ChapterEight
Noah
Another full week passes before I get to see Morgan in person again.She had lessons all week, and I was busy with work and practicing on my own; now that the game is a month away, the team has officially begun practicing together, drilling plays, practicing passes and one-timers, scrimmaging, and dialing in our teamwork.
We text each other frequently throughout the week.Mostly just catch-up stuff, small talk, and harmless flirtation.It's something, and it's better than nothing, but she fills my every waking thought and most of my dreams.
I wake up hard and sweating, with the feel of her ass in my hands and the taste of her on my lips.I dream of her hands digging into my chest.I daydream about her mouth on mine and fall behind on my paperwork.
"Dad?"Noel's voice startles me out of just such a reverie.
I jolt, realizing my fingers are on my lips and I'm grinning like an idiot.I clear my throat and straighten.“Yeah.What's up, Noel?"
He drops heavily into a chair opposite me—he's always been like that, collapsing into a chair or onto a couch as if he just can't hold up his own weight anymore."Looked like you were thinking hard and hardly working."
"And that sounds like you're mixing metaphors."
He waves a hand dismissively."You looked good in practice yesterday.Those five a.m.skates are paying off."
"You didn't come in here to tell me that."
He grins."Nah.But it's true.Your speed iswayimproved, and so is your stickhandling."
"Thanks, Noel.Means a lot, coming from you."
"Because I'm your son or because I'm a pro?"
I shrug."Both.So.What's up?"
"Thoughts on Adam Juarez?"
I consider what I've seen in practice thus far."Great team player.Great passer.I wouldn't feed him the puck, but he's a defenseman."
As I say this, I hear a knock on my door frame; it's Adam himself, a rival for Noel in size and build, if not bigger in the chest and shoulders."Definitely don't feed me the puck,” Adam says.“I’m always trying to get rid of the damn thing so I can go hit someone."He grins, leaning against the frame.
"Adam," I say."What's up?"
"I wanted to run something by you."
Noel taps my desk with a knuckle."You can slow down the extra sessions now, by the way.Game's less than a month away, and the last thing I need is you pulling a muscle or something."
"I'll take it easy.”I pause, eye him.“I’ve got a pot of chili in the crock pot at home, if you wanted to stop by for a bite with your old man after our shift."
"Can't say no to that chili."He exits my office.“Talk later."
I jut my chin at Adam."So.What's up?"
"I grew up in Ketchikan, as I'm sure you know."I nod, and he continues."My cousin works at a bar there—Badd Kitty."
I snicker."That's what it's called?"
He nods, smirking."It is.They've actually got a few locations in Alaska—two or three in Ketchikan, one in Anchorage, and even one in Hollywood if I’m not mistaken.Whatever."He waves his hands."Not important.What I'm getting at is the owners got wind of the game somehow and got word to me through my cousin that they'd like to be sponsors, if it's not too late."
"For real?"
He nods."Yes, sir.I used to drink at the Kitty after my shift all the time.They're great folks.Goddamned colossal family.It's a family business."
I shrug."Okay, sure.Jim is in charge of that.Jimmy Tanner."
