Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JENSEN
So … fucking Barrett until we both can’t walk has not been enough to get him out of my system. Go figure. It hasn’t stopped us from trying though. Every free minute we can squeeze in, we’re naked together, but none of it has scratched that itch I can’t shake like our night at the hotel did.
I need that with him again.
My phone beeps, and I look down at the messages to see that Kasen has replied to me saying that I’d see him soon.
Kasen:
Not like I can avoid it.
Instead of his snark pissing me off, it makes me smile.
I’m in too good a mood today to let anything get to me, and as I scroll back through our texts over the last week or so, his responses have evolved from giving my message a thumbs-up or ignoring them completely—not sure which is worse—to a single-word answer.
Then a few days ago, I sent him an article about the draft that happened a few days ago, telling him that would be him in a few years, and I got the first real response from him.
You have to say that, you’re my dad.
Knowing Kasen, I read it in the dry tone he always uses with me, but it gave me hope. I managed to get a full conversation out of him about the rebuild in Columbus and how Gutlier, who was this year’s number one draft pick, would change the team dynamics.
Not only did it feel good to talk about hockey, but it felt good to talk about it with him.
I’m almost addicted to sending him messages and seeing which ones will get a bite out of him.
Then today, he messaged me first.
You at training today?
My gaze moves to my response.
Sure am. It’ll only be us. Coach Barrett has an appointment.
Kasen:
Okay.
Then the follow-up that’s had me grinning all morning.
Lift home and ice cream?
I’d tried to play it cool and told him only if he ordered chocolate, which got me an eye roll emoji in reply. But it’s happening.
The only, only tiny dent in my good mood is that it’s late July, which means in a month or so, I have to make plans to head home.
Training camp doesn’t start until mid-September, and I’ve been keeping active by helping Barrett with coaching, but it’s not the same as being in my own highly controlled space.
With my chef and my home gym and Lachie helping push me when I want to say fuck it and flop on the couch.
Considering it’s been over a month already, and the progress I’ve made with Kasen has been baby steps, I need more time.
Or for something to drastically change.
Barrett, Elise, and I have a great morning of coaching before she leaves at lunchtime, and just before Kasen’s class, Barrett leaves for his first therapy appointment.
I’m so proud of him, even though he’s anxious about it—he called the puck a disk earlier, then told someone else to stit it with your hick—but now I’m alone.
And Kasen’s just walked into the rink.
“Hey, hey,” I call, collecting the stray pucks and bringing them back into the center of the ice.
He doesn’t answer, but he does wordlessly start helping.
He’s got his helmet stuffed under his arm, and I have another of those moments where he looks so fucking tiny.
“Your head looks small.”
He throws me a what the fuck look.
“Ever see The Avengers?”
“Of course.”
“It’s like the Hulkbuster suit. With your teeny head sticking out the top.”
He scowls and shoves his helmet on. “Better?”
“Ehh. I could do without the death glare.”
“Well, we all want things we can’t have.” He looks around. “You going to coach me?”
“The thing is, I’m not actually a coach. We can do what we’ve been doing the last few weeks, or I could shoot rockets at you and see how many saves you make.”
“Sure.” He takes off on his warm-up skate, and I watch him the whole time.
It’s weird. How he can be so prickly and, let’s face it, a downright asshole sometimes, but as I watch him, a cautious sort of softness takes over.
Through his scowls and his thumbs-ups and his sheer determination to push me away, I’ve gotten glimpses of him.
That drive for hockey. The way he hurts over Carly.
How sometimes, when he thinks I’m not looking, I’ll catch him watching me exactly the way I watch him.
I’m curious about him the way he’s curious about me.
He slows to a stop in front. “Where’s Coach?”
“He had an appointment.”
“You said. What’s he doing?”
I smile at his audacity. “Not your business.”
Kasen tilts his head as far as his bulky helmet will allow. “Are you guys hooking up?”
Oh, shit. Barrett and I haven’t really talked about what we’d tell anyone, because no one has bothered to guess. No one could guess, considering how careful we’ve been. “Again. Not your business.”
“That’s a yes.”
“That’s a keep going and I’ll make sure you don’t make a single save today.”
