“Daaaaaaad!”
My head snaps around, my eyes landing on a little boy who can’t be more than seven. He’s pointing and gawking at me with the biggest grin on his face, wearing my jersey.
A middle-aged man comes running out between a collection of trees, halting when he notices his son isn’t in any danger.
He sighs and smacks the top of his own head. “I’m so sorry,” he says, catching his breath.
“It’s not a problem.”
The discomfort fades as I squat down. The kid’s innocent joy pulls me back to a place of lightness, a moment of purity.
“Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Chase.”
“Well, duh!” The little boy squeals, arms in the air, spinning around to show me my name on his back, his whole body shaking with excitement.
Erin giggles from behind me, and once again, her laughter centers me.
“I’m Riley,” he says grinning at me.
“Hey! Riley is my middle name.”
Riley lets out a whoop.
Interacting with fans, especially little ones, has always been one of my favorite parts of the job. I always try to give them time if they spot me, regardless of who I’m with or where I am.
After the accident, I thought if kids approached me, I’d have a hard time dealing with it, but I found it’s one of the only hockey-related things that doesn’t make me choke with emotion or sweat ridiculously.
I listen to Riley tell me how he’s going to play for The Tornadoes one day, and then I chance a glance at Erin. The most beautiful girl in the world is watching me, awe glimmering in her gaze as I sink down to my haunches.
After everything I just shared with her about my accident, Elliot, and Jack, I wonder what’s going through her head.
She’s nervous by nature, and I already know apart from Bella that she doesn’t have many friends. She’s wary around guys—that much is clear from how she was at Hendrick’s Bar—but these past couple weeks she’s starting to relax more.
It’s how I want her to be when she’s around me. Because, lately, her smile and laughter are what’s getting me through the day. I want to keep spending time with her, in whatever capacity I can.
“Okay, Riley. Let’s get back to our campsite. Say goodbye and thank you to Mr. Harper,” his dad says. Riley gives me a hug and waves at Erin, who waves back, and then they walk in the opposite direction.
“You made his day. He’ll have stars in his eyes for months,” Erin says as we pick our pace back up and turn left on the trail. We’re near the back entrance of Huxley Bay Park now.
“Fan interaction with kids has always been fun for me. Some athletes hate it, but most hockey players are cool with it,” I explain as we descend down a few concrete steps that lead to a large black gate. Erin pushes it open and closes it behind me once I’ve stepped through.
Her phone buzzes in her back pocket. She stops to pull it out. When she lifts it to check her messages, her eyes brighten, an exhale of relief escaping her.
“Good news?” I ask her.
She’s beaming as she says, “Ink and Print sent me the task.”
“Bookworm, that’s great,” I say with a grin as she scans through the email before putting her cell back in her pocket. “Tell me about the task.” I point at the empty bench that’s just a little farther up from where we’re at.
She hesitates.
“Distract me. Please?" I ask.
We settle on the bench. “They’ve given me four chapters of a book,” she half says, half squeals. “I have to come up with a planto help promote it.” Her hands fly around her face as she shares the ideas she’s considering. The diamonds in her eyes sparkle with every new thought.
She’s a vision.
“What’s the book about?” I ask as I twist so that I’m facing her.
