Page 15 of Coaching Prince Charming

As we walked out, the evening air washed over us. It was still warm, but it carried the air of coming fall. Carter briefly ran his hands over his biceps.

“Are you cold?” I asked. “Maybe you should go home instead.”

“And miss the party? Nah, I’m good.” Even so, I quickened my pace to get to the Thinker sooner.

I had been there once, almost a year ago, after Beckett had kissed Caden on live television and in front of the crowded rink. Seeing it had felt like getting punched in my stomach. Oh, I was proud of my nephew for his courage, but the moment still shamed me. I hadn’t had the balls to do anything like it. Two twenty-year-olds had so casually reached out and made their dreams come true when I never could. Despite all the influence my name carried, I’d always been too cowardly to take what I wanted.

“What are you thinking about?” Carter asked softly.

“The weather.”

He chuckled, clearly seeing that I lied. “Wanna talk about it?”

I shot him a warning look, but he only bumped into me like we were playing. I scrambled to find a distraction. “I knew you’d be great if I pushed you out there.”

“Please.” He waved his hand dismissively. “I wasn’t that great. Actually, I was terrified of fucking up.” He glanced at me as if I would scold him for foul language. There was still some of that kid left in him, which was a sobering thought. Unintentionally, I veered a little to the left, making more room between our bodies. Carter continued after a heartbeat. “Asher did great. And Beckett.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Carter,” I said. “You’re way more talented than you admit.”

He said nothing, but his gaze was on my face for so long that I looked away. After a long silence, he said softly, “You showed us some real coaching tonight, Nate.”

I rolled my shoulders in a hesitant shrug. “Eh, I was having fun doing this.”

“Maybe it’s not all that bad,” he suggested. “Maybe you do have a purpose in doing this.”

“And maybe you do, too,” I said.

He winced. It wasn’t subtle, but it wasn’t forced, either. When he next spoke, his voice was tighter. “I don’t think I have a choice.”

That made me halt, and Carter stopped just as abruptly, turning to me but looking down. “Do you dislike it so much, Carter?”

“I keep telling you,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

By instinct, I grabbed his upper arms, feeling the heat of his bare flesh on my hands and my own guts twisting with feelings I wasn’t supposed to have. “Carter, nobody can force you to do anything.”

“Think again,” he said, lifting his head defiantly. He took a small step toward me, and my body froze. I didn’t move back now when he was despairing, but my muscles screamed for me to create some buffer between us, some zone of safety. “Would you believe me if I told you I had no control over my life? It’s a little like getting injured and your life changing around it. It’s just that my injury isn’t physical. It’s my dad’s plans for me.”

It was my turn to wince. The phantom pain slashed through my collarbone. “What are you saying, Carter?” I let my hands drop from his arms now that I felt like an appropriate amount of time had passed.

“I’m saying that everything I do was planned by someone else.” His tone was flat and tired. “College, hockey, gym, and practice. I don’t have a say in where my life is headed.”

“These are good things, Carter,” I said, then immediately regretted it.

“You sound exactly like him,” Carter said sulkily. “They’re good for you, maybe. But nobody’s ever asked me if I wanted this, Nate. You never asked me, either.”

I licked my lips to buy myself time. My heart was beating faster, and my palms were growing slick with sweat. “I assumed…” My voice trailed.

Carter closed his eyes. “That’s right. Everyone assumes.”

“Carter, I didn’t realize how strongly you felt this,” I said carefully.

Carter bit his lower lip and lowered his head, shooting me a look from under his eyebrows. His brow creased as his eyebrows dragged up, and he shook his head. “The thing is, I can’t tell that to anyone. Dad wouldn’t listen. The other guys are shaping their lives around hockey. Fuck, man, you’re my coach, and you’re still the only person I can admit this to.” He shuddered. “I feel like a fucking traitor.”

Part of me wanted to hug him and tell him he wasn’t a traitor, but I couldn’t trust myself to do that. I couldn’t trust myself to be near him. He was already digging into my private life — by accident or design — too deep. If I hugged him, he’d either misinterpret it or worse. What if I couldn’t control myself at all?

“There has to be a way,” I said. “Look, you convinced me. It wasn’t that hard. Dana will listen.”

Carter shot me a skeptical look. “Dana will not listen, Nate. You two drifted apart for too long. You don’t know him like I do. Me being here is all he ever talks about. He doesn’t call me to ask how I’m doing. God forbid we mention my piano. All he wants to know is if you think I’m good enough.”

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