Page 26 of Hot Shot
“Yeah.” I reach up to adjust my headband again.
“If you want a DNA test to be sure, I’ll do it, but I don’t need it to know I’m your father. Plus the timeline matches up. It all makes sense. I’m sorry I didn’t answer her when she first contacted me. I’m sorry I’ve missed out on you growing up.”
“I don’t need a test to know either.” I pick up my coffee and take a sip. “I see the resemblance too. I-I’ve spent my life not having a father. I’m grown now so it’s not like I necessarily need a father. But I think I’d like to get to know you, have you in my life.”
“I’d like that, Madison.”
We spend the next hour talking and getting to know each other. He tells me about his hockey career and how he transitioned into coaching. I tell him about pastry school and moving to Orlando.
Glancing at his phone, Jake says, “I’m sorry Madison. I have to go.”
“I understand. It was nice to see you, get to know you.”
“Likewise. Maybe we can do this again soon. Or have dinner. I’d love to have you come to a game or two if you want.”
Dinner would be a good next step in getting to know him. Going to a hockey game? Now that’s another story altogether. I’m not sure if I’m ready for it.
“How about we get dinner one day this week or next?”
“Sounds good.”
We toss our trash in the garbage and head out the door, exchanging a somewhat awkward goodbye on the sidewalk. As I’m heading to my car, my phone pings with a text message. Thinking it’s Jake I pull my phone out of my bag to read it.
EJ:I miss you. I need to talk to you. Please call me, text me, email me. Something.
I shove my phone back in my purse and get in my car. EJ may have been my best friend for years but his behavior earlier this year was uncalled for and something that I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive
Chapter eleven
Hunter
Ihopoutofmy truck and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. This afternoon is the Storm’s annual start of the season barbecue at Caleb’s house.
An event I should be excited to go to.
Except I’ve been dreading it since it was announced a few weeks back. Don’t get me wrong, the guys are friendly. I’ve hung out with most of them, but I still feel like an outsider.
Like I don’t belong.
Like I’m biding my time until I get sent down to the Mustangs.
“Hey.” Holt walks up to where I’m standing next to my truck.
“Hey man. What’s up?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “You’ll never guess who I saw at the coffee shop the other day.”
“I don’t know.”
“Coach. He was on a date. With a much younger girl,” he whispers as we make our way up the driveway.
“And?” What do I care what Coach Weaver does in his off time?
“She was like half his age.”
“Who was half his age? Who are we talking about?” Wes asks as he comes up to us.
Holt glances around. “I saw Coach at the coffee shop with a much younger woman.”
