Page 58 of Unforgettable Player

They carry on chatting about Eli’s love life like I’m not even there. I bite my tongue before I beg them to stop.

Eventually I leave the room before I say something I can’t take back. I have to be at the rink soon anyway.

I get there a little early and start putting the cones out and making sure the nets are secured. While I’m out on the ice, I instinctively scoop up a few pucks and do some accuracy shooting, skate around, practice my stick handling. It feels natural, muscle memory taking over and relaxing into the familiar movements.

I don’t know how long I’ve been out there when Coach calls my name. He’s smiling, his hands in his pockets, watching me. “Looking good out there, Ryan,” he says.

I nod, my body flooding with endorphins at the compliment.

“The kids are showing up now. Thanks for getting everything ready.”

“No problem, Coach.”

We coach the kids through some stick handling, passing drills, and accuracy shooting. At the end of the lesson, we let them practice checking—within reason. They’re laughing their asses off and falling all over the place when Coach blows his whistle to signal the end of the lesson. I want to groan with disappointment right along with them.

After my shower, I check my phone, secretly hoping for a text from Eli. Anything would do. It doesn’t have to be romantic. As soon as I unlock my screen, I see a missed call from my boss instead.

I call it back and get an answer just as I’m about to hang up.

“Connor, my man, how are you?”

I clear my throat before I speak. It’s been a while since I’ve had to put on my sales voice. It makes me cringe the second I hear myself talk. “Gavin, I’m good. How is everything there?”

“Great. We’re missing you, though.”

My mouth gets dry at the thought of going back to California now. I’m not ready. Not when this thing just started up with Elliot and I’m enjoying coaching the kids.

Before I can say anything, Gavin jumps in. “Don’t worry, we’re not rushing you back before you’re ready.” He pauses and I wait for the one liner HR has probably drummed into his head. “Your mental health is important to us, Connor.” They might be capitalists, but they’re West Coast capitalists.

I have to hold in a groan when I reply. “Thank you.”

“So … what have you been doing? You don’t have to tell me⁠—”

“I’ve been helping coach a junior hockey team and catching up with some friends and family.”

“Great, that’s great! I went to an LA Kings game once with a client, it was … invigorating.”

I hold in my gag at the Kings mention and make all the right noises of appreciation.

“Who’s your team?” he asks.

“The Islanders have an affiliate team near my hometown, so I grew up watching them.”

“Cool.”

Fuck, this is painful, when is he going to get off the phone?

“Well … just wanted to check in, let you know that we’re here if you need anything. You got those resources Shoshana sent you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

If he’s waiting for me to tell him I used them, he’ll be waiting a long time. I’m all for therapy, but it’s not therapy I need. I need a fucking life transplant or a serious kick up the ass. After some more painful small talk, he finally says goodbye and hangs up the phone.

When Coach finds me, I’m sagged against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief over that awkward phone call being over.

“Everything okay, Ryan?”

I’m about to lie and tell him it’s fine when I see he’s giving me a genuine look of concern. Not pretending to care, like Gavin.