Chapter 33
thirty-three
. . .
Jason
I want to punch Parker Jenkins in his stupid fucking face. And since that’s not a thought I should have toward my teammate, I decide to punish myself by setting up shop in the stands overlooking the rink.
There’s still a half hour before practice starts. The barn is quiet, empty. I like it like this.
Jenkins is young, in his second full season with the team. He’s still learning. He might not have intended to proposition Amelia, or maybe he did and had the sense to walk it back, but who will teach him if I’m not here? There’s still so much to learn, both on and off the ice.
The fury that laced through me when he asked her out… She shouldn’t be subjected to that, not at work.
But she shut him down. Without a second thought, she shut him down.
Maybe she doesn’t have one foot out the door, after all. Maybe she really is as invested in this as me.
What am I going to do with her? How long will she want to keep us a secret?
Derek knows I’m seeing someone. Jenkins knows she’s seeing someone. How long until someone puts two and two together?
I want to be with her. I want a future with her.
When I told Tyler I wasn’t ready to consider marriage, I meant it.
But that doesn’t mean I’m afraid of commitment.
If anything, I’m afraid of over committing.
What if I want this more than she does? What if this is simply a fun way for her to pass the time, and now that I’m not on the road with her every week, she forgets about me?
I did the long-distance thing. I did the heavy travel thing. The road gets lonely, but being left behind hurts more.
Will she still love me when I’m home all the time? When I don’t have hockey occupying my every thought?
Wait a second. Love? Who said anything about love?
But immediately, I shake my head. I can’t kid myself.
I’m in love with Amelia Owen. Even though half the time she drives me crazy, I’m still one hundred percent irrevocably in love with her.
Now, I only have to figure out how to tell her.
Footsteps announce the arrival of another person, and I nod at Coach Turner as he approaches.
“How you doing?” he asks, taking a seat beside me on the uncomfortable metal bleacher.
“Hanging in there.” I still feel hollow at the end of my hockey career. I don’t know what to do next. There are too many options rather than not enough.
The world is my oyster, but all I want is to be a happy little clam with Amelia.
Hockey, health, and Amelia, that’s all I want. And not necessarily in that order.
“Doc says you’re out for the season,” Coach says. “And I know with the contract situation…”
“I think I’m done,” I admit quietly. “I haven’t told my agent yet, but we all know I can’t get the type of deal I want.”
“And what is it you want?”
Coach isn’t involved in contract negotiations; that’s between the GM and my agent. But he can give input.
“I don’t want to give up hockey. I’m not ready to lose that chapter,” I tell him.
“But I want to stay in Boston. My life is here. I don’t want to start over with a new team, jockeying for playing time in a new system.
I don’t know that my knee will hold up much longer, not to mention this mess with my Achilles. ”
He hums. “When you zoom out and look at your life, what do you want?”
Amelia.
And hockey.
I want them both.
When I fall silent, Coach tries something else. “You want to stay with the Grizzlies?”
“This team is my family. It’s my home.” My eight years with the Grizzlies were the best and worst years of my personal life. I played the best hockey of my career. I have friends who are more like family. No other dressing room I’ve ever been in is like the one we have here.
“You know, we have some open positions within the team,” he says.
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
“Kelly is moving on. His wife’s pregnant, and she wants to move closer to her family in Columbus.
He put in his notice, and he’s leaving at the end of the season.
” Josh Kelly is on the coaching staff. He played with the Grizzlies fifteen years ago, then went to Ottawa for a bit, and returned to our team as a coach.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I curl my hands into fists to hide their shaking. “What are you saying?”
“I think you’d make a damn fine Player Development Coordinator,” Coach says.
“What would that entail?” I hold my breath.
“A lot of what you’ve been doing as captain, simply in a different capacity. Working with the younger players, especially on developing their skills. Helping the veteran players stay consistent. Being a sounding board.”
“And I’d still travel with the team?”
“Yep. We’d need you on the road. There will be some rotation, but you’d be with us more games than you wouldn’t.” Coach eyes me. “Is that an issue?”
I’d be on the road again. I’d be on the road with Amelia.
“Not at all.”
“Whatever happens, whether you go out on the Long Term Injured Reserve list or you try to make a comeback, you’re mine until your contract expires on June thirtieth. I expect you to commit to physical therapy and rehab, and do everything the trainers tell you.”
“Yes, Coach.”
“The salary is peanuts compared to what you’re earning now, but it’s very much a livable wage. You’ll be comfortable, even without what you’ve hopefully saved.” He clears his throat. “Take some time to think it over. We haven’t advertised the position yet, but if you want it, it’s yours.”
“Thank you. I’ll definitely think it over.”
“You’ll be all right, McKittrick,” Coach says. “You’ll land on your feet.”
I wince, picking up my crutches. “We’ll see.”
“You will,” he says confidently.
I’ll think it over, but I’m already fairly certain I’ll take the job. If nothing else, it keeps me close to hockey—and Amelia.
With that in mind, I find myself walking through the training facility to the office suite. Vanessa is in her cubicle, rubbing a hand over her swollen belly, with discomfort on her face. She’s due any day now.
“McKittrick,” she says, looking up and smiling at me. “What’s up?”
“I need some advice.”
She frowns. “How can I help?”
Shaking my head, my eyes flick to the ring on her finger before I meet her gaze. “It’s something only you can help with.”