Page 60 of Melting the Ice

“Brody,” Zach said carefully, “you gotta think about what you want.”

“I’m trying,” he retorted. Annoyed that they were putting him on the spot.

“You say the right things, and you’re out there every day on the ice, putting the work in, but I gotta wonder if your heart’s in it,” Coach said. His tone was gentle, but the admonition was there.You gotta do more than just show up, kid.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. He didn’t knowwhatto say.

“I want to keep my options open,” he finally said. “The truth is, honest to God, I don’t know what direction I’m gonna take, so the last thing I wanna do is close the door on something I might actually want.”

“Good. Actually, I was hoping you’d say that.” Coach looked approving, and then to Brody’s surprise, he glanced behind him again, at Zach.

Zach’s pose was relaxed, but Brody realized as he stared at the guy that was all surface level bullshit. He wasn’t tense, exactly, but he was glancing over at the back of Coach’s head, all the time. Like he was keeping an eye on him.

Maybe it was that Coach Blackburn had beenhiscoach, when he’d played hockey for the Evergreens. Or maybe he was worried about Coach B cracking up again, since this was his first job after the death of his wife had left him grieving and lost.

Brody didn’t knowwhatthose looks meant, but he did know they were at least a distraction from the something in his stomach that still felt like crawling away from this whole conversation.

“Were you really?” Brody couldn’t help the question.

“Actually, I trynotto be a tough guy,” Coach said, his tense expression cracking neatly in half to reveal a surprisingly kind smile. “Right, Zach?” He glanced back at himagain.

“Of course not,” Zach said, and he was gazing right back. Did all assistants and head coaches look at each other this much and he’d missed it? Brody didn’t think so. The only time he ever looked at someone like this . . .

Brody cut that thought off hard and fast, though he did think, and consider saying,Just come and stand next to him, it’d be easier than giving your neck a cramp by turning to look at him every five seconds.

But he didn’t, because while Coach Blackburn might’ve revealed himself as sympathetic, he wasn’t necessarily soft or the joking kind.

Zach they could poke fun at, a little, because he was still in his twenties and very much still a hockey bro.

But Coach was different. The whole team knew that.

“Yeah,” Zach agreed. “You’ve got the skills, Brody. You’ve got the raw material, and even more than that, I’d argue. You’re skating well. Your instincts are getting better. Other than the slight setback of the knee, you’re right where the ’Canes want you, and in a few years, who knows? Maybe you’ll end up on their roster. Maybe sent down to the developmental league for a year or two. But the potential’s there.”

“But not if you don’t want it. Not if you don’t put that extra effort in, the kind of effort that doesn’t come from your brain,” Coach added, shooting him another one of those hard-ass looks.

Brody didn’t ask where it came from, because he already knew, and he wasn’t sure yet if he had it.

But he’d find out, because it was looking like he didn’t have much of a choice.

Either he dedicated himself, or he should call it quits.

“Listen, though, Brody . . .” Finally Zach walked around the side of the desk and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “Take the year. Figure your shit out. You were always gonna come back for your senior year, right?” WhenBrody nodded, he continued. “Then spend this year figuring out if you want to be a pro hockey player, and then next year, all you’ll need is to take that last little step up and you’ll be there. I do expect though, that you’ll keep working like youdowant it. We don’t accept less here, in Portland. Alright?”

Brody looked over at Coach, who didn’t seem either surprised or bothered by Zach’s declaration.

“You’re okay with this?” he asked, because he couldn’t help it. He needed to know.

Could he take the year?

He’d thought he’d have weeks, maybe, not months. And that didn’t solve the problem, but it sure made it a hell of a lot easier to deal with.

“Zach wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t,” Coach said, his voice steady. “But if you phone it in—”

“I wouldn’t,” Brody interrupted.

“But if youdo,” Coach continued with a suddenly grim tone, “then the next conversation won’t be so easy, okay?”

Brody nodded. “Okay.” He could accept that—or at least, he was gonna have to.

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