Page 84 of The Mistake

As I strip my gear in the locker room, I realize I’m not the only one who’s frustrated. Far too many surly faces surround me, and even Garrett is surprisingly silent. As team captain, he tries to offer encouragement after every practice, but he’s clearly starting to get discouraged by the dismal state of our team.

The only guy who’s actually smiling is the new kid Hunter, who received so much praise from Coach for his performance today that he’s going to be shitting out lollipops and kittens for weeks to come. I have no clue how Dean managed toconvince the guy to join the team—all I know is that my buddy dragged Hunter to the bar one night after tryouts, and the next morning, the kid was on board. Must’ve been some night out.

“Logan.” Coach appears in front of me. “Come talk to me after your shower.”

Shit. I quickly search my brain for anything I could’ve done wrong on the ice, but I’m not being arrogant when I say I played well. Dean and I were the only ones even trying out there.

When I enter Coach’s office thirty minutes later, he’s at his desk, wearing a somber look that heightens my agitation. Fuck. Was it the dropped pass at the start of practice? No. Can’t be. Not even Gretzky himself could have held on to the puck with two hundred pounds of Mike Hollis ramming him into the boards.

“What’s up?” I sit down, trying not to reveal how rattled I am.

“Let’s cut right to the chase. You know I don’t like to waste time on preamble.” Coach Jensen leans back in his chair. “I spoke to a friend in the Bruins organization this morning.”

Every muscle in my body freezes up. “Oh. Who?”

“The assistant GM.”

My eyes nearly bug out of their sockets. I knew Coach had connections—of course he does, he was in Pittsburgh for seven seasons, for fuck’s sake—but when he said “friend” I assumed he meant a lower-level minion in the head office. Not theassistant general manager.

“Look, it’s no secret you’ve been on the radar of every scout since your high school career. And you already know I’ve had inquiries about you before. Anyway, if you’re interested, they want you to come in and practice with the Providence Bruins.”

Jesus Christ.

They want me to practice with the development team for the Boston fuckingBruins?

I can barely wrap my head around it. All I can do is stare at Coach. “They’d want me for Providence?”

“Maybe. When they’re interested in taking a look at you, they don’t usually put you on the ice with the big boys. They test you out with the minor team first, see how you do.” His voice rings with intensity I rarely hear off the ice. “You’re good, John. You’re really fucking good. Even if they choose to develop you inProvidence first, it won’t be long before you’re called up and playing on the roster youdeserveto be on.”

Christ. This can’t be happening. I’m in the Garden of fucking Eden, salivating over that goddamn apple. The temptation is so strong I can taste the victory. This isn’t justapro team holding out the apple—it’stheteam. The one I grew up rooting for, the one I’ve fantasized about playing for since I was seven years old.

Coach studies my face. “With that said, I wanted to check if you’ve reconsidered your plans after graduation.”

My throat goes drier than dust. My heart races. I want to shoutYes! I’ve reconsidered!But I can’t. I made a promise to my brother. And as big of an opportunity as this is, it’s not big enough. Jeff won’t be impressed if I announce I’m going to be playing for a farm team. Nothing short of a plum contract with the Bruins will convince him to let me have this, and even then, he’d probably still balk.

“No, I haven’t.” It kills me to say it. Itkillsme.

From the frustration shadowing Coach’s eyes, I can tell he senses that. “Look. John.” He speaks in a measured tone. “I understand why you didn’t opt in. I really do.”

Other than my brother, and now Garrett, Coach is the only other person who knows I didn’t enter the draft. In that first eligible year, I pretended I’d missed the deadline to declare, which led to Coach dragging me into this very office and screaming at me for forty-five minutes about what an irresponsible idiot I am and how I’m wasting my God given talents. Once he calmed down, he started muttering about calling in favors to try to make me eligible, at which point I had no choice but to tell him the truth. Well, some of the truth. I told him about my dad’s accident, but not the drinking.

Since then, he hasn’t harassed me about it—until now.

“But this is your future we’re talking about,” he finishes gruffly. “If you pass this up, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life, kid. I guarantee it.”

Yeah, no guarantee needed. IknowI’ll regret it. Hell, I already regret a lot of things. But family comes first, and my word means something. To me, to Jeff. I can’t go back on it now, no matter how tempting this is.

“Thanks for letting me know, Coach. And please thankyour friend for me.” I swallow a lump of despair as I slowly rise to my feet. “But my answer is no.”

“Areyou sure this is what you want?”

Grace’s soft voice and timid expression make my chest ache. I don’t know why she bothered asking me that, because obviously this is the last thing I want to do. It’s what Ihaveto do.

Although I went straight to her dorm after practice and wasted no time telling her about my talk with Coach, now I’m kinda wishing I kept it to myself. I told her about my plans for the future a few days after we started dating, but even though she hasn’t said it out loud, I know she disagrees with them.

“I didn’t want to say no,” I say roughly. “But I have to. My brother expects me to move back home the moment I graduate.”

“What about your dad? What doesheexpect?”

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