“What was that all about?” I slip my hands back into my pockets, my eyes following Becca as she makes her way up the bleachers. The corner of my lip tugs up as she heads to the same spot I remember her and my mom sitting when they would watch me and John play in high school.
“That would be my niece trying to embarrass me.” I turn toward ‘The Denier’ and see a faint flush on his cheeks. “My brother told me not to make a big deal of it when she startedto call me by her nickname, but I didn’t listen. And now it’s a running joke.”
A time when one of my teammates was working to get a rise out of him during a game returns, and it clicks. Resting the back of my hand on his shoulder, my brows shoot up. “Wait. It’s not Dunk—”
The glare he turns toward me has my mouth curling at the corner and my hands lifting. “Okay, big guy. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything.”
“Smart idea if we’re going to be on good terms while you’re here.”
Duncan’s tone is gruff, but I get the feeling he’s only partially serious. I, however, will not be testing the water to see if my instincts are correct.
I glance over to where Becca is sitting, only to find her watching me. I dip my chin. A shy smile crosses her lips, and she raises a hand, making my pulse jump. Duncan’s niece plops down next to her and leans in toward Becca, and then looks over at me before pointing.
Her eyes pop open, and her mouth forms the words, ‘That’s J.T. “The Jet” Thornton?!' She then waves before grabbing Becca’s arm and bouncing up and down excitedly.
A buzz flows through me, and I’m brought back to the days when I was still on the ice with fans screaming my name. My eyes flit back to Becca, and a wave of emotions rushes over me.
The goal light flashes, and the horn goes off after I hit John for the one-timer that’s buried. The entire team rushes over to celebrate, and my focus shifts to my mom and Becca in their usual spot in the stands. Heat radiates throughout my chest as I watch them both standing and clapping, their faces bright with excitement, before Becca wraps her arms around my mother.
My Mom looks good tonight despite how sick she is. Her coming wasn’t the best idea, since she’ll be tired tomorrow. But I am really glad she’s here.
Becca looks my way and catches my eye right before John slams into me, cheering. Becca’s face lights up, and my mouth tilts up in response. Giving her a two-finger salute before heading back for the next faceoff…
The sharp sound of a whistle and Duncan’s arm movements bring me back to the present. I turn toward the ice and watch Steven skating back to us, but not before he glances up toward Becca and Duncan’s niece.
My gut tightens and drops. He reminds me so much of me at his age. I hope he doesn’t mess it up.
“What’s the verdict, Coach?” Steven questions as he comes to a full stop right before reaching the boards.
Duncan looks over at me, letting both me and Steven know that I’m the one in charge of this part.
I stare into Steven’s intense green eyes. Eyes that are determined and clear in their ultimate goal of not just being drafted to the NHL, but also proving he’s supposed to be there.
Again, a sense of recognition flows through me, and for the first time in a long time, I feel like I have a purpose again.
To teach this kid everything I know and help him achieve his dream. Not just for him, but for his dad.
I give him a breakdown of what I saw and the game plan. “But you’re not going to like me much while I’m running you through it.”
Steven nods at me, a smirk on his face, and his eyes shift quickly to Duncan. “It won’t be the first time that’s happened.”
Duncan watches Steven with pride, and I realize that the boy has something I never did. Confidence in himself, his abilities, and the love and support of the people around him.
My throat tightens as I think of my mom again.
Clearing my throat, I nod. “Good.” Bobbing my head toward Becca and Scarlett, I add, “You may also want to minimize any distractions too.”
Steven follows my head, then snaps it back to me and says quickly. “We’re just friends.”
Duncan grunts, and Steven’s face pinkens. “I swear.”
This time, I scoff, “All the same. Minimize distractions. Now let’s get started with the Four-Dot Drill.” I point at the puck bag. “By the end of the next few weeks, I want you to have three different looks you can go to without giving it a second thought.”
“Yes, Coach.”
He skates out to the center of the ice, and I look toward the bleachers again. Becca and Scarlett are watching Steven as he sets up.
“Steven might not be the only one who needs to minimize distractions.”
