Page 28 of Power Play

“I see she told you our little secret. Her dads a sugar freak when it comes to Rory and doesn’t like a lot of sugar in the house. So I hide some over there for our slumber party nights,” Stella says with a chuckle.

“Guess that means he probably wouldn’t like my idea of getting them ice cream one night.”

“He’s tough, but he wants her to be happy, so he’d probably give in if she asked,” Stella says with a smile.

“I’ll ask daddy!” Ro says, before yawning.

“I better get this one home before she falls asleep, or else I’ll have to carry her.”

“Of course. It was nice meeting you. Get some rest, Rory. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a wave.

“Bye, Ms. Daniels.”

Finally getting ready to lock up and get out of here, I grab my phone and check it. Surprisingly, there’s a few new messages, some from this morning. Guess I didn’t do a great job of checking my phone today. Ignoring the ones from Cassie, I’m annoyed to see both my mom and Max have texted me.

Mom

Good morning, Sawyer. Sunday dinner this week? I miss you and I’d love to see you.

Max

Sawyer, stop being a child and avoiding mom because of me. She doesn’t have anyone else but us and you’re being selfish. You continue to make shitty choices and leave mom and I to deal with the fall out. Be at dinner this week.

Surprise, surprise. My brother trying to control me? Yeah, that tracks. I’m not sure what he really expects me to say to that. My choices don’t impact them at all, but they made it very clear that if I didn’t do what they wanted, or rather what my brother wanted, I wouldn’t be welcome in their home.

I decided to follow my dreams, fully aware of what it would mean for my relationship with my brother, and unfortunately, my mom who always follows Max’s word.

8

REX

Our season has only been going on for two weeks. Two weeks and the changes we’ve made are finally starting to pay off. After losing the first two games, we tried a couple of different things and now we’ve won the last four consecutively. The guys were initially pissed when we started making changes to the lines, thinking people were being punished for not being good enough, or whatever other bullshit excuse they came up with to throw a hissy fit.

The issue isn’t that the players aren’t good. In fact, Brooklyn University is known for having quite a few NHL prospects with some balls-to-the-walls players. The issue lies in their connection with each other on the ice. They can’t read each other correctly, resulting in players being in the wrong positions, not passing to open teammates for a shot, and failing to anticipate the need to be in front of the net for rebounds.

We played around with it, trying a few different approaches to determine which players had the best chemistry on the ice and could read each other the best. A lot of the boys thought I was trying to fixing something that wasn’t broken.

But it was.

Now that we’ve made some changes, we’re running a more streamlined version of the previous strategy. It’s not entirely different, just cleaner. Over half our goals have come from rebounds that our players were able to score on, whereas before there wouldn’t have been someone there to even attempt a shot.

As I sit at the bar with Trevor, drinking beer and talking about hockey, I’m reminded of old times. Which hits me with a strange combination of emotions. Part of me fucking hates it. We used to do this all the time until I got injured. I was different after. It changed me. Broke me down. I stopped hanging out with everyone, and no one wanted to talk hockey with me, except for Bernard. But he’s a stubborn motherfucker that I love regardless. The other part of me feels like I’m coming home. Like being back in this world has set everything right.

Guess only time will tell.

“So, remind me again why we’re out so early?” Trevor asks in the middle of eating his burger.

“My mom picked up Ro as soon as she heard I needed a sitter. My parents are watching her at their place this weekend. I guess Stella is going over too, sounds like trouble for my dad.”

“Oh, that poor man. Those three ladies in one place spells nothing but trouble,” Trevor jokes.

All I can do is glare at him over my beer, but he’s not wrong. It is fucking ridiculous. “You know how they get when they’re together. It’s irritating. They basically have one big girl party and ignore all my rules since I’m not there.”

“There are worse problems you could have. Besides, they all adore that little girl so much. It’s good for everyone to have some bonding time, or whatever bullshit they do,” Trevor says with a smile.

I know he’s right.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it.”

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