Page 53 of Sporting Goods

He’s ready.

The puck dropped and the tryout game started. I didn’t think either of us realized that our hands were entwined, and we both gripped each other every time Jax made a move or the puck would fly in his direction.

I had an uncontrollable urge to be down there with him. Like a guardian angel on his shoulder. Not just to give him pointers but look out for him.

Something sharp tugged at my heart at the thought of him getting hurt. Ever.

18

It was so comforting havingLogan here with me. It almost felt normal. Like we were a family. I groaned internally. If only life had turned out differently and it was Logan all along.

The whistle blew and the tryout was over for what felt like the longest game in history. I couldn’t wait to pull Jax off the ice. He was on the bench now talking to some peers.

Logan went to ask about the selection and came back up to me.

“What did they say?”

“It’s too soon. They’re going to post them tomorrow morning after the coaches discuss it.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or irritated at the fact we wouldn’t find out today.

Logan was grinning. “But don’t worry. I think there was no question about him.”

He seemed awfully sure. “I don’t know, there were a lot of talented kids on—”

“His name was already on the preliminary selection.”

“What?”

“I saw it on the coordinator’s desk. His name was already on it. And some other kids’. But that's a great sign. If out of twenty kids they chose two off the bat without discussion.”

I raised my brows.

He frowned. “Hey do these guys know you work with the NHL? Not that I think that would sway anyone, but just curious. It does seem odd his name was already there.”

I just shook my head in response. Fumes were steaming up my ears and head. I was going to be sick with anger if what Logan was saying held true.

Absolutely livid.

“Give him a fighting chance, Max,” I mumbled in the growing loud crowd.

A few minutes later we reached Jax and congratulated him on a job well done. Assuring him that he did well enough to make the team and we’d check it together the next day.

He asked to play with the others for a few minutes. I gave him ten before I’d haul him home for dinner.

“Thank you for coming today,” I told Logan when we were alone.

He smiled. “Thank you for letting me.”

His smile was infectious, and I wanted to hug him. It must have shown—how much I wanted to touch him again because of the look he was giving me.

He took a step closer. “God I want to kiss you right now.”

“Rayne,” a familiar male voice called from a few feet below the top bench where we stood.

I recognized the voice. A friend. Or so I hoped. It was hard to know who to trust these days.

“Josh.”

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