“She doesn’t belong,” the second boy mumbles.
“That’s what I thought you said.” Dane straightens fully.
“Everyone over here,” he says, gesturing to center ice.
The kids gather, Scottie hovering slightly apart, chin lifted even though I can see the tension in her shoulders.
“This game doesn’t care who you are,” Dane says. “It doesn’t care what you look like. It doesn’t care if you’re bigger, smaller, louder, quieter, a boy or a girl, if you’re new in town, or your family has been here for generations.”
His gaze sweeps the group.
“All that matters is how you play, how you treat your teammates, and how hard you’re willing to work. If you can’t handle that, you don’t deserve to wear this jersey.”
My chest burns.
“Scottie belongs here because she earns it,” he continues. “Just like every single one of you. Anyone who has a problem with that can take a seat.”
The boys drop their eyes.
Scottie’s shoulders relax.
“Got it?” With their nods, Dane blows the whistle again. “Back to work.”
Practice resumes, but something has shifted. The energy is different. It’s not perfect, but it’s better.
And not just for the players.
For me.
My heart is practically bursting out of my chest. And while I know there’s a better than good chance that he’ll leave town again, I have this need to reconnect with him. To see where these new feelings that are even stronger than the old might go.
Even if it’s temporary. It couldn’t hurt. Right?
When practice ends, Scottie skates straight to me, cheeks flushed. “Did you hear everything?”
“I did,” I say, pulling her into a hug. “You were amazing out there.”
She grins. “Coach Dane is awesome.”
I laugh softly. “Yeah. He is.”
And she doesn’t even know just how awesome. As I watch him give the boys from before another talk, I’m once again stricken by how well he’s grown up.
Not just physically, but as a human. He’s a man. A good one at that.
I wonder if he kisses like a man now.
I wait until Scottie heads to the locker room before finding Dane near the bench.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice quieter now.
“It was nothing.” He shrugs. “It was the truth.”
“It wasn’t nothing. It mattered to all of those players and Scott.” I take a shaky breath. “And it mattered to me.”
He studies my face for a beat, more than a spark of interest lighting his eyes. “I’m glad.”
The adrenaline still buzzes through me, and my pulse beats loudly in my ears. Before I can think better of it, I step closer and press my lips to his.
