapter One
Jacob
Thebuzzafterthecall has me wiping grease from my hands. I throw the rag on the car engine, and pull the phone from my pocket. Nobody leaves messages nowadays unless it’s important or they want something from me.
How do I know? Because since hanging up my skates, I haven’t had my phone ringing all that often, forget about people leaving messages.
I’m actually surprised I have my phone on me, usually it’s sitting on the kitchen table. When I see the name of the person on the screen the corner of my lip tugs up.
Duncan ‘The Denier’ James.
Last time I saw him was when the Wolverines played the Carolina Hurricanes in a three game series. If I remember correctly it was one of the few times where I scored on him. Twice.
Pulling up his message, I hit play. In typical James fashion he’s a man of few words. “Call me.”
No hello. No long time no talk. Just ‘call me’. Shaking my head I snicker. It’s good to know that in a world where everything is ever changing, there are some things, and people, that don’t.
Walking up the stairs, I make my way into the house and grab a bottle of soda from the fridge. Twisting off the cap I take a swig, lean against the counter and hit the call button.
“Hello,” a brusque, slightly frustrated voice answers.
“If I didn’t know better I’d think I was bothering you.” My lips twitch as Duncan grumbles something to someone before hearing a door open and close then people murmuring in the background. “Is now a good time?”
“It’s good,” he says tersely. I let out a snort causing him to snap. “What’s so funny?”
“You!” I scoff, gently shaking my head. “You’d think I calledyouout of the blue and told you to callme.”
I know Duncan well enough from our time as teammates on the Florida Panthers to envision him harried and scrubbing his hand up and down his face before he mumbles, “Sorry.”
Lifting the soda bottle to my lips and taking another drink, I wait for him to fill me in on the reason he called. Through the phone I hear footsteps slapping against concrete, but no talking. I pull the phone away from my ear and glance at the screen. “Duncan?”
“Give me one sec,” he says right before I hear a beep, then a door open and close. “I wanted to get to my car so I’m not overheard.”
Nodding, even though he can’t see me, I let the silence stretch, giving him room to explain why he’s acting strange.
“I’m coaching the Maple Ridge High School hockey team, and I have a player who I think could use your help.”
“James, I don’t—”
“I know you don’t play anymore,” Duncan says, cutting me off mid-sentence.
“No. That’s not what I mean.” I rake a hand through my hair and blow out a breath in an attempt to loosen the tightness in my chest. “I haven’t been on the ice since…” They had to carry me off. But I don’t say that part out loud.
“I don’t need you on the ice, J.T.” My breath catches at his use of a name I haven’t heard in at least a few years. A nickname left behind with the career that ended. “I just need you to work with him on some fine-tuning. Drills. That type of thing.”
“Duncan,” I grumble, blowing out another breath. This isn’t just about hockey, but I’m not going to tell him that. I grew up in Maple Ridge; there’s a reason I didn’t move back home after my career ended. I thought about it, still do sometimes, but the time has never felt…right.
“This kid has a chance to go pro, but he needs something I can’t give him, having played goalie. You can.”
I feel the fingers on my free hand stretch out before clenching into a fist as I listen to his words. I’m not as confident as he is that I’d actually be of any use. What he’s saying isn’t wrong. I’ve run the drills he’s talking about in my head and on the ice so many times that it doesn’t matter if I step foot on the sheet. I can do them in my sleep.
But am I ready to get back into the world of Hockey? Am I ready to face what I left behind?
“This kid has had it rough over the last year, Jake. But he hasn’t quit, in fact, he’s doubled down.”
Silence stretches as I chew on my bottom lip, not saying anything. This is a bad idea.
Then he says words that change everything. “His dad passed away last year, and it was his desire for Steven to make it to the pros. This kid has the talent, scouts are swarming, but he needs a little tweaking.”
