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He gave a tiny shrug but didn't answer.

I nodded toward the page. "I used to get nervous around dogs, too. Especially the loud ones. But they're just excited. It's how they say good morning. Like barking is their version of waving."

Still nothing.

"What are you reading?"

He looked up, then down at the book again. "It's about a dog who gets adopted."

"That's a good one. You know, if you read it out loud, the dogs might listen. They like voices. Makes them feel like someone sees them."

He hesitated, then opened to the first page. I stayed there quietly while he started to read. His voice was soft, a little shaky, but he kept going.

I didn't do much—just sat with him, nodded when he glanced at me, and smiled when one of the calmer dogs came and lay down nearby.

I liked who I was at the moment.

***

A few hours and one quick shower later, I was back in my other world. Both noisy. I'd traded the sound of dogs barking and kennel doors clanging for coaches barking drills and pucks hitting the boards.

The locker room hummed with pre-skate energy, chatter bouncing off the tunnel walls as players geared up for ice time. I strapped on my helmet and headed out, nodding at a couple of the guys.

Coop gave me a fist bump as I passed. "Scrimmage today. Don't pull anything dramatic. We've got Big-Club brass in the stands."

"Relax, I'm here to play nice."

He smirked. "Since when?"

"Since I woke up this morning."

Coop snorted. "Guess miracles really do happen before 9 a.m."

“Jerk”

“Hey, just keeping it real,” Coop smirked.

I dropped my duffel, then lowered my voice. "You know half the rookies are gonna overhandle the puck and shoot themselves in the foot trying to stand out."

That’s generous," he muttered. "More like they’ll grip their sticks so tight they forget how to play."

"Let’s round up the guys before the coaches come out. Get some easy puck work going. Grab them and get them over to the penalty box."

"Coop’s Therapy Corner?"

"Better than Coop’s Clean-Up Crew," I said, jerking my chin toward a pair of rookies pacing by the whiteboard.

He laughed and clapped his gloves. "Alright, you heard the man. Bring it in, everyone. Now."

When the coaches came out, we were already gliding through tight passing drills. I stuck with Mason and one of the newer defensemen, giving feedback without barking. Just enough to keep things clean.

Coach pushed through the tunnel with a whistle between his teeth and a raised eyebrow.

"You running my practice now, Hayes?"

I shrugged. "These kids wanted to show me some new tricks."

The guys around us snorted. Even the coaches cracked a smile.