I wave. “Take your time.”
“Help yourself, there’s a new pale ale we’re taste testing.”
The rough hewn island by the wall has stools around it. I snag one of the bottles in the mini fridge and sit.
I take a sip, groaning in appreciation for the perfect taste. Benson and Jess know what they’re doing.
While I wait for him, I pull up an article I saved last night. I want to show it to David to see what he thinks about incorporating it into the team’s development, but I haven’t found the right opportunity yet. I need to work up the courage to bring it up to him.
Benson startles me when he hefts a crate of empty bottles on the counter. “Swipe right. If you’re staring that long at her pictures, you want to bang her.”
“No.” I’m distracted by reading the article, then throw him a puzzled glance. “Huh? I’m not—no. I’m reading about mobility exercises for flexibility and balance training.”
His brows shoot up when I flash him my screen. “Oh, seriously? That’s a weird look on you. Are you about to turn into a workaholic?You?”
I hesitate to respond. His shock isn’t a surprise. I’ve always had a reputation of being too easygoing everywhere but on the ice.
“Maybe. I don’t know,” I admit. “I like this job, though. I don’t have the same expertise as a great coach like your dad, so I’m catching up in my own way.”
Benson’s joking expression falters. “Sorry. Ignore me. I never cured that inherent jackass gene.”
I snicker. “It’s all good. Kind of new for me, too.”
“That’s cool. You like it?” He circles the island and braces his forearms on it.
“I do. I—really do.” I lick my lips. “I think this might be my thing. What I want to do with my life.”
He nods supportively. “Staying here? Or anywhere?”
My fingers clench around the bottle. I don’t know how long I’ll get to remain with Heston U, but if I can I think I would. After only a short time, I like it.
I’ve always been passionate about hockey. I love practices most. Helping teammates work on whatever they were improving, or honing my own skills. Strategizing and analyzing plays. Coaching allows me to focus on all of those elements.
“Wherever I can,” I say. “For now I’m here, though. I’m gaining experience by shadowing your dad. And these players, some of them are insane. I think we’ll see some called up to the big leagues.”
Benson smirks. “What I’m hearing is you need to get laid or you’ll get all hyper fixated like Eve does. Let’s see, Melissa is single. Savannah is, too. Actually, you should make a dating profile.”
I pull a face. “I don’t need that. And I sure as shit don’t need to take a walk down a memory lane of past hookups.”
He plants his hands on the island, leaning across with a grin. “Welcome back to small town life.”
I snort and cover his face, shoving him. “Fuck off.”
“It doesn’t have to be anything serious,” he points out. “We both know that’s not you. Do it as a way to find out who’s still around to reconnect with, or meet someone new. That’s all I’m saying.”
Maybe he’s right. As simple as it is to go to places like The Landmark or Clocktower Brew House to flirt my way into someone’s bed, it’s not like my schedule will allow for relationships of any kind. The players have to put the hours in for practice and games, and as their coaches, we’re right there with them through it all. This cuts to the chase.
Plus, I have no idea if my time here will last.
“Just casual,” I muse.
“Yeah, man. That’s the spirit. Sow your wild oats and shit.”
I lift a brow. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Live it up. And let me live vicariously through you because as soon as I met Jess freshman year, she was the only one I wanted.”
“Then why do you need a thrill?”
