Page 69 of Unsteady

“Working on my Darth Vader impression.” I flirt, with an ease that reminds me of before. “How am I doing?”

She sighs deeply, something rustling like she’s settling against fabric. I picture her in bed, gray sheets that mimic the shade of her eyes.

“I don’t know; you haven’t said anything about being my daddy—I mean father.”

A laugh bursts from my chest, full and surprising and warming me entirely.

“I’m working up to that one. Too iconic.”

“True. Best to just focus on the breathing.”

There’s a quiet surety underneath the joke, enough that it almost feels like she’s pressing her hand right to my chest like she has before, calming me down while I hide in a musty storage

closet in full gear.

I must be silent for too long again, when she sighs into the phone again, not patronizing, but quietly gentle. Like blowing breath on my overheated skin.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Rhys?”

I want to ask her to say my name again, but I manage to hold it together, gnawing on my lips until I’m sure there’s blood.

“Yeah.” I shake my head, a chuckle escaping, reverberating in the room. “Yeah. Actually I have a game today.”

“Your exhibition game against Vermont.”

“Yeah.” I breathe. I love that she knows. “It’s right now.”

“You’ll be okay, hotshot. Besides Oliver, you’re the best player I know.”

I laugh, the conversational, relaxed tone of her voice soothing me. “That’s good company to be in.”

“I need you to go play your game and win so you can get back to the hotel room for me. Otherwise I can’t give you your surprise.”

“Surprise?” I ask, feeling a bit like a kid at how my heart kicks at the idea. Like she’s promised me ice cream to be a good boy.

And I’ll do anything she says.

“Yeah, but only if you hang up with me now. Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, but wait for her to click end.

She pauses and we’re both just breathing again. “Kick their asses, hotshot.”

I walk back into the locker room with a beaming smile on my face. The same smile that stays on my face throughout warms up. The caress of her voice playing on a loop in my head as I play my first game since the accident.

* * *

I don’t play much, just a bit with my first line.

Coach spends the majority of time letting the new kids get used to their lines. Holden and Kane play the most, clocking high ice times by the end of every period. The first couple of shifts, they’re a hot fucking mess, to the point that the assistant coach, Johnson, is close to ripping his hair out.

Every time they come back to the bench, Johnson leans over Toren’s hunched body and berates him. Holden picks up a few corrections, but it’s easy to see that Kane shoulders the blame for their terrible coordination.

It makes me smile.

Until Coach Harris jerks Johnson back by his collar, and takes over the defensemen coaching for the third period.

I hate how much it changes, the obvious difference once Holden and Kane learn more of each other’s patterns. The difference in Toren now that Coach offers him slight praise and useful corrections.

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