“Unlikely.” One side of his lips actually curls upward. Then he reaches out and takes my stick. He replaces it with his goalie one, the one I bought him, and turns his attention to a puck, knocking it back and forth so fast I don’t even think I could keep up.
“That’s some impressive stick handling. Coach Barrett teach you that?”
“Nope, my best friend did.”
“Shit, he’s talented.”
“Yes, she is.”
I bite my tongue at that gentle reprimand. “What’s her name?”
“Amy. She’s on our team and better than most of us. I fucking love seeing her kick ass against some of the teams we play. They hate it so much.” He cackles. “They really take it personally to be beaten by a girl.”
I pick up on the affection in his tone. “Are you …”
He actually bares his teeth at me. “No, we’re not dating. No, we don’t want to date. Jordan likes her, but she’d never date anyone on the team. She wants to be taken seriously.”
I nod at where his hands are flying on the stick. “If she’s teaching you those moves, I don’t see how anyone couldn’t.”
“Really?” he snorts. “You can’t think of anyone on your team who doesn’t look down on the PWHL?”
He’s got me there. “Okay, yeah, a few.”
He nods and keeps focused on the puck. Barrett told me he was a smart kid, but listening to him talk, I can’t not respect Carly for how she’s raised him. Sure, he might want to hate me, but besides that, he’s actually got a good head on his shoulders.
“Carly did great,” I whisper.
Kasen’s eyes fly to mine. “What?”
“Your mom.” I have to clear my throat when a wave of emotion catches me off guard. “I hate that I couldn’t be there for you. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive her for that, but … you’re a really good kid, Kasen. So I’ll always be grateful for that too.”
His head immediately tips forward, helmet cutting off my view of his face. “Yeah,” he says shortly. “She was great.” When he peeks back up at me, his eyes are red. “Grandma too.”
I’m determined not to hate Amelia, but we haven’t gotten off to the best start. Especially since I can’t interpret what he means by that. Is it him saying he wants to stay with her? Or just stating a fact?
I search his eyes, but he gives nothing away. “She isn’t giving you a hard time for spending time with me?”
“She doesn’t know.”
I frown, not liking that at all. “You need to tell her.”
“I don’t want her to worry.”
“What does she have to worry about?”
“You taking me away.”
I’m not expecting that. “Is that what you think I’m going to do?”
“Is it what you’re going to do?”
“Do you want me to do that?”
He sets the blade of his stick between his skates and leans into it.
“There’s a hockey camp not too far away where NHL players come in and help coach or have charity days.
It’s a not-for-profit, and I’ve applied to go there because they have scholarships.
I was accepted for one class a week through the school year, but Grandma said no.
She wants me to focus on my schoolwork.”
I have no idea where he’s going with this, but it’s the most words he’s ever spoken to me.
“What I want is to have someone in my corner again. Mom worked long hours and shitty jobs, but she always found money for my hockey stuff and showed up for my games and supported the hell out of me. She made me think I could do it.”
“She was right.” My response is automatic.
“And I’m not saying that because I’m your dad.
You’re more skilled than I was at your age.
You have talent. And you’re smart. I never was.
It was hockey or bust for me. You have options.
” I take a breath. “And you’re not going to need a single one of them. ”
Hope lights up his eyes. “I know.”
“As for taking you away … I know you’ve been through a lot. I really want to get a chance to be your dad and have a relationship, and I’d be lying if I said I don’t picture you in St. Louis with me. But your whole life is here, and I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
I’m not sure how he feels about that. Kasen’s good at locking his thoughts down, and even as he chews on the inside of his cheek, I can’t puzzle him out.
Finally, he holds out my stick. I take it and pass his back to him.
Then, he actually fucking smiles. “Let’s see how many shots you can make on me before you break a hip.”
My laugh chokes out of me, but I follow him to the goals and show him what it means to face a professional player. The little shit holds his own, and even through my competitive streak, a hint of pride cuts in, and I’m hit with the coolest thought I’ve ever had.
I finally know what I’m going to do with my life when I retire.
I’m going to follow his team around the country and make up for every game I’ve ever missed.