Page 31 of Sporting Goods

“Yes, I want to apologize,” she managed to get out in one breath.

“For what?”

“I think I might have…” she rolled her eyes, “overstepped, yesterday.” She said the word tauntingly. Like it wasn’t hers. Someone had put her up to this.

I took three steps to stand across from her. This was going to be interesting.

“I’m still not following, you’re here to…”

“Say I’m sorry,” she spit out in one breath.

I grinned. No. I smiled. And it was out of my control. Because I didn’t do that. Not so…naturally.

I nodded. “Okay. Is that all?”

“Yes. I mean I still—I don’t—I can’t have you coaching Jax. I’m sorry.”

I shrugged. “Don’t apologize to me. Your kid is the one missing out.”

“He’ll be fine. I’ll get him one or two more lessons from one of the college kids who work on the team and he’ll be all set.”

What the hell is her problem?

Something told me I hadn’t quite cracked the code when I thought it was just about who I was. And I shouldn’t have cared. This wasn’t me. To care so much. Needing to know. I leaned in, my face closer to her than I intended. Closer than it needed to be. “What’s your issue? With me,” I added.

She didn’t back up like I’d expected. She shook her head. “I don’t think it would be the best use of your time.”

“So you’re only here because of a guilty conscience?”

“No.” She glanced down. And her tone changed. It held a…professional level to it. “I also wanted to say that your arm is just fine.” She turned to leave.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” she repeated, louder. There was a strong presence of confidence in her voice. She was sure of herself.

“Of course, there isn’t. And I don’t needyouto tell me that.”

She looked at me for a brief moment, as if she didn’t think I believed it, and I swore under my breath. It was bad enough I had to hear about it from doctors I didn’t bother calling back and my agent, who suspected as much, but not her too.

I pulled back. “You don’t want any more lessons, it doesn’t look like you’re buying anything, so please don’t hold up the line.” There was literally only one person waiting to pay and Tisch had it covered.

But I was done with this conversation.

12

Tuesday afternoonI was on call at the clinic, so I couldn’t get very far. Because if I knew Todd, he’d definitely be calling me before my on-call hours were over.

“Thanks for coming with me in case I need to run,” I told Sam as we sat on the bleachers watching Jax practice on his own after school.

Though truthfully, he was never on his own. I was watching. I never bothered telling him I knew more about hockey and skating than half these so-called coaches did.

But now that there was no steering him away from this heinous sport, I was stuck.

His pacing was good today—much better—could have been smoother though. Sprinting made me nervous.

Did I put enough padding on him?

“No problem,” Sam answered. “Although I wish you’d told me there were mostly kids and teens here, I was expecting some beefy gorgeous hockey jocks. You know, closer to my age…well not too close,” she winked. She took a sip of her hot chocolate as a bunch of kids in hockey gear flooded the other end. “So when are you going to tell him you blew his chances of getting on the team?” she nodded toward the kids.

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