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“That, that right there, is why you’re here, Holden. Why, one day, you’ll turn pro. Just don’t let your personal shit off the ice interfere with business on the ice. I know where that path leads, kid, and it isn’t pretty.”
“That’s why you quit, right? Because you couldn’t play without Dalton?”
He cut me a hard look, but his expression faltered when he cast his eyes over to the memorial seat placed in honor of Dalton Benson.
“Hockey was our dream. It didn’t feel right to go after that without him.”
“He’d have wanted you to play.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t do it. But I like to think he’s proud of my work with the team.”
“I’m sure he is, Coach.”
“Now, want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“Not really.”
“Fair enough. But you come to the game tonight ready to win, okay?”
I nodded. Because he was right, I couldn’t let life off the ice interfere with my performance on the ice.
“Okay, hit the showers. And Noah?”
“Yeah, Coach?”
“The Lakers isn’t just a team; it’s a family. You need to talk? We’re here.”
“Thanks, Coach.” I swallowed over the giant fucking lump in my throat as I skated off the ice and headed for the locker room.
Wishing it was that simple.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Connor jumped on my back, almost sending me crashing to the ice. But Mason and Austin were there to catch me, the four of us, high-fiving and whooping so hard it was impossible not to grin.
It was only an exhibition game, but nobody wanted to lose the first game of any season. Even one that didn’t count toward conference rankings.
“You were on fire,” Austin slapped me on the back. “Play like that for the rest of the season, and the championship is ours.”
Connor caught my eye and gave me a small nod of understanding.
He’d seen Aurora in the crowd. We all had. But no one else understood what it meant to me. Well, maybe Aiden and Mason suspected, but neither of them had explicitly asked about it, and I’d offered no explanation.
She’d come to support us, and the second I found her sitting between Ella and Harper in one of her oversized sweaters wearing a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, it was enough to light a fire under my ass and play some of the best damn hockey I’d ever played.
“Gather in,” Coach Tucker called. “That is how you do it, gentleman.” A cheer went up around him. “But the hard work starts next week. Everyone knows opening weekend sets the tone for the season. So I want you to work hard in practice and focus on each game as it comes, okay?”
“You got it, Coach,” Aiden said, taking his role as captain and spokesperson for the team very seriously.
A couple of us smirked at him, and he discreetly flipped us off.
“Okay. Get out of here and go celebrate. But not too much. The season is upon us, and I expect you all to be on your best behavior from here on out.”
Everyone grumbled their agreement as we headed off the ice to the locker rooms. But I couldn’t resist the urge to look back to the glass one last time.
Only Aurora was gone.
And with it, my short-lived good mood.
“Is it always like this?” Ward asked as we sat in our usual booth at The Penalty Box, watching a group of puck bunnies put on quite the show as they danced to the heavy beat.
