Page 140 of Ice Dance Hockey

“Nope. Man up and do it, Elkington. Don’t let him do it first. I know it’s not supposed to matter but Logan needs that.”

That’s something that needs to be done in person, and now that’s all I’ll be thinking about for the rest of training camp.

* * *

Coach’s whistle rings in my ears. “More hustle, boys. Time to work off all that off-season pizza!”

I didn’t even get to enjoy much off-season pizza. The very idea sets off thoughts of what Logan would say about pizza, and I smile. Jack nudges me.

“Stop thinking about your boyfriend, Elkington,” he jokes, laughing.

Guess I’m obvious, but I don’t care. I’m in love and for the first time, I want training camp over with so I can get to my man. Coach’s drills are relentless, and the ones from the assistant coaches aren’t too nice either, but we’ll be in shape for the first exhibition game and that’s all that matters.

The final whistle blows, freeing us for the day. I scrape myself from the ice, looking forward to Logan, sleep, and a hot bath. Jack zips past me and exits the ice before I do. How does he have energy left? I guess it helps that he didn’t join me at the gym this morning.

“Anyone ever tell you that’s annoying?” I call after him.

“Mercy. All the time.” I get the back of him as his skates claw into the rubber flooring, taking him away from me.

“Elkington, a minute of your time if you don’t mind?” Coach says.

It’s the last thing I want to do, but I pull whatever energy I have left out of my ass. “Everything, okay?”

The ice has emptied except for the members of the coaching staff, dismantling the drill stations and collecting pucks.

“How’s your father?” Eddie asks.

Right. Mercy’s been using Eddie to keep an eye on my father. He helped them last time Father interfered by making sure Jack had a place on the team. So, why’s he asking me? Shouldn’t he know?

My skin prickles.

Up this close, Eddie’s five o’clock shadow and wrinkled eyes betray his casual smile. Guess he’s not getting much sleep this training camp either.

“Honestly, Coach? Our family’s going through a rough time. It’s not something I can give details about.”

He rubs his chin and then his eyes darken. “Is he giving Jack trouble again?”

“No. He’s been quiet on that front.” Too quiet. Even the last I checked in with my PI team, they’ve had nothing to report. But my father knows about my team and could theoretically have taken precautions to hide from them.

Eddie’s hands don’t know where to put themselves, and he fidgets. My brow knits together and there’s an uncomfortable stirring in my stomach. “Spit it out.”

“There’s no easy way to say this—I know about your parents’ divorce because?—”

Shit.

“You’re the guy.” That’s the only way he could know. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” It would be easy to let rage take over—there’s plenty of it around—but I can’t afford to be hasty.

“We didn’t do anything behind your mother’s back,” he says.

“I know. That’s not why I’m angry.” Mother can take care of herself. If Father had cheated on her, his nuts would be in a jar over the mantle place. “How could you sleep with the enemy?”

He raises a sly eyebrow. “You’ve seen him haven’t you?”

My teeth grind. I will not punch my coach in his perfect jaw. “He’s my father.”

“Right, sorry.Sorry.” He holds his hands up. “Is he … okay?”

“Arrrgh.” My stick snaps over my thigh and wood flies, freeing my hands so that I can slam Eddie against the boards. His feet scramble for purchase and his hands flail until they catch onto my thick arm for balance. “What the hell is going on, Eddie?”

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