Page 38 of Ice Dance Hockey

“Merc says it’s better for you to have fast hands rather than muscling Jack out of your way. I don’t get that. You’re you. You’re massive. Jack’s a decent-sized lug too, but you’ve got quite a bit of size on him.”

“Mercy’s right. Want me to show you why?”

“Won’t you lose?”

“I might, but having you see that hockey does require skill and isn’t just a zoo of gorillas would be a win of its own.”

His eye roll is exaggerated. “It’s gonna take a lot more to convince me of that. But if you want to throw your shot that’s up to you. I heard Merc say that you have faster hands than Jack.”

“I do.” My voice bleeds with all the confidence in the world.

He shrugs and he’s gone again, but I note that he’s already using hockey terminology. I want him to learn more, and I know I can count on Mercy to explain what I’m doing.

I’m offense again and this time I use my shoulders to knock Jack away from the puck, knowing it’s not my best defense against someone like Jack. He uses his quick hands to knock the puck wide, but this is when I switch strategies and reach for the puck with my stick at lightning speed. It hits nice and solid with the curve of my blade and then it’s all lightning hands McQueen from there.

The puck sinks into the net, and the first thing I do is check in with Logan. He’s already racing down the steps with his skate guards clicking against the metal stairs, his face alive with another idea. “Okay, I’ll admit, Merc helped me with this one, but after that, now I want to see you do this.”

We go well beyond the originally declared five shots and don’t get any other drills in by the time we reach the last minutes of my ice time. Jack’s beaming ear to ear even with exhaustion creasing his face. “That was awesome, Rhett. Totally kicked my ass. We havegotto do that again. Should we make this a weekly thing?”

He wants to do this again? It was hard to get him out this once and now he’s ready to sign on for weekly sessions. My world brightens with new possibilities. “Yes. A weekly thing. Done.”

Mercy skates onto the ice with the baby. Right. The whole “Stanley’s first skate and pictures” thing. Mercy hands Jack his phone and Jack snaps pictures and videos. Logan removes his skate guards and glides onto the ice.

“They’re so gross,” he says.

I couldn’t agree more. “Why did you stay?”

He runs a hand through his hair in a way that says he’s disgusted with himself. “FOMO, I guess. They’re becoming this little family. It’s getting in the way of … never mind.”

It’s getting in the way of his plan. I recall what Mercy said. Logan’s finally found the rock he’s been looking for and he wants to hang onto it. He views Jack as a threat. He couldn’t be more wrong, though. Jack’s not a threat to Logan’s place in their ever-blossoming family dynamic.

Something’s missing from Logan’s face. His smile. I reach out to pull him to me until I realize what I’m doing, but I’ve gotten used to our closeness and the private club we formed since I stepped onto the ice with him this morning. Hell, I’m already used to putting my hands on him with ease and comfort.

Like he’s mine.

But there’s no one here for us to pretend for.

“Lo!” Jack calls.

I snatch my hand back.

“Let’s get one with you and Merc and Stanley. Promise you don’t gotta touch the baby.”

He acts reluctant, but I know better. He skates away, and I accept the small win I gained this morning. And it looks like he has too, placing a hand on the baby’s back as he leans toward big brother Mercy for the picture.

Chapter8

Logan’s Birthday

Logan

It’s Saturday.

I’m all kinds of nervous about this family event—the one they’re having just for me. Birthdays in the past were me, Mom, and a cake. If she remembered. The year she got me my motorbike was pretty sweet, though. She won it in a bet.

The house is busier than usual. Merc’s throwing the event here instead of having Bea do it. I don’t know why. She seems better at that kind of thing than he and Jack are. Jack’s parents are coming too, which is freaking me the fuck out, but even I have lines I won’t cross, as far as how big of a dick I’ll be. Jack’s likely paying for some of this party and telling him not to invite his family seemed wrong.

I like to wear whatever I’m in the mood for. Today I’m going with tight black jeans, my Metallica concert tank, and a stark red bandana tied around my forehead. I outline the rims of my lower eyelids with inky black eyeliner.

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