I pulled her closer toward me and smiled down at her, “77 was on fire today.”
“The coach looked pretty good out there too,” she returned with her eyes crinkling in the corners from smiling.
She looked so damn hot with barely any makeup on, just a swipe of mascara. She only took about 15 minutes to get ready this morning. I was happy that I got to have that kind of knowledge about her again. She was definitely a MILF and looked every part of it in her leggings, tidy white tennis shoes, and white baseball cap to match.
“Is that so?” I joked, tipping her hat up and leaning down to kiss her.
God I was so happy I could kiss her again. I’d never take it for granted.
She patted me on the chest and broke the kiss, “don’t you need to get in there?” She said, nodding towards the locker rooms without taking her eyes off me. She looked down at my hand with a little frown then, “Is it feeling okay?”
“More than, baby. Just a little stiff,” I winked to give her assurance. “We’ll be out soon.”
“Wanna hit up the cider mill after?” She asked hopefully.
I shook my head at her, “you just want the donuts, don’t you?”
She broke into a smile, God I loved her smile.
“Yes, I’d love to take you two,” I told her, and I really would.
As I turned forward to leave her, I realized we’d been watched. My eyes came up to meet Kevin Tate’s. He was standing near the locker room hallway, late to go in and untie Canyon’s skates.
His face gave nothing away; it was stone cold as he regarded me.
I felt my stomach twist into an angry, nervous knot and forced myself to continue walking his way.
When I reached him, I stuck my hand out to shake his even though I would’ve rather shit my pants than shake the slim bag’s hand. He was Canyon’s father and always would be, I reminded myself. I needed to make sure this relationship was at least cordial.
But he stared down at my hand smirking and he brushed past me to walk away, not even bothering to go into the locker room to chat with his kid.
I blew out the breath I’d been holding and looked toward the rink ceiling. God was testing me. I wanted to smash his teeth in.
But I truly didn’t want to be the one to further strain the relationship between Canyon and his dad. At the same time, what kind of guy refused a handshake? We’d never even been introduced to one another.
I had a feeling he knew exactly who I was just as I knew who he was though.
Pushing the locker room door in it dawned on me a little too late that if he wasn’t going in to see Canyon, he would be out in the lobby with Jules… I would go after her, but then Canyon would be sitting in the locker room alone- the only one without a parent congratulating him and giving him a pat on the back. No kid deserved that, and especially not him after all the hustle he put into that game. I pulled out my phone to text Jules real quick asking if everything was alright and that she should come hang in the locker room with us. At this age the kids didn’t care if a mom was in the locker room, I think kids preferred it sometimes, especially after a bad game.
God. I was so pissed at the situation. Now I was worried about Jules and Canyon.
I tried to relax my face. I knew I had murder written all over it.
Opening the door, I was hit with a massive whiff of kid sweat, music blasting, and Smitty yelling over top of it about heart and hard work. That guy really got into his post-game speeches.
I forced out a smile to the boys calling out to me and smacked some high-fives as I made my way over to sit my ass down next to Canyon who was busy trying to unlace his skates.
I could see he was struggling with a double knot, and it reminded me of his age. He acted and sounded like an adult most the time, and I knew that was because he wanted to be treated like one of the guys. Sometimes it really was easy to forget he was only a second grader. He was avoiding looking at me and everyone else.
Troy was sitting next to him busily chatting away, seemingly knowing that Canyon wasn’t going to respond and okay with it; he didn’t expect him to and he didn’t ask what was wrong. I liked the kid more for that. Troy would be a good friend to him.
I put a hand on his back, “you played an awesome game, kid.”
He stopped trying to untie his skate and turned to me, his head still lowered by his skates. I could see he was holding back emotion. He sniffed and twitched his nose a bit, “Was my dad mad?”
I wasn’t expecting that question and my face probably said that.
“He was,” Canyon deadpanned, answering for me. “That’s why he didn’t come in. I missed a bunch of shots,” he said quietly.
