“It was a catastrophe from the start. I couldn’t remember the guy’s name. I’m pretty sure it was a pity interview with no intention of hiring me. The room pissed me off. There wasan incident with his balls. I lost my water bottle,” her voice cracks. “And none of that is even the worst part.”
“We’ll circle back to his balls in a minute,” I say, brushing a strand of her hair back. “What was the worst part?”
She sniffs, shaking her head against my hands. “My aunt is leaving.”
“Your—?”
She nods her head, confirming. “She took a position at another school. I tried to be supportive when she told me. Something about the California sun and a backyard with orange trees but…” She squeezes her eyes shut and tears slip free, but I don’t wipe them away. Instead, I hold the back of her head and pull her into my chest, feeling her body relax almost instantly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.” I bury my lips in the hair on top of her head.
“Don’t do that,” she says, lifting her head up and pressing her chin to my chest. “Don’t make what you’re doing any less important because I’m having a bad day. I’m proud of you for your win tonight.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re a Lion, are you not?” I don’t answer, and she steps back, getting a better view of my face. “Your team won tonight.Youwon tonight.”
That’s not how it works. We won three to two but not one of those goals or assists were mine.
“Maverick didn’t score last week,” she says after a minute. “I know Gabe only scored his first goal a few weeks ago, so he’s not scoring every game, either.” I look down at her, trying to figure out why she’s reading my team’s stats to me. “Are they any less valuable to your team?”
“Of course not.”
She arches a brow as if that makes her point. “Do they not get to celebrate because they weren’t the top goal-scorers?”
Fuck. Am I that conditioned to believe that I’m worth less if I’m not the best?
I step back, guiding us to her bed, toe off my shoes, and pull her under the covers with me. Her legs tangle with mine, my arms wrap around her body, and her fingers comb softly through my hair.
I close my eyes and my breathing settles. “I love it when you do that.” I don’t need to see her face to know that she’s smiling. “No one has ever done that before.”
“Played with your hair?” She grips the top of it a little tighter. “How could they not?”
“Do you want to talk about the guy’s balls, whose name you forgot?” I ask, feeling myself already starting to drift.
The softest laugh fills the room before she kisses my forehead and says, “No. Get some sleep, Golden Boy.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here tonight.”
“Noah—”
I shake my head pulling her in tighter. “I should have been here.”
“Again!”
My lungs are burning. Fire. Pure, blue flames scorch my chest. The stick between my gloved hands could break at any moment from the pressure I have on it.
“Noah.”
Flying down the lake at the fastest speed I can muster, I push just that tiny bit harder. My lungs will collapse before I do. I’m not leaving this ice alive.
“Noah!”
My dad’s furious. His face is fifty shades of red. No matter how many laps, how many goals, how many stops, or how many drills I do, it’s not good enough.
I’m not good enough.
And you never will be.
