“So, now what?” she asks, dragging the conversation back to my issue.
“Exactly. Now what?”
She studies me for a moment, considering my options.
“I guess it all depends on how much you want to tease him.”
“I can’t. If Dad finds out?—”
“But what if he doesn’t? You want a do-over, right?”
“It was one night. One night that I’ll never forget. I don’t need another.”
“Bullshit,” she coughs.
“I can’t. It’s not fair to him.”
“Okay, fine,” she concedes. Or at least I think she does. “So, you don’t want to hear my ideas then?”
14
KODIE
Istand in the tunnel, listening to the starting line up being announced with hope in my veins.
First exhibition game of the season.
Of course, a lot of things can change.
But I can’t help but feel like this very first game sets the tone for everything to follow.
My name is announced as I lower my skate to the ice, and the fans go crazy.
Keeping my gaze down, I skate to the middle of the rink, trying to focus on what’s to come.
More players are announced, and with each one, the crowd gets wilder.
They’ve been waiting months for this.
Hell, we all have.
I love the off-season. I get to spend my time focusing on Sutton and being a father. But something is always missing. Hockey runs through my veins. It always has and always will.
It’s a part of my DNA. It’s a part of Sutton’s, too.
I smile to myself as I do a lap, thinking about her game the other night.
They won six to nothing. And my girl scored four of those goals.
Fuck. I was—I am—so fucking proud of her.
She was on top of the world, and the smile on her face only grew with each goal she scored.
I’m sure many of the other parents think that her skill is because of me. Because I push her to be the best, spend hours training with her. But the truth of it is, it’s her.
I didn’t push her into hockey. Quite the opposite, in fact. I would have been more than happy if she wanted to paint, dance, box, anything. All I want for her is to find something she loves and to enjoy spending time doing it.
Her skill, the hours she put in perfecting it, it’s her drive to succeed, not mine.
