Page 36 of Ice Dance Hockey

“What’s this?” I say.

“Sorry, my idea. I hope you don’t mind. I wanted to see Stanley’s first skate. I thought Merc could do a quick skate around at the end and we could snap a few pics for the Gram,” Jack says.

My heart sinks into my gut. I was looking forward to this because I wanted to spend time alone with Jack. He wants to make memories with his new family, not with me. Still, I can’t say no to him.

“Of course.”

Logan shakes his head, tisking at me. I can read his mind.Pathetic.Yeah, I know I’m pathetic. If he ever falls in love one day, he’ll understand. Until then, he’s got no right to judge me.

“Lo, catch,” Mercy says. He tosses a set of keys to Logan.

Logan frowns, but then his whole world lights up. Wow, fucking stunning. I didn’t know it was possible to make him as happy as he is now. “I get to drive your Harley?”

Harley? Aren’t those things dangerous?

“Yep. Jack brought the baby in the van so you can leave your stuff in the locker room, and we’ll take it home for you. You’re welcome to stay, of course, but we thought you’d like to take off.”

The hero worship bleeds off him. “If I stay, can I still drive this home?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, just let me grab a jacket. I should stick around and make sure the littleItisn’t only influenced by barbarians on the ice. Maybe it will grow up to be an ice dancer.”

“Over my dead body. Stanley is named after the Stanley Cup. He’s already got a full head of hockey lettuce. He’s gonna be a hockey player,” Jack says.

I clear my throat. “As much as I hate to interrupt your little family dispute, I’d like to get my ice time in. Some of us take our hockey careers seriously.” Yeah, I’m a jerk, but I’m annoyed and hurt. This was supposed to be for me and Jack and now it’s been hijacked by Meyers.

“Okay, Rhett. I’m comin’. Show me, Elkington. What do I need to know to be just like you?” Jack says, beaming his golden retriever smile at me.

The way he says Elkington restores my hope. It’s definitely his fond tone. “Come with me.”

I pull a net out from where they’re stored on the other side of the rink. I suggest a few drills, some from the coaches and trainers last season and others from the current private trainer I’m working with.

“Sounds exhausting,” Jack says. “Which means they’re all probably effective. You’re on, Elkington.”

Jack is an exceptional hockey player. I’m willing to admit he’s as good as I am. He’s usually humble about it, except for when he’s on the ice. That’s when his competitive nature comes out.

“Let’s do best of five for the battle drills,” he suggests.

“What’s at stake?”

“When I’m the best of five, I get to rub it in your face, Elkington,” he says.

“If you think you can beat me,” I say. It’s implied that I’ve been playing against the top in the league for two seasons.

“Willing to try,” he says, bouncing the puck off his stick like it’s a hacky sack. “It’ll be extra hard for you with no goaltender.”

He thinks so, eh?I love you, Jack, but I’m going to bury you.

We position ourselves ten feet from the goal crease. I’m defense and he’s offense for the first round. The added bonus that I get to attack him and therefore be close to him isn’t lost upon me.

“Go!” he says.

I crash into him and grapple for the puck. Jack … Jack’s learned some new moves. He’s faster, too. Before I have the chance to do much, he’s swung around me and sunk the puck into the empty net, skating away to celebrate his goal. He looks to Mercy for the praise, which he gets in spades. Meyer races down the steps with a hand to the back of his baby asleep in the carrier and Jack instinctively skates over, whispering things to him.

I burn rage at them.

Logan emerges from the dressing room wrapped in a heavy jacket—he gets cold, noted—and devises what’s going on. He gazes my way to laugh. Clearly, Mercy’s coaching Jack.

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