Page 18 of Falling for the Hockey Superstar

The rink feels different today.

It’s quieter, the usual roar of the crowd replaced by the hum of the cooling system and the occasional scrape of skates against the ice. I’ve been in this arena thousands of times, but standing here with Jake and Abby makes it feel… personal.

I steer them to the outside practice rink where we can skate as long as we want. “Ready, buddy?” I ask, watching Jake’s eager eyes widen as he grips his stick with both hands.

“Ready!” His grin is infectious, and I can’t help but smile back.

I crouch slightly, giving him a quick nod. “Okay, try that wrist shot again. Aim for the corner this time.”

Jake skates forward, his tongue sticking out in concentration as he lines up the shot. His form is getting better, more balanced. He’s determined, and I respect that.

“You got this, kid,” I murmur under my breath, watching as he pulls back and sends the puck toward the net.

Ping.

The puck hits the post. Close, but not quite.

“Almost!” I call out encouragingly. “You’re getting there.”

Jake’s face twists with frustration, and he starts to skate toward the puck to try again.

“Hey.” I glide toward him, keeping my tone light. “Wanna know a secret?”

His eyes light up. “A secret?”

I crouch down to his level, lowering my voice like we’re conspirators. “Even the best players miss sometimes. The trick is not letting it mess with your head.” I tap my temple for emphasis. “You miss. You reset. You shoot again.”

Jake nods, his determination returning as he grabs the puck and lines up another shot.

“That’s it,” I murmur softly, pride swelling in my chest.

Abby’s laugh echoes softly from the sideline.

I glance up to see her standing there, bundled in a cozy coat and scarf, her cheeks flushed from the chill in the air. Spotty sits patiently beside her, his tail sweeping back and forth on the smooth concrete as he watches Jake with unwavering focus.

“You’ve got a certain way with him,” Abby says, her voice warm and filled with something I can’t quite name.

“He’s a natural,” I reply, skating over to her. “You’ve got a future All-Star on your hands.”

Her smile is soft, but I catch the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes before she masks it.

“He loves it,” she says softly. “It’s all he talks about.”

“I can tell.” I lean against the boards, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off her despite the chill of the rink. “He’s got good instincts. And that focus? That’s not something you can teach.”

“Alright, Jake,” I call out after another round of drills. “Why don’t you take a few laps while I talk to your mom?”

“Okay!” Jake doesn’t need to be told twice. He zooms off, Spotty watching intently from the sidelines like a loyal coach.

I turn back to Abby, who’s watching Jake with that same faraway look in her eyes.

“You alright?” I ask gently.

She hesitates for a moment before sighing. “It’s just… sometimes I look at him, and I see Ethan. The way he skates. His determination. It’s like… he’s carrying a piece of his dad with him.” Her voice catches slightly, and I see the flicker of pain she tries so hard to hide.

“That’s not a bad thing,” I murmur softly. “It means Ethan’s still with him. With both of you.”

Abby’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see her walls lower just a little. “I know,” she whispers. “But sometimes… it feels like I’m walking a tightrope. Trying to let Jake hold onto those memories while making sure he doesn’t get stuck in the past.”

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