Page 40 of From Fling to Ring

I drive the kids from one end of the ice to the other for the next fifteen minutes, and when Lawson announces it’s time to wrap, I leave them exhausted, trying to catch their breath, wondering what the hell just happened.

I’d say Lawson could go a little harder on them, but then I’m not the coach. I just follow his lead as the man in charge. I’m just an occasional treat.

“Everybody, let’s hear a big thank you for Tyler,” Lawson calls.

His request is followed by a chorus of thank yous, see ya next times, and you nearly killed mes.

“You guys will thank me later,” I yell over my shoulder as I skate for the boards and toward the beautiful woman waiting for me.

20

TYLER

Lucy comes down from her spot in the stands and greets me with a smile, and damn if she isn’t adorable, with a scarf thing tied in her curly blonde hair. I give her a quick kiss on the lips. No need to further fuel the craziness of the kids.

“Hey, what’s that you’re wearing?” I ask, pointing.

I can see she has a hockey jersey on, I can’t tell which one, but with her down puffer over it, it makes her look like she’s ready for a trek to the North Pole.

She unzips her jacket and opens it, beaming broadly.

I try to catch myself, but I’m not fast enough. She totally sees me wince.

“What?” she asks.

“That’s not my jersey.”

She frowns. “What do you mean? Why was it in your drawer with a bunch of other shirts?”

“Lucy, this is from another team, a Canadian one. Did you not happen to notice it doesn’t say Aftershocks anywhere on it? Nor does it have my number, twenty-seven?”

“Oh. Oh,” she says, pinching the shirt at her waist and pulling it out to get a look at it. “Well then, what is this?” she asks, pointing at the logo on the front.

“That’s for the team whose jersey it is. Their logo.”

She crinkles her nose. “I thought it was… I don’t know, like a corporate sponsor or something.”

“Nope. It’s another team.”

She’s still confused. “What are you doing with a shirt that’s not your team’s?” She leans closer and lowers her voice. “Did you steal it?” she asks quietly.

My headache officially touches down and I make a note to find an aspirin, stat. “No, Lucy, I did not steal another team’s jersey. Sometimes after a game, the guys swap shirts.”

I can nearly see the thoughts spinning through her mind. “Sooo… I wore the wrong team’s jersey, is what it boils down to, huh?”

She’s so defeated, I wish I’d kept my big mouth shut.

She pulls her puffer back on and zips it up to her chin. “I… I thought would be nice to show up here to watch you with the kids in one of your jerseys.”

And… I’ve embarrassed the hell out of her.

Now that I’m past my initial surprise, I think the whole thing is cute as hell. In fact, I can’t keep the smile off my face.

She nudges me hard. “Don’t laugh at me, jerk.”

That does it. I burst out laughing, catching the attention of anyone who happens to be left in the rink. Lucy tries to scowl but ends up joining me.

“I’ll never forget the day Lucy showed up in the wrong team jersey,” I announce to no one, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her to me. “Oh, babe, don’t worry about it. It’s fucking hilarious.”