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“Well,” he let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’ll make it awfully hard to catch up, and I’m going to be here a while.” He gestured to his foot, almost like he was trying to earn sympathy points from me. “Also,” he gave me sly grin, “your dad said I wasverymuch welcome here.”
I scowled and was about to say something back, when Greyson Scott interrupted us.
“Hullo guys,” he grunted. He had shades on, probably because he couldn’t take them off seeing as he was carrying his toddler on one hip and a hockey bag over his opposite shoulder. His Underarmour t-shirt outlined his impressive muscles, and his sleeve tattoo was also on full display. Even though Duke had filled out nicely, Grey still looked like he could snap him in half, and I liked that humbling little fact for him.
I dropped my skating bag and immediately went to take Gracie, his toddler, from him. She was going on a year-and-a-half now, and I’d babysat her ever since she was born. “Hi, Graciegoo! How are you?” I cooed at her.
Gracie smiled happily and let out a string of gibberish and Grey regarded her with a proud smile.
“Hey, Claire. Mind watching her for a bit? Jules is on her way with Canyon. We’re swapping kids. Gracie just had swim lessons, didn’t you baby!” he said more to her than me. “And Canyon’s coming back from baseball.”
I twirled Gracie around, making her collapse against my chest in a giggle fit, and I couldn't help but smile so hard my face felt like cracking.
When I turned back to Grey, I arched an amused eyebrow at him. “Baseball?” Everyone at the rink knew that Canyon lived and breathed hockey. The kid was like a walking stat book for every player in the league. If he didn’t make it there himself one day, he’d surely make a great coach.
He smirked. “Yeah, Jules made him try it out because she doesn’t want him to think hockey is the only sport in the world, even though it definitely is in his mind,” he chuckled. “He’s not enjoying it though and it’s a fight to make him go, so I doubt it lasts much longer.”
“I bet you’re all torn up about that.” I rolled my eyes playfully.
He tried to keep a straight face but failed. “I mean…”
“Wow,” I laughed. “Well, I get it. If someone would’ve made me or Addie try anything else, we would’ve rioted. That’s nice she’s showing him he has options though; probably takes the pressure off a bit.”
Many rink kids never got the chance to play any other sports because coaches absolutely hated it when they missed practices for anything else. But as a coach, Grey was trying to change things up a bit for the next generation, and he never forced kids to choose one sport over the others.
Grey turned his attention to Duke then, who was watching him with a very confused expression.
“How ya doin, kid?” Grey asked him. “I caught the replay. Sorry ‘bout that.” He gestured to his leg, which Duke had taken off the ledge now. He had it practically touching the ground next to his other foot, almost like he was trying to hide the fact that he was injured.
Duke grimaced. “Yeah, wish they’d replay one of my goals as much as getting hurt.”
Grey cracked a smile at that. “Understandable. Well, the kids’ll all be pumped to have you here. Doubt Canyon will be as impressed with a retired fart like myself now that you’re in the building. You’re a favorite around here.”
Duke’s mouth dropped open, then he quickly recovered. “Thanks, that means a lot. Canyon…?”
“He’s my son,” he said proudly, “and this here’s my daughter.”
Duke looked slightly confused still.
I lightly cleared my throat and shot him a glare that said I’d fill him in later. I had to take pity on him. Something in me– something very small– still felt the need to help him out.
“Hey, you alright?” Grey leaned closer to him, and I wondered what the heck he was talking about. Of course he was alright, he was sitting right there, totally fine.
“C’mere,” Grey ordered him to move forward in the chair. Duke hesitated but did as he was told. Grey held his jaw, looked into his eyes, and frowned. When Grey let go, he quickly patted his shorts before locating his sunglasses again and handing them over to him. “You’ll want these in the rink because it's way too bright in there for the concussed.”
Duke looked a little agitated. I knew it was because he was annoyed with being hurt and having to baby himself– that was a feeling all athletes knew. But I immediately felt slightly bad for not knowing he had a concussion. The way he reacted after he fell down on the ground earlier kind of made a bit more sense now.
“Bright lights still give me headaches sometimes,” Grey added.
Duke’s face transformed into pure worry.
“Don’t worry,” Grey chuckled. “It’s not permanent, or shouldn’t be for you at least. I’ve just had many concussions. One won’t screw you up like me.”
“Oh… uh, thanks,” Duke responded.
“Alright, well, I’m heading back to lace up my skates. I’ll see ya out there? We can go over some drills we wanna run with the kids.” He cringed looking down at what Duke was wearing– a dry-fit Crewman shirt and athletic shorts. “Next time you might wanna wear sweats. The rink is a different beast when you’re just coaching; it feels about twenty degrees colder.”
“Uh… Okay, yeah,” Duke stammered.
