Page 61 of Risky Pucking Play
"Holy shit." Reese sits beside me. "That's... interesting timing."
"It’s like the universe is offering me an escape hatch."
"Are you going to take it?"
I stare out the window, considering. "I don't know. It would solve the Nate Barnes problem I currently have."
"But?"
"But I'd be leaving my dad in the lurch. He brought me in to help build this mental health program for the Blades. Leaving after just a few months..." I trail off, the guilt rising in my chest.
"He'd understand," Reese says gently. "Especially given the circumstances."
"Would he though? First I compromise my ethics by sleeping with one of my clients, then I bail on him entirely? I don’t know…."
Reese refills our wine glasses, handing mine back to me. "Look at it from his perspective. If you stay, you're in an impossible situation. There's tension and awkwardness. Wouldn't it be cleaner for everyone if you made a fresh start somewhere else?"
"I need to think about it," I say, taking a long sip of wine. "It feels too big to decide right now."
My phone buzzes with a text from my dad.
"Hope you're okay."
Just three words, but they make my chest tight. He's reaching out, showing concern rather than judgment. It's subtle but meaningful—Dad's way of saying he's not angry, just worried.
I text back a quick "I am. Thanks." Then add, "How's the team doing?"
"This would be so much easier if I didn't care about anyone," I groan, flopping back against the cushions.
"But that's the whole point, isn't it?" Reese curls her legs under her. "You care about your dad. You care about Nate. You care about your career. That's why this is hard."
"It just feels like no matter what I choose, I'm letting someone down."
"Welcome to adulthood, babe." She clinks her glass against mine. "Sometimes there are no perfect choices. But we can get pretty damn close if we try."
“I’m so lucky to have you, babe. You always make me feel better.”
“Aww, I love you and I want you to be happy,” she says, squeezing my hand.
Later that night, Reese turns the Blades game on and glances over at me, trying to read my expression.
"You okay with watching this?" she asks, settling beside me on the couch. "We can find a rom-com instead if this is too weird."
"No, it's fine," I lie, reaching for a handful of popcorn Reese brought out. "I want to see how they're doing."
Howhe'sdoing, is what I really mean.
The camera pans across the ice as players warm up, taking practice shots. I scan for Nate's number 89, but don't see him among the blue jerseys.
"Maybe he's just not on screen," I mutter to myself, leaning forward.
The announcer's voice fills the cabin: "The Blades looking to bounce back after Tuesday's tough loss to Dallas. They'll have their work cut out for them tonight against the Jets, especially with Barnes out of the lineup."
My head snaps up. "What did he say?"
Reese looks equally surprised. "Barnes is out? Did they say why?"
We both listen closely as the commentators continue.
