Page 56 of Blindside Me
My gut twists.
Daniels.
The assistant coach who works directly with the defensemen. With me.
“It was me,” I admit, voice low. “It’s been me for a while.”
The room falls silent. Even the muted TV can’t cut the tension. I can’t sit here anymore. I stand too fast, my muscles locking up as I try to play it cool.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asks. “It’s almost eleven.”
“Rink,” I say, grabbing my duffel. “Need to work on my wrister.”
“You already practiced twice today,” Easton points out. “Morning skate and team practice.”
“Not enough.” I sling the bag over my shoulder like it’ll carry the weight pressing down on me. “Glove side’s weak. I need to fix it.”
Ryan and Easton exchange a look, and I pretend not to notice. It’s the same look they gave each other when I stayed an extra hour after practice yesterday. And the day before that.
“Drew,” Ryan says, his voice low. “You’re chasing ghosts, man.”
“I’m not trying to fix everything.” Just one thing.
Just her.
Jade did me a solid by forcing me to take time away from the sport. It worked, too. For a few hours, it was just the two of us, her and me, and paint. It was therapeutic.
It didn’t last.
“Sure feels like you are,” Easton says. “And if you keep this up, it’s not just your shot Coach will notice.” He pauses. “He’s gonna figure out who’s got your head spinning sideways.”
That lands hard because he’s not wrong.
And if Coach Howell finds out what I really want … I’m done. Not just benched. Branded.
“Can’t afford the time off.” I dig out my car keys. “Three NHL scouts at the game next week.”
I don’t give them time to answer.
I slam the door behind me and step into the night air. I head to my car, letting the quiet settle my thoughts.
But they land on one.
You’re already enough. You just don’t believe it yet.
And maybe that’s the problem.
I finally do believe it.
I can’t lose the person who made me see it.
Not now.
Not before it’s too late.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Jade
