of irritation made me roll my eyes, though he couldn’t even see me. “Dad, I don’t care if he falls behind. He’s five. There’s a science camp he wants to go to, and I think that’s enough for one summer.”
“Science camp?” I knew the vein in his forehead was standing out. It seemed like all I had to do to work my father up was speak. “I don’t want my grandson falling behind on his game because he went to some pussy nerdfest.”
“He’s smart, and you better not make him feel like there’s anything wrong with going to science camp. Kyler’s not going to be your hockey protégé. I told you that when he was born. I wasn’t sure I wanted to let him play at all, but he wanted to because of his dad.”
Dad gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. “Is it the money? Because your mother and I would be honored to pay for it.”
I softened a little. “It’s not the money, Dad.”
“Well, they don’t pay you enough in that rinky-dink league, I’ll tell you that right now. You’re a damned good trainer. Let me find you something in my league.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to earn my way. I’d never be happy getting a job through your connections.”
“Any team would be lucky to have you.”
My throat tightened. Despite his usual gruff tone, his praise meant a lot to me. Compliments from Butch Price were few and far between.
“Thanks, Dad. Listen, I have to go. But I’ll talk to Kyler about the camp. If he wants to go, I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll pay for his spot and then if you decide against it, they can use the money for a scholarship.”
I wanted so badly to refuse his offer. But the camp was expensive, and I knew this meant a lot to him.
“Okay. I appreciate that.”
“They treating you well there? None of those boys are feeling you up, are they?”
I smiled. “They treat me great. Tanner’s very professional, and the guys are, too.”
Another grunt that was Dad’s means of reluctantly dropping a subject. “Can I talk to Kyler?”
“Uh … he’s asleep, actually.”
“Oh.”
A surge of anxiety flooded me. If he asked me where I was and what I was doing, I’d have a hard time lying to him. And he’d flip his shit if he knew I was meeting Luke Hudson at nine p.m. for one on one training.
“I’ll have him call you after school tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Bye.”
I hung up and breathed out a slow sigh of relief. My old fears about Dad finding out I was involved with one of his players resurfaced. When I’d told him I was pregnant, I was shaking from head to toe before I even spoke the words. He’d roared like a cornered lion and I’d worried he was going to have a heart attack.
Here, in northern Illinois, I was relatively safe to do my own thing. Still, my father cast a wide gaze, even from Nashville. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and I didn’t need any gossip starting that could get back to him.
I wrapped a scarf around my face to block the icy night wind and darted inside a side door. Even in the chill of the arena, I’d defrosted by the time I dropped my stuff off in the locker room, laced my skates up and met Luke on the ice.
“Hey,” he said, grinning and nodding toward the rink’s half-wall. “Brought you some hot chocolate.”
I looked over at two tall paper cups with black lids. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Nothing I enjoy more than warming you up.”
He’d made me blush in less than ten seconds, from about thirty feet away. I had to be careful. I’d learned my lesson about hockey players. Their lifestyle wasn’t conducive to relationships. Some of them changed women more often than underwear. And anyway I was a mom; my focus was on my son, not men.
Luke skated up and down the ice and I passed him pucks that he fired into the net one at a time. He’d shot a few dozen when we stopped for a break. He wiped an arm across his face to clear the sweat away from his eyes. As usual, I watched him. It was hard for me
“Science camp?” I knew the vein in his forehead was standing out. It seemed like all I had to do to work my father up was speak. “I don’t want my grandson falling behind on his game because he went to some pussy nerdfest.”
“He’s smart, and you better not make him feel like there’s anything wrong with going to science camp. Kyler’s not going to be your hockey protégé. I told you that when he was born. I wasn’t sure I wanted to let him play at all, but he wanted to because of his dad.”
Dad gave a grunt of dissatisfaction. “Is it the money? Because your mother and I would be honored to pay for it.”
I softened a little. “It’s not the money, Dad.”
“Well, they don’t pay you enough in that rinky-dink league, I’ll tell you that right now. You’re a damned good trainer. Let me find you something in my league.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to earn my way. I’d never be happy getting a job through your connections.”
“Any team would be lucky to have you.”
My throat tightened. Despite his usual gruff tone, his praise meant a lot to me. Compliments from Butch Price were few and far between.
“Thanks, Dad. Listen, I have to go. But I’ll talk to Kyler about the camp. If he wants to go, I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll pay for his spot and then if you decide against it, they can use the money for a scholarship.”
I wanted so badly to refuse his offer. But the camp was expensive, and I knew this meant a lot to him.
“Okay. I appreciate that.”
“They treating you well there? None of those boys are feeling you up, are they?”
I smiled. “They treat me great. Tanner’s very professional, and the guys are, too.”
Another grunt that was Dad’s means of reluctantly dropping a subject. “Can I talk to Kyler?”
“Uh … he’s asleep, actually.”
“Oh.”
A surge of anxiety flooded me. If he asked me where I was and what I was doing, I’d have a hard time lying to him. And he’d flip his shit if he knew I was meeting Luke Hudson at nine p.m. for one on one training.
“I’ll have him call you after school tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Bye.”
I hung up and breathed out a slow sigh of relief. My old fears about Dad finding out I was involved with one of his players resurfaced. When I’d told him I was pregnant, I was shaking from head to toe before I even spoke the words. He’d roared like a cornered lion and I’d worried he was going to have a heart attack.
Here, in northern Illinois, I was relatively safe to do my own thing. Still, my father cast a wide gaze, even from Nashville. He had eyes and ears everywhere, and I didn’t need any gossip starting that could get back to him.
I wrapped a scarf around my face to block the icy night wind and darted inside a side door. Even in the chill of the arena, I’d defrosted by the time I dropped my stuff off in the locker room, laced my skates up and met Luke on the ice.
“Hey,” he said, grinning and nodding toward the rink’s half-wall. “Brought you some hot chocolate.”
I looked over at two tall paper cups with black lids. “Thanks.”
“My pleasure. Nothing I enjoy more than warming you up.”
He’d made me blush in less than ten seconds, from about thirty feet away. I had to be careful. I’d learned my lesson about hockey players. Their lifestyle wasn’t conducive to relationships. Some of them changed women more often than underwear. And anyway I was a mom; my focus was on my son, not men.
Luke skated up and down the ice and I passed him pucks that he fired into the net one at a time. He’d shot a few dozen when we stopped for a break. He wiped an arm across his face to clear the sweat away from his eyes. As usual, I watched him. It was hard for me
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