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I wanted it.
Fuck, it was all I’d ever wanted.
But going pro meant a lot of unknowns. A lot of time on the road. A lot of time away from Mom and Scottie. I didn’t know if I could do that to them, so I decided not to enter the draft.
Being a ninety-minute ride away was bad enough. If I turned pro, I’d be all over the country.
“Mason, son?”
“I love hockey, sir. And I want to win. I do—”
“But?”
“I have responsibilities back home. Obligations I can’t just walk away from.”
“You got a girl back home?”
“Fuck no. Shit, sorry.”
“You’re fine.” He gave a hearty chuckle. “So, no girl. Family stuff?”
“My brother, sir. He’s autistic. It’s just him and my mom, so I try to go home and help out as much as I can.”
“I can see why that might tug on your heartstrings.” He leaned forward. “But this is hockey, Mason. The NHL. It doesn’t get much better than that. And just think how much you’ll be able to change their lives when you’re cashing your first paycheck.”
I didn’t answer.
I didn’t know what the fuck to say.
Hockey had always been it for me. From the second I put a stick in my hand and skates on my feet, it was all I’d ever wanted. But then Scottie started to grow up, and we realized he wasn’t like other kids. Then our old man walked out, and I became the man of the house.
I became the one Scottie looked up to.
“I had it, Mason. I had it, and I lost it.” Coach Dixon’s expression clouded over with regret as he curled a fist against the desk. “We only get one life, son. Don’t forget that.”
There was something in his eyes, his voice. The way he stared right through me as if he was looking into his past. A past that haunted him.
I shifted uncomfortably on my chair. “Is that all, Coach?”
“Yeah, get out of here. But Mason, think about what I said. You’re good, kid. It would be a waste if you don’t see this thing through.”
I left his office with a heavy weight on my chest. He made it sound so fucking easy. But it wasn’t. How was I supposed to choose between what I wanted and what my family needed?
Fuck, I needed a drink.
“Hey, man, how’d it go?” Austin lingered outside the long hall leading to the coaching staff offices and media room.
“It was okay.”
“Okay?” He chuckled. “You just met James ‘The Real Deal’ Dixon. Tell me you didn’t get a little bit starstruck.”
“I… it was fine.” I shrugged.
“Jesus, Steele, you’re a tough nut to crack.”
“You going in there now?”
“Yeah. Figured might as well get it over with. See you at the house later?”
