Page 93 of Edging Coach
“Oh my God,” I said through my laughter. “If you’d told me anyone else did that shit, I wouldn’t believe you. A goalie, though?”
“Right?”
We both chuckled and continued watching the All-Stars.
And I was way too happy to think about what would come after this week was over.
CHAPTER 26
DEVON
The final game of the All-Stars went into overtime at 3-3, and ultimately went to a shootout. It was Vancouver’s Karim Khoury who finished things off, breaking the stalemate with a gorgeous backhand. He was awesome to watch. He’d been drafted first overall, and while some top draft picks fizzled, he’d been blowing expectations out of the water for five seasons. Watching him killing it at the All-Stars was both unsurprising and impressive as hell.
God, I’d do anything to play with him. To protect him.He was also super cute, likely super straight, and I wasn’t a Vancouver IceHawk.
Yet.
“We need to go to bed.”
Jack moaned. “But…post-game analysis.”
“You want to play tomorrow?”
“Well, yeah.”
I eased away from him. “Good night’s sleep. Glad we moderated the beer.”
“Why? Well, I mean hangovers suck?—”
“Yep. Clear heads. Especially for what I have in mind.”
“You won’t give me a sneak peek?”
He pointed to the beers on the coffee table. “I don’t play after either me or my partner has consumed mind-altering substances. Some people play. That’s a choice. Even though pot’s legal in Canada—and of course we’re both over eighteen—I’m not risking mixing play with shit that messes with your mind.”
“You drink beer.”
“Never more than two. Never when I’m driving. Never when I might be playing. Like I said, not everyone has my rules. I just know what I am and am not willing to do. I might take risks on the ice…but not in my personal life.”
“Does this have to do with your mother?”
I blinked.Shit. “Yeah, to a certain extent. I mean, obviously her ALS wasn’t caused by any lifestyle decisions she might’ve made. Just the fucking genetic lottery. I’ve been tested, by the way. I don’t have that gene.”
“Thank God.” He whispered the words.
“Yep.”
He ran his hand through my hair—obviously thinking I needed soothing.
He wasn’t wrong.
I swallowed. “But yeah, my caution around alcohol is connected to my mother. She always made it clear that she was proud of me. But that if I stayed sober and achieved my dreams, she would be even prouder. And she didn’t mean making it to the big league. She meant finding happiness in whatever path life took for me. She hinted once that having a partner would be nice—because that would mean I wasn’t alone. But then she’d counter that being alone was fine if I learned to take care of myself. She taught me cooking, cleaning, and anything else she could.”
“Did she saypartneror did she saywife?”
I smiled. “Always partner. I didn’t come out to her. She was really sick by the time I was able to articulate who I was. But she never slapped a gender on future partners.”
“She knew. Or she was just being open-minded.”
