EPILOGUE
Eight Months later
Michael
The middle of summer always sent an energy through me that meantget ready.Not just for school to start but also for practices to get more intense, for workouts to be more regimented, and to start mentally preparing for the season. It felt weird as fuck to still have all the same hockey thoughts but none of the school ones.
I had a masters in sports management. I had a full-time job I loved that consumed me to the point I wasn’t convinced this was adulting. Adulting was supposed to be bills and laundry and stress… but this was different. I was happier than I was sad, and I was hopeful about the future. Sure, there were bad days still, but the future didn’t seem as daunting. Not with my girlfriend by my side and filling the void in my life with her dorky jokes and contagious laugh.
Plus, my sister and her partner were getting a fucking house together back east, and wow...my life had changed a ton this past year. Freddie and I met once a week to catch up like we were buds. Which, we were. It was still odd to have casual friends who weren’t a part of my hockey world. We even met with Naomi’s friends for trivia nights. I eyed my desk and the huge to do list I just started staring up at me.
I had a to-do list that was all hockey. My dream scenario.
It was moments like this that made me smile up at the sun, silently thanking my parents for watching over me. Some would say it was weird or what not, but I knew deep in my soul that I had to go through the hard stuff to finally reach the place where life was good. Better than good. I still missed my parents something fierce, but I wasn’t as sad.
Or alone.
God, I was rarely alone.
“Ay, Reiner,” the familiar voice of Cal Holt at my doorway making me groan. “Don’t do that. You love me.”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” He sat down across my desk with a piece of beef jerky hanging from his mouth. I met his confident smirk, and even though he was right, I refused to give in to him. I had a soft spot for him that I was sure went both ways.
The young kid had needed someone, and I’d become that person. I was still his assistant coach, but there was a relationship now that would span beyond the college team. We both knew it, but there was no sense talking about it. “Is there a reason you’re in here stinking like teriyaki, or am I just special?”
“Coach said he’s ready for you.” He wiggled his brows and scarfed down a huge chunk of the food.
Still an uncivilized punk with all the talent in the world. After he swallowed, the weight of his words hit me.Coach.Naomi’s dad. She was still working on their relationship, but it was better. There were a few times where I was awkwardly in the middle, but honestly, it felt right helping them navigate their miscommunications. The fact I had a part in them fixing their past made me insanely happy. I knew my mom and dad would be proud too.
I rubbed the back of my neck, and Cal picked up on it instantly. He leaned forward with wide eyes and a stupid smirk.
“Oh, you’re anxious. Why? Naomi?”
“Wow, way to mind your business.” I sighed and eyed the hallway, unsure what I was nervous about. Sure, talking to Coach about my intentions after Naomi’s senior year was difficult, but it was time. It’d been almost a year, and we’d only ever talked about our relationship once.
The day I confessed everything. He stared at me, nodded, and saidYou’re both adults. Handle it that way.
“Bro,” Cal said, and I held up a hand.
“Call me Reiner or Coach.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned onto my desk. “For real though, you two get along. You’re a decent guy. You and Naomi are annoyingly good together.”
“Decent guy? I’m sure every father wants to hear their daughter is dating adecentguy.”
Cal’s ears turned red, and he held his palms up in surrender. “Don’t make me compliment you.”
I snorted and stood, ready to do this. Whatever it was…if it was hockey related, he’d send me a text that saidlet’s chat.This formalized invitation to come into his office made the entire situation weirder. “If you hear any crying, bring me tissues.”
“Whatever man, you’ll be fine. Promise you’ll invite me to the wedding.”
I ignored his comment as I walked toward Coach’s office, but Cal’s words took root and grew. Wedding. Marrying Naomi. Being her husband and sharing every moment of life with her. I could picture it—my small family blending with hers. Hell, her dad was already a mentor to me. Naomi Reiner.
Reiner-Fletcher-Simpson.
I had a smile on my face thinking about all the ways she could hyphenate her name, if she even wanted that, when I tapped the door to his office.
