Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
Kayla Barnes: I know it’s the last minute, but can you cover an event tonight? It’s a hockey clinic for aspiring young players. Promo galore!
Natalie: Of course!
“Come on, buddy, it will be fun.” I adjust the helmet strap under Jace’s chin and cross my fingers this works. My mom had already left for her GrubHub gig when I got asked to cover an event for the hockey team tonight. I wasn’t originally on the schedule, but Kayla had to do some damage control for the basketball team and asked me to come. My dad was having a rough night, but I can’t say no to my boss. Thankfully, it’s a clinic for aspiring players, so I brought Jace with me.
Unfortunately, he’s never put on skates, let alone played a game of hockey in his life. He’s only four. I’m not sure we can pull this off. But if I can snap a few cute pictures, I can get him home before I get in too much trouble.
He looks up at me through the visor of the too-big helmet. It’s hard to tell with the plastic shield that covers his eyes, but I think they are shining with excitement. Gripping my hand, he teeters on his skates as we make our way from the bench to the ice.
The Griffin players have grouped the kids by ability. Some are working on passing drills, some are shooting pucks in the net, and all of them are smiling wide. It’s adorable and going to be great fodder for our socials. The