Page 9 of 50 First Skates

Corey smacks Dave’s arm.

“What? I didn’t say it’s a good thing the accident happened. Anyway, that’s it. Noah doesn’t live with them, but he’s been going over there every day when his dad leaves. When Soleil tells him where she’s off to, he puts in a call to let ’em know so they turn off the TV if they have a TV. Turn off the radio if they have a radio. So far, I think everyone in town’s been playing along, and Solly isn’t the kind of girl to talk to strangers.”

Thatmakes me feel kind of good.

Until I remember she doesn’t remember me from yesterday and that I can’t date her anyway.

The optics would not be good. I’m the new guy on the team. I not only have to build trust with the players, I have to build trust with Coach Barrett. He took a chance on me, hiring me even though I couldn’t get out of my contract right away. I owe him a lot. And then there’s the owners of the Comets. What would the Tanners think if they saw me banging my boss’s daughter as soon as I got here—afternotleading their team to victory? They wouldn’t see me as coach material once Barrett retires. I’d have to move somewhere else to advance my career. Start over again.

It sucks. But the truth is I’ve only known Soleil for a day. I walked away from the life I’d wanted for thirteen years and made the decision to move on. I can move on from her too.

NHL hockey isn’t as cute as Soleil is, though. I never spent even one hour imagining what it would be like to kiss NHL hockey. And the NHL doesn’t smell anywhere near as good as she does, that’s for damn sure. But I’ll reset.

On to the next shift.

4

SOLEIL

February 17th

Dear Diary,

There is truly nothing as revitalizing as a fresh, new notebook.

I wish I had better news to write about today, though. Today was kind of…off? A mixed bag. The good news is the best-looking man I have ever seen in my life walked through the door of Locally Forked just before I left this morning. The bad news is I heard Dave say he’s the new assistant coach of the Comets. So I didn’t have much time to stare at his gorgeous face and sexy leather jacket before finding out he’s off-limits.

Dean Rafferty. What a name! The weird news is that he acted like he knew me and he asked me if I wanted him to teach me how to skate. Which is so weird, because I have been thinking about learning to skate recently. But Noah’s hockey buddies were there, so I figured I might as well just leave it alone. And byitI mean his beautiful hazel eyes and strong jawline.

I did regret the way I treated him a tiny bit, but I figured Dad would probably be inviting him over for dinner at some point, so I’ll see him again.

Except I couldn’t stop thinking about him when I went for a walk at the park. It was a nice day. Pretty cold, but I could see little buds on some of the trees. When I passed by the outdoor rink, I thought about what that guy said about thinking we were supposed to meet there when it opened. And I thought,Well—shit. When have I ever met anyone that good looking before? Never? And why did I have to be such a little turd to him?

I figured I might find myself at the arena tonight, see if he’s playing a game with Dave and those guys. I would grab Jessie, and we could stop by there after getting a drink at The Penalty Box. I just didn’t feel good about the way I treated him. It didn’t reflect well on my dad or the town, now, did it? I felt it was my duty as the coach’s daughter to at least apologize for making fun of him. And also I really wanted to see him skate. And by that I mean I wanted to see what his butt looks like while he’s skating.

And then the craziest thing happened. I randomly decided to stop by Good Earth Market on my way home from the park to buy some apples so I could bake a pie. And guess who I saw in the produce section? He was just standing there, kind of spaced out, holding an orange in each hand. I myself was mesmerized by his butt in those jeans. I bet he’s skated backward a lot in his life, because those cheeks were twin hills of absolute professional dedication. I need to remember to tell him about Bridget’s pants-alterations business.

It was then that I decided I did want him to teach me how to skate. I’d figure out the Dad piece of it later. Finally, I walked over to the other side of the produce stand to grab a paper bag and select some apples, pretending like I hadn’t seen him. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed him sniffing the air and then looking up at me. Like he could smell me or something.Hopefully he liked my homemade fragrance. He looked happy to see me at first and then just…sad. And then kind of dick-ish.

He gave me a little nod, and then he looked down at the oranges in his hands like he didn’t realize he was squeezing them.

“Knock, knock,” I said from the other side of the produce display.

“Who’s there?” he asked, with a cocked eyebrow.

“Orange.”

“Orange who?”

“Orange you gonna tell me if you went to the Beaver Lodge or not?”

Cute, right?

I thought I was hilarious.

Dean Rafferty, it seemed, did not. “No. I did stop by Whisk It Good to pick up oven mitts, though,” he said as he proceeded to fill his basket with navel oranges.

I wandered over to his side of the display. “Are you afflicted with scurvy? Because they do sell Vitamin C supplements here.”