“Likewise.”
“It’s good to see you back in the rink, even if you’re not the one playing.”
I nod. Liam and I shared more days than I can remember out on the ice. “There’s nobody I would rather share this experience with.”
“Any plans tonight?” he asks, fishing for answers, but if this thing with Natalie is getting serious, I need to be upfront to my people about it.
“Actually, yes. I’m having dinner with Natalie and her girls.”
His jaw drops. “So it’s serious, huh?”
I shrug. “I want it to be.”
“I’m glad. You deserve it.”
“Thanks. How about you?”
“Just home with the kids. Someone moved next door, and I’m trying to figure out what’s going on.”
“To Willow’s old house?” Nobody has lived there for years. It has been empty forever, and the mere mention of Willow makes him look haunted. “It’ll be fine.”
“We’ll see.”
In no time, I make it to the pizza place. They’re already sitting at the back table like we agreed. We knew we didn’t want to leave the game together to avoid gossip.
Natalie’s eyes lock on mine as soon as she sees me. She waves, drawing Bella’s attention. Her face lights up as she waves too, making me the happiest I’ve been in a long time.
“Hello, Bradshaw girls,” I greet them, and although Bella smiles bigger, Natalie flinches. I want to hit myself immediately for it. Why would I do that? Bradshaw was Nick’s name; I created unnecessary tension.
“Coach!” Bella shouts, scooting over and patting the empty seat next to her.
“You can call me Holden, Izzy.”
She rolls her eyes. “You can call me Bella when we’re not playing. It’s so confusing being Izzy and Bella at the same place. Think of Izzy as my alter ego!”
I chuckle. “Sure.”
“I hope you’re not picky, because we already ordered,” Natalie interrupts. “This little monster was starving.” She ruffles a smiling Vero’s hair before turning my way.
“As long as it’s not pepperoni, I’m fine.”
They all gasp.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. That’s fine by me.”
“I lof pepewoni,” Vero says in her cute voice.
“Oh, me too.” I offer her my hand. She studies it at first, but then she places her delicate one on mine. It’s incredible how small it is, how this tiny hand belongs to someone so vibrant and who means the world to people. So small and so full of possibilities, hopes, dreams.
Kids are truly miracles.
"So tell me, Coach Clay: what are your intentions with my mother?” Bella asks.
“Bella!”
I smile softly, letting her know I take her question seriously. I respect that she’s not beating around the bush; she’s going straight for what she wants. It’s admirable that, at fourteen, she’s so assertive.
“Well, I like your mom very much.”
