I hear the humility, and I respect it, so I nod. I don’t agree with his assessment on holding back, but he’s not asking for my opinion. This kid is something special. I’m going to mention him to Jonesy so we can keep an eye on his career and maybe give it a little push if he’s willing.
“Any interest in playing at a higher level, or is this just a hobby?” I ask because now I’m invested and curious.
He shrugs.
“I would love to play at a decent hockey college, but my parents don’t have that kind of money.”
I nod sympathetically. He’s not wrong. Hockey’s an expensive sport, and I understand the money issue. My parents struggled to afford for me to play years ago, and it was a lot cheaper back then. Now, the costs are crazy high. Parents are the unsung heroes of the youth hockey world. I have so much respect for all the things my parent gave up, just so I could play hockey.
“Mom’s a teacher, and Dad works for Ball at the plant. We’re not poor or anything. Just don’t have enough for hockey and college. I help by working here on weekends to cover my books, fees, and gear. Mr. Helmut’s cool about being flexible with my schedule.”
I keep nodding so he’ll keep talking. This kid’s got his priorities straight, and I love seeing it.
“I can get my first few years of gen ed done much cheaper at the community college, and it only matters where you graduatefrom in the end, so I’m hoping by my last year, I can afford to go to a state college.” His face is so full of hope and ambition. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be that young. His enthusiasm is contagious, and I can’t help but grin.
“Smart move. I agree, it’ll keep expenses down. It won’t help with your hockey issue, though. What’s your major, or do you know it yet?”
“Yup. Computer science. I want to be a software developer someday, designing video games or something. I took one class already, and it was kick ass. I’m psyched for junior year when I can take more classes toward my major.”
This kid has a plan, and it’s a damn good one, from what I can tell. When I was that age, I couldn’t find my gear half the time, and hockey was my only genuine interest. I need to keep track of this kid. He’s got incredible raw talent, and he’s got the kind of mindset that gets kids to the pros. He could use a little mentoring, and I know the perfect guy for the job. Jonesy could use a hobby anyway. Maybe we can secure him a scholarship or some financial aid. I’ll check with Joslyn.
“Sounds like you’ve got a solid plan, Travis. That’s gonna be key in life if you want to succeed. You’re on the right track.”
“Hopefully, it’ll work out.” He pauses, looking a little nervous, before asking hesitantly, “So, think you’ll stop by here again sometime? We usually do a pickup game a few times a week. It’d be cool to skate with you again.”
“Absolutely. Tonight was fun. Tell you what, why don’t you give me your number, and let’s keep in touch? Here’s my phone. Go ahead and add your info, then text yourself.” I hand him my phone, and he does what I’ve asked.
“Thanks, Mr. Hawk!” He gives me back my phone, then smirks and punches my arm. “You did alright for an old guy,” he chirps, heading for the locker room.
I don’t even try to keep up. I’m feeling all thirty-eight of my years right now.
“Just Hawk,” I shout after him, the cocky bastard, but I’m smiling because hockey is the best fucking game, even if tomorrow I’m going to hurt like hell.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Joslyn
I left work early today, on a Monday, no less. Not my usual style, but I needed a break from peopling. I know we need to hire more staff, but I’m emotionally done for the day. To be fair, “early” for me is four thirty since I’m typically there much later. I told myself I left because I needed to take Abby for a run, but that’s a complete lie. The truth is that I’m running away. I avoided Damon all day...because we had sex.
At the arena.
Where I work.
Where anyone could have caught us.
Could I have been more irresponsible?
Okay, there was more to it than that, but most of it’s a big shame spiral, and I’m drowning in it. For a plethora of reasons, not just embarrassment. I mean, why stick with only one reason to beat yourself up? I have no problem finding several.
For God’s sake, what was I thinking? It’s not like I’m a twenty-year-old anymore, not that I would have even when I was twenty. Who does that? Well, actually, according to Lainy, there are plenty of people who do things like that, but I don’t think of myself as one of them. Betterrethink that. Fortunately, the only other people in the building that night were the security guys. They never come into the gym while my music is playing. Eddie says it gives him a headache.
Admit it. It was the best damn sex of your life.
Oh, it was absolutely the best sex. Ever. In fact, I had no idea sex could be this incredible. No wonder Lainy can’t stop talking about it. Seriously. After Kurt, I’d had sex a couple of times. It was nice, but this? This was mind-blowing, life-altering sex. The kind of sex that makes you rethink all your life choices. Which is exactly what I’m doing. Well, maybe not all, but more than one. And damn, that man and his sexy, dirty-talking mouth. I’m never going to recover from that mouth. Who knew I was even into that? Not me. It makes me wonder what else I’ve been missing all these years.
I pull on my running gear, determined to get a run in despite my crappy mental state. I can’t seem to get out of my head. My face flames as I think about how I avoided Damon all day. I was such a damn child about it, too, but did I fix it? No. Knowing I behaved badly didn’t stop me from ducking out early. I never even answered his instant message about dinner. The guilt and shame are pretty much killing me.
I found myself rereading it a dozen times today. I even typed out a response at one point, but then I deleted it. Not my finest hour.
