Page 85 of Arresting the Hockey Player
Abbi looks horrified. It doesn’t help that every other word out of the coach’s mouth is a swear word. My father should have been a sailor.
I tried covering her ears initially, but I’ve since given up. It’s pointless. I’d have to put earplugs in her ears for her not to hear the remarks coming from his mouth.
It’s intermission which at least means no cursing. Or rather, if he is swearing up a storm, he’s doing it in the locker room with the guys. Abbi and I don’t have to hear it.
“Do you think they’ll sign my jersey?” Abbi asks, staring up at me with bright eyes.
I love the kid. She’s my favorite student I teach hockey to, not that we’re supposed to have favorites. But the kid is not only a natural in terms of athletic ability, but she’s cheeky.
Abbi is wearing an Ice Dragons jersey, specifically Kyler Greyson’s number. There’s zero chance she’s getting a Bruiser’s autograph on that jersey. My father kept throwing me death daggers when he saw the little girl with me.
He probably assumed it was for work or some volunteer youth program. He’s not crazy enough to worry that I hid an eight-year-old kid from him.
“I don’t think they look too kindly on the rival team,” I say.
“No, I meant the cool team. The Ice Dragons,” she says and points at their bench. Their players are slowly coming back from the locker room, and I lock eyes with Noah.
Well, I notice him. He’s staring in this direction, but I’m not sure he knows I’m at the game. It’s foolish for me to think that he can spot me in the crowd.
A young boy, who at first glance might be in high school, but I realize he works for the Ice Dragons, approaches us. He’s wearing their logo on his collared shirt and has black slacks on. He’s much more professionally dressed than the fans tend to be.
“Hey, the boss wants to speak with you.”
“And what if I don’t want to talk to him?” I ask.
He grimaces and shuffles his feet. I’ve made him uncomfortable. “I’m just an intern trying to do my job. Please, come with me.”
Abbi’s brow furrows as she folds her arms across her chest. “We don’t go with strangers,” Abbi says.
I rest an arm on her shoulder. “That’s right, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere without my protégé.”
“That sounds fancy,” Abbi says, grinning up at me.
“She can come too, but you guys better hurry. The game is going to start soon.”
I grab my bag, and we follow him through the stands and around until we reach the team.
“Who’s this young lady?” Kyler asks.
Abbi’s eyes widen and she spins around, showing him her Greyson jersey.
“The girl knows talent,” he quips, grinning and proud that she’s a fan of his.
“This is Abbi,” I say, introducing her to the team. “She’s one of the kids in the hockey camp where I coach.”
“You coach hockey?” Malone asks, clearly surprised.
“I like hockey, sometimes I’m not fond of the player, but I like the game.”
“Burn!” Abbi says and snaps her fingers.
Noah smiles at her. “I bet someone around here has a marker. Coach, can we get a permanent marker for the kid’s jersey?” Noah quips.
“I want Kyler Greyson to sign my jersey,” Abbi announces.
“I was going to suggest all of us sign it,” Noah says and throws his hands up in the air, “but if you just want Greyson’s signature—”
“All of you?” the squeal of delight comes out with a fit of giggles as she has trouble holding herself still. “For real?” She relents and begins jumping up and down.
