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Head coach here felt like more than just a job. It was a chance to help lead a community, and even more than that, it was the backdrop to something I hadn't anticipated.
A knock rattled the door as I leaned back, letting a wave of relief wash over me.
It creaked open, and Hoss's head peeked through. "Hey, can I come in?"
My pulse thumped in my ears, and I knew it wasn’t due to stress this time. “Sure, close the door," I said, and as he did, the atmosphere in the room changed. I wanted to shout, laugh, scream, and maybe even dance with Hoss. Instead, I let a broad smile spread across my face.
He settled into the chair across from me, looking at me with a hint of confusion in his expression. He looked like he was about to speak, but I beat him to it.
"I turned down the NHL offer," I said, watching him closely.
His eyes opened wide. He blinked fiercely. Finally, he found his voice. "Really? You're staying?"
"Yeah, I am."
I continued, “I’m glad you’re here because I wanted you to be the first to know. The team won't hear about it until the official announcement tomorrow."
Hoss leaned back in his chair, chuckling softly. For a moment, I saw the young, hungry player I’d met, admired, and, yeah, cursed so many years ago.
"Well, damn, Pete. That's some news worth celebrating."
I leaned forward and reached my hands across the desk in an open invitation. "Let's celebrate then. Just the two of us, what do you say?"
Hoss’s grin deepened as he reached out and wove his fingers together with mine. "I say let’s do it."
* * *
An hour later, we tucked ourselves into a private booth at a low-key bar in a town about fifteen miles from Cold Pines. It was far enough from our usual hangouts to keep the celebratory evening under wraps.
A dim candle flickered on the table between us as I raised my glass. "To staying."
"To staying," Hoss echoed, and our glasses clinked together.
"So," Hoss began as he sipped his Coke. "You were a bit distant yesterday. Had us all guessing. We thought you were taking the NHL offer.”
I hesitated for a moment. "No, that wasn’t the reason, at least not how you’re looking at it.”
Hoss raised an eyebrow, inviting me to continue.
“I was scared yesterday,” I confessed. “I’d already decided. I was staying here, but I feared what I was turning down. Would I regret turning down what most would say was the chance of a lifetime?”
“Yep, I bet some guys will think you’re off your rocker,” Hoss grinned.
“You know, this place has something special—authenticity. The game here is, well, untarnished. Or it’s as close to that as you can get in the world of professional hockey. I didn’t want to lose that.”
I paused, letting the words settle before adding more. "And I was distant because, beyond the game, my relationships are growing here. Connections I never saw coming, but I didn’t want to lose. Yesterday, I wasn’t completely confident that I could make that phone call to NHL headquarters and say no, so part of me still feared losing what I have here.”
Our eyes met again, and I felt the electricity jump between us. I suspected it was nothing new. It was there the first time we tangled on the ice. The difference was we were both letting it flow unimpeded. We’d set our flaming egos aside to focus on each other.
“So, you're really staying, huh?" Hoss asked, setting his glass down.
I didn't answer with words. I couldn't. Instead, I leaned across the table, gazed into Hoss's eyes, and kissed him. It felt like a dam had burst or I’d swung a wrecking ball. All the walls came crashing down at once, crushed into dust.
Finally.
The clink of Hoss's empty glass on the table signaled the end of round two—his second Coke, anyway. He had been sober for almost a year, and I respected the hell out of him for it.
"Another round, or shall we take the celebration elsewhere?" I posed the question, already half-knowing his answer.
