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Chapter15
Hoss
Ipushed open the door to the weight room, and there he was—Eddie, our rookie sensation, cranking out reps on the bench press like his life depended on it. The kid was a marvel, not even twenty, and he’d built a magnificent machine, his body. It had a design for speed with enough upper body strength to add a hit of lightning to his slapshots.
"Hey, kid," I called, setting my gym bag down. "You mind some company? Need a spotter?"
Eddie racked the weights and sat up, wiping his forehead with a towel. "Sure thing, Coach. Could probably go a little heavier with your help.”
I walked over and stood behind the bench, hands hovering near the barbell as he resumed his set. He pushed those weights like it was child's play, but with a spotter, he could safely head to the failure point.
"So, what's your story?" I asked casually, looking for an opening. “I don’t think we’ve talked about that before. Obviously, you've got this talent, but everyone has something that drives them. What pushes you?"
Eddie completed another rep before saying anything. "Ah, you know, it's the usual 'small town kid with big dreams' kinda thing. Only, my folks were dead set against it."
"Against hockey?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised, as I helped him rack the barbell back in place. “You’re from Vancouver originally, right? Aren’t kids there born with a puck in the crib?”
"Yeah," Eddie laughed as he sat up and took a gulp of water. “It’s a great place to grow up playing hockey, but my parents were really protective. Especially after we found out I had diabetes. They tried to build a bubble around me.”
I snorted. "Hockey is many things, but a bubble it ain't."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "That's what I keep telling them. One of their best friends is a school coach, and he tries to convince them I’m safe and all. But, you know, sometimes I do wonder…"
"Wonder what?"
"If I'm tough enough for all this." Eddie looked up at me, his expression showing some vulnerability.
I smiled back. “Eddie, you don't get tough by dodging challenges. You were born tough enough. You just gotta find that grit inside and unleash it."
He nodded as if digesting a new piece of invaluable information. "Thanks, Coach. I'll keep that in mind."
We moved on to deadlifts, but that brief moment stayed with me. Eddie had what it took; he just needed a little nudge and wisdom from someone who'd been around the block a few more times.
After we finished up in the weight room, I was buzzing with nervous energy, the good kind you get when you know something big is coming. I glanced at the clock. It was late, but not too late for what I had in mind. I grabbed my skates and stick and headed to the ice.
The arena was nearly empty, but not quite. There, at the far end of the rink, was Pete, gliding around cones he'd set up, lost in his own world of drills and dekes. It didn’t surprise me. We had the biggest game yet coming up, and he had to think it all through.
"Hey!" I shouted as I stepped onto the ice. "You up for a challenge?"
He looked up, and his eyes lit up when he saw me. "Always."
We faced off at center ice, and the moment the puck dropped, it was like electricity zapped through me. Pete and I were always in sync, but this time, somehow, we took it to the next level. Every feint, every poke check, every shot and save—we pushed each other to our limits and loved every second of it.
It was like we were back in our player days. The gray at my temples was gone, but so was our rivalry. It was all fun now, and we’d both end the night as winners because we had each other.
After a blistering set of back-and-forths, I managed to steal the puck near the blue line. I faked left, then sped right, my eyes meeting Pete's for a split second before I snapped the puck past him into the net.
"Score!" I yelled, pumping my fist in the air.
Pete skated over, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice shot there. You know I never could congratulate you when we were rivals. It feels good to do that now.”
I blushed. “Aww, thanks. I love that.”
We stopped, just for a moment, both catching our breath. And there it was—that electric charge, that never-ending magnetic pull drawing us together.
"Hoss," Pete said, his voice suddenly serious, "I've got something to say, and I can’t hold it back any longer.”
"Say what?" I skated in a circle around him.
