Page 17 of Breaking the Ice
And it had beenyears.
“Isn’t that your job? To figure that shit out?” Hayes wondered.
Zach made a face. “Yeah.”
Hayes fell quiet after that, and Zach drifted in the pool, enjoying the sun and the water and the quiet companionship he always had with Hayes. But he still found it hard to force his mind to dismiss last night from his memory.
He wanted to hang onto it, to build a castle around it, to assign it a meaning it didn’t deserve.
Maybe heshouldtell Hayes. Hayes would set him straight. Tell him flatly that there was no future and he needed to get over it.
But before he could, Hayes turned to him. “Did you think I couldn’t handle talking about it?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Zach said, but it was mostly a lie.
“I saw the transfer,” Hayes said bluntly.
“Please tell me you don’t still have him on Google alert,” Zach said. “If you do, I’ll have to stage an intervention—anotherintervention—and we know how well that went last time.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Hayes grumbled.
“You ended up with some guy you didn’t even really like, who made you come out of the closet to prove some bullshit about how committed you were. And then he dumped you.”
“Thanks for that reminder,” Hayes said dryly. “And the answer isno, I do not have Morgan on Google alert. Or Finn, for that matter. A teammate told me.”
“A teammate who doesn’t know?”
“You forget,nobodyknows,” Hayes reminded him. “Just you.”
“And him,” Zach said, even though that was not exactly helpful.
“I don’t know, it was a long time ago,” Hayes said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. “Maybe he’s forgotten about it.”
Zach smacked him in the arm. “Don’t get all moody and melancholy, okay? This is why I didn’t bring it up—”
“So youweren’ttelling me,” Hayes said triumphantly.
“I can’t believe you,” Zach said. “Of course I didn’t tell you. You get all weird every time Reynolds comes up.”
“This is his son, and he’s transferring to the college you’re coaching at. Weshouldtalk about it.” Hayes glanced over at him.
“How is this any different than the Sentinels drafting him? You’re gonna have to face him someday.”
“Someday,” Hayes said knowingly. He didn’t need to add that so many things could happen to players in development. Finn might never make it to the NHL. Never make it to theSentinels. Hayes might never have to face the son of the man he’d fallen wildly in love with.
Zach shrugged. “Just like I said on draft night, what is there to talk about? I know you’re like—”
“Don’t say it,” Hayes interrupted him, his voice hard.
“Iknowyou’re fucked up about him. You always have been, even before, well . . .evenbefore. If you want me to talk about it, all there really is to say is that I have a feeling Finn’s just as fucked up about his dad.”
“In a different way,” Hayes said.
Zach rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?”
Whatwerethey going to do about it? Zach didn’t know yet. He knew how it felt to have expectations riding on you. He’d learned to balance that pressure, though not as well as others he knew. If he had, maybe he would’ve enjoyed playing professional hockey more.
