Page 95 of Icing the Play

“You played a great game last night. The time off was good for you.” Pieterick patted my back. “Sometimes, resting the body strengthens us.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I sucked in a deep breath. Hopefully, last night wasn’t a fluke.

“Cummings?” Coach Henderson’s voice boomed through the hallway.

With my stomach tying in knots, I swallowed and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Come with me.” A smile broke out on his face, wrinkling his kind eyes.

“Sure.” As I threw a quick glance at Neuman and Pieterick, I said, “See you all later.”

I jogged back the way I’d come and ducked into the conference room.

Across the long table, a man in a black suit worked on his open laptop. His ice-blue gaze flicked to mine when I entered. “Myles Cummings?” He stood and held out his hand. “I’m Brad Lockwood, offensive line scout for the Seattle Kraken.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” I rounded the table and gave his hand a firm shake.

“We’ve got your agent on the phone here, too.” Coach Henderson took a chair opposite the scout while Coach Finley, our offensive line coach, smirked at me while sitting next to Mr. Lockwood.

I dropped in next to Coach Henderson. “So, my knee is even better than it was.” I winced. Way to start it off.

“I noticed in the footage.” Mr. Lockwood typed. “Since you gave me permission, I reviewed the doctor’s reports. Your progress is amazing, according to your trainer.” Mr. Lockwood glanced between my coaches. “One goal and an assist last night. It’s on par with where you’ve been the rest of the season.” He typed on his laptop and then his gaze landed on me. “I know you’re from BC originally.” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you like the rain?”

With a smirk tugging my lips, I said, “I don’t mind it. But living in the desert these last few years, I’ve grown pretty fond of rain.” Why wasn’t he asking me about hockey? “Guess you always want what you can’t get a lot of.” Now I was being prophetic?

With a quick laugh, Mr. Lockwood said, “Yeah, I guess so.” He gazed toward the conference phone speaker centered in the room. “You said he was levelheaded. I see that.” He peered at me. “You were part of the squad here and I know many of your friends play with the Coyotes. I want you to know we've implemented a very similar policy for handling queer players in the Seattle organization.”

I nodded. “Oh, that’s uh…good.” Threading my hands on the table, I took in calming breaths.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” He studied me.

Why was he asking that? I pursed my lips. Might as well tell them the truth. “I do. He’s a football player here. Cooper Hayes.”

Mr. Lockwood’s brows snapped up and my coaches shifted in their chairs.

“He’s an excellent player in his own right.” Coach Finley eyed me. “He’ll be heading for the draft this year.”

“He will.” I tightened the hold of my fingers. “Wherever we go, we’ll work things out.” I probably shouldn’t tell them about his father putting in a word for him with the Seahawks. “If things work out and you sign me, Mr. Lockwood, it won’t be a problem.”

“Good, because you’re a great fit for next year’s offensive line and I’m not worried about the knee.” Mr. Lockwood set his elbow on the table and rested his cheek in his hand. “I’m thinking about inviting you and Neuman to our development camp.”

“Really?” I tipped forward, my heart soaring. All I needed was a chance.

With a light chuckle, he said, “Yes, really. I have some specific skills I want to see out of you two in tonight’s game. Play with the skill you’ve shown this year and I’ll be in touch.”

Through the speaker, Dean said, “Thank you, Brad. Cummings has a lot of heart and I’m sure you’ll see it out there tonight. He’s more than just a highly skilled winger.”

I stared at the speaker. He felt that way about me? Holy hell. Maybe I should have believed what the guys told me all these years. Though if I had, would I have worked as hard to get where I was? “Thank you, Dean, and thank you, Mr. Lockwood.”

After discussing logistics and going through some questions I’d had, I headed to the locker room for our pregame warmups.

Late in the game,we were up by a goal and feeling pretty good about getting our W against Providence. I sat on the bench next to Neuman, waiting for another turn on the ice. Bouncing my leg, I chewed on my mouthpiece. The players on the ice ran the puck back and forth and weren’t getting anywhere. There was plenty of time for Providence to score and tie this game.

Neuman leaned in. “I’d be happy as shit to play with you in Seattle, man.”

“Yeah?” I glanced at him. I’d never thought about his feelings. “Me too.” He’d come a long way this year as well. “We’d make a great team, eh?”

“Hell yes. But don’t get any ideas about me turning gay. I won’t pull a Rowan Mackenzie on you.” He sniggered.

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