Page 100 of Melting the Ice

“It’s not,” Brody said, even though it kind of was. There was a reason he hadn’t felt comfortable asking his advisor.

He was already sick of people saying,but what about hockey?even though it hadn’t happened yet.

But it would.

“I’m just exploring my options,” Brody continued defensively, when nobody said a word.

“Well, of course you can’t play hockey forever,” Tish reasoned.

“What if—” Brody broke off.

And then there was that touch again, against his leg. This time Brody knew Dean’s touch wasn’t accidental, but entirely on purpose.

It was just a single reassuring brush of his fingers against his jean-covered knee, but it gave him the courage to keep going.

“What if I don’t want to play hockey after college?”

Brody had half-expected his parents to come around to the notion fairly easily. After all, they werebothdoctors. They’d encouraged him to take the biology major, even though most of his teammates thought he was crazy for attempting it.

His mom took a very long sip of wine. “Let me make sure I understand you,” she said softly, but directly, “you want to go to medical school instead of playing pro hockey?”

“Is it your knee? I know Hauser was supposed to be the best, but—”

But Brody didn’t let his dad get the rest of the question out. “It’s not my knee. My knee is fine.” That was the simple answer, at least. The more complicated answer—the answer he wasn’t sure they’d understand, was that his injury last spring had opened doors in his mind that he’d never explored before.

Without hockey, he’d felt himself looming over a black hole of depression. Not wanting to get out of bed. Wanting to let the frustration swallow him whole. He’d had to find something else he really loved that wasn’t hockey, and it had been so easy for that to be school and science because he’d already loved them, and it turned out that love had only needed air and room to grow, to really blossom.

“Then what is it?” Tish asked, clearly mystified.

Dean bumped his knee again, and that was the only warning Brody had before he spoke up. “I think it’s cool that Brody’s exploring his options. He’s such a smart guy. Caring and thoughtful. And he’s lucky, too, that hehasoptions.” Dean didn’t need to say thathedidn’t. The subtext was clear enough.

Brody gave his parents credit. They both listened to what Dean said, nodding in understanding, but then Tish turned to him again. “But youloveplaying hockey.”

“I do, but I think I don’t love it quite enough.” He didn’t love it to the exclusion of everything else. Not anymore. His world hadopened, he’d gotten a peek at another future, and he didn’t want to just shut the door on it.

Dean’s hand brushed his knee again, but this time it didn’t move away again. It stayed. A firm, welcome pressure, grounding him. Reminding him.

You want different things than you did, and that’s okay.

“Huh,” Roger said. “Well, if that’s true, then I’m glad you’re talking to us, Brody.”

“I wouldn’t talk to anyone else,” Brody said wryly.

“We support you no matter what,” Tish added.

The waitress arrived back, and they ordered, Brody not even paying attention to what he picked out. He was too edgy, even with Dean’s hand on his knee.

“Well, about med school.” Roger sighed, and Brody had a feeling this wasn’t good news. “You’re probably about a year behind on the prereqs. You’d need to take another year of school, at least. Some additional classes.”

That jived with the rudimentary research Brody had done on his own, late at night when he was feeling wild and free, like he could doanythingand it wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass.

“Okay,” Brody said, nodding.

“Or, possibly some kind of gap year. Taking a few classes to supplement your application. Studying for the entrance exams.” His dad shot him an apologetic look. “There’s no question if you’re smart enough, Brody, or if we think you’d be a good doctor or not. It’s just surprising. Feels like this is coming out of left field.”

“Probably because I’ve been afraid to bring it up,” Brody admitted.

“And that takes guts. To buck what everyone assumes you’re gonna do,” Dean said, those green eyes steady and supportive as they gazed at him.

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