I shrug. “I don’t know. I just haven’t.”
“Maybe he’s scared,” Fox says. “And I hope you brought some good bait, because go fish, Lockey Poo.”
Huh. Guess I got that game all wrong.
And how the fuck did Fox know that’s the reason? Am I easier to read than I like to think?
“Guys, come on. Let’s leave him alone. If he asks her and she says yes, great. Auden will find a way to fit her in. If he doesn’t want to ask her, he doesn’t have to. Auden was just being nice and wanted to make sure Chloe felt included.”
“That’s because Auden is, like, the sweetest ever.”
Everyone looks at Lawson.
“What? She is, and you guys know it. Were you expecting me to say that about Rory or something?” He laughs. “She’d tear my balls off if she heard me talking so nicely about her. She’d want me to say she’s a blackhearted evil queen. Mostly because she’d wear that name with pride.”
“Yeah, all right, that’s fair,” Hayes says. He pokes me with his elbow. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you should be scared to ask her. I mean, shit, she’s your wife, right? I know you guys have had your problems, but there must be a reason she’s still around, yeah?”
It’s the same thought process I’ve had, which makes me feel a little better about hanging on to that very thin thread of faith.
“Yeah, and if she says no, it’s okay. I’ll slow dance with you, Kells.”
This time, Lawson isn’t too quick for me, and I flick him right between the eyes before he ever sees it coming.
“Hey! Ow!”
He tries to smack me like this is some playground fight, but I grab his wrist, practically hauling him over the seat and snatching my eye mask out of his hand in the process.
“Think you boys can maybe keep it down back here?”
We all look up to find Coach Smith hovering at the end of our aisle, one of his dark, bushy brows quirked high, the gray in his beard and the wrinkles around his eyes extra noticeable tonight. You’d think he’d be happier that we just beat the team he was once a member of before retiring, but he looks exhausted. We all are at this point in the season. We’ve been playing hard, fighting every night to get as many points as we can to put us at a better advantage to open the playoffs at home.
But I’m also certain a little bit of his tiredness is from us.
“Sorry, Coach,” Fox says, andof coursehe’s the first to apologize.
Coach Smith doesn’t look his way—his eyes are locked on me, where my hand is still wrapped around Lawson’s wrist.
“Want to let go of my leading goalscorer, Keller?”
I drop his wrist instantly, and Lawson cradles it, even though I wasn’t holding him that tightly. I shoot him a dirty look, and he grins at me in a way that says,Ha-ha. You just got yelled at by Dad and I’m innocent.I give him one back, promising he’ll regret that. He looks scared.
“Keller, you got a minute?” Coach Smith asks.
“Yeah, sure.”
I squeeze past Hayes, flipping Lawson off on my way, and follow Coach back to the front of the plane. We settle into two seats, separate from everyone else.
“What’s up, Coach?” I ask once we’re comfortable.
“I just wanted to check in with you. I’ve heard rumblings that you’re dealing with some stuff at home.”
He doesn’t mention my game or say that’s what he wants me to focus on. He’s genuinely looking out for me, and that’s what sets him apart from all the other coaches I’ve had. He cares. Not just about our play, but about us as people.
So, I decide to be honest with him.
“I am dealing with some…things. My, uh, my wife is in town visiting.” I pause, giving him a chance to ask questions, but he doesn’t. “But I’m handling it.We’rehandling it. I’ve been able to compartmentalize and play, so we’re good there.”
“That’s good,” he says with a nod. “But I really wasn’t worried about that. I know you have a good head on your shoulders. I know you’ll do what you need to in order to give this team the best chance they have at the Cup. I was just worried about you.”
