Bennett: Pass
Sunshine: It’s your career, Steele. This wasn’t my rule
Dammit.
There goes the ‘charm my way out’ option. I won’t be able to finesse this therapy thing. Not if it’s coming from the top.
A pit yawns wide open in my empty stomach. I fucking hate talking about feelings. Especially mine.
Feelings are bullshit.
I’m an action guy. I do things. I don’t sit in a room and talk about doing them.
But if the league wants me to dance? Fine, I’ll fucking dance.
I need this job. I need hockey.
And I can’t afford another penalty right now.
Resigned, I change into a pair of joggers and a T-shirt and head to the rink for practice.
I’m fired up from that text exchange. I move fast, skate hard. Sweating feels good — and helps me avoid thinking.
I have one of the greatest practices I’ve had in a while. Coach Keller notices, pulling me aside.
“Steele, you’re leaning into training and it shows.”
“Thanks, Coach. I’ve been putting in the extra reps. Working on my focus.”
He slaps me on the back. “Keep it up and you’ll be ready to hit the ice as soon as the league clears you.”
“Yeah, about that…” I spin my stick, tiny flurries of ice popping off the blade. “I only have one game left on the suspension, right?”
“Far as I know.”
“So you haven’t heard anything else?”
He frowns, a deeply etched furrow running between his brows. “Nothing new. Why?”
I shrug, playing it cooler than I feel. “I’m ready to be back on the ice.”
“Understood.” He levels his gaze at me. The unspoken ‘and’ hovering between us.
“The league’s mandating counseling sessions with Dr. Sparks. I was wondering if you had any pull. You know — to get me out of it. Seems like a waste of time, laying on a couch when I could be in the gym or running drills.”
He sucks his teeth, adjusting the papers on his clipboard. “Unfortunately, not my call, Steele.”
What little hope I had deflates.
“Even if I agree with you.”
Shit.
Coach Keller can’t even get me out of the therapy dungeon.
“My advice? Play nice. This is the league making sure you don’t become a franchise-killing headline. Don’t make things harder on yourself.” He pats my shoulder, then strolls away toward his office.
Looks like I’m going to therapy whether I want to or not.
