Page 15 of Three Pucking Words
“Well, considering we never knew he had a daughter, that’s probably a contributing factor,” I point out casually.
That gives Sebastian pause, as if he never considered it before, before shrugging. “True.”
“It’s none of our business,” I decide. “Let’s hope whatever issue they have is dealt with. I’m not sure I can handle another day like today.”
My friend knows me too well. His eyes go to my right arm. “Did the doc talk to you about your injury again?”
Making a face as I grab clean clothes from my locker, I let out a breath. “He suggested surgery, but that would mean sitting out for God only knows how long.”
“Only if you do it during the season,” he reasons, reminding me of our time off. Unfortunately, we’re about to start a strenuous schedule now that pre-season is coming to an end and the real one is about to begin.
That means risking even more damage than what’s already there in the tendons and ligaments, which could lead to permanent problems in the future. It’s a fear slowly coming to life. What if I’ll never get full movement in my arm? What if I’ll never be able to play with Gemma the way I can now? Or keep up with this career? I hate thinking about the what ifs that come with contact sports, but they’re always there lingering in the back of my mind.
“I’ve got a lot to think about,” I conclude with a heavy sigh. I roll my shoulder and wrist, wincing slightly at the pain shooting from one to the other. “I need to keep Gemma in mind.”
He pats my back in sympathy. “I’ll support whatever it is you decide to do. Always. If I were in your shoes, I’d be thinking of Beckham.”
His son’s name makes me sigh. Henderson would do anything for that little boy, so I know he gets it. He’s one of the few guys on the team who do, since most of them are younger than us with zero interest in being married with kids. Not that I was on board with it when it happened to me, but still. Gemma changed my life for the better, and now all I want is to do right by her.
Forty minutes later, I almost make a grand escape to my car when Coach Erikson calls out to me from where he’s standing beside his Mustang. “Hoffman, you got a minute?”
I want to tell him no, but Gemma’s grandparents have her tonight, so I’ve got nothing but time. Walking over to him, I adjust the bag I have over my shoulder and internally wince at the pain shooting down my arm. I hide that shit, though, because I don’t need Coach trying to bench me.
“What’s up, Coach?”
“I wanted to thank you for being kind to my daughter. Life hasn’t been easy on her lately, and I want her transition here to go smoothly.”
All I do is smile and nod because I don’t feel like him picking apart the lies I fed him when he asked how it went with Honor. I gave him just enough detail not to doubt me and left the rest up for him to assume.
He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, I know it’s a lot to ask, but we’re doing a family dinner tonight. Sylvia is setting it up. It’s supposed to ease some…lingering tension.” His eyebrow twitches. Almost to himself, he adds, “Things that I certainly haven’t helped over the years. Anyway, I could use some reinforcement. She said you two got along well.”
How much did Honor tell him? And what kind of lies did she spew that make me sound like I gave her the best tour of the city she’s ever had? “What kind of reinforcement did you have in mind, sir?”
Coach clears his throat. “I need you to come to dinner.”
I stare at him, trying not to make a face. Then I repeat what he said to make sure I heard him right. “You want me to come over for dinner?”
He dips his chin once.
“Just me?” I clarify, hoping he’ll tell me other members of the team will be there too.
He doesn’t. “It’ll be Sylvia, me, you, and my daughter. Honor doesn’t always do well in big groups. I don’t want to overwhelm her. We both know some of the team can be a bit much.”
And I can’t? Suddenly, I wish my reputation wasn’t so squeaky clean. “I don’t know, Coach…” I try to come up with a reasonable excuse, but he knows my schedule to a T, which means he knows I don’t have Gemma tonight.
The only other option would be telling him my arm is killing me, which it is after today. But I’m sure as hell not risking my spot on the starting lineup by telling him the truth. He wouldn’t hesitate from pulling me if it meant I got the proper medical treatment I needed.
“It would mean a lot to me, Hoffman. You know I don’t ask favors much, and you’ve always been trustworthy. I can depend on you.”
Son of a bitch.The man knows where my loyalty lies, and it’s with the team. Trust means everything to me and the boys. It’s one of our core beliefs. If you can’t trust your team, then you won’t be successful on the ice. There’s a reason we’re a well-oiled machine with the ranking to prove it.
“All right,” I relent. “What time?”
He clasps my good shoulder and squeezes once. “Thank you. I’ll send you the details. Plan for seven.”
Once I’m alone in my car, I stare out the windshield wondering how the hell I got myself into this.
And, more importantly, I wonder what Honor’s reaction will be when I walk into her father’s house like we’re BFFs.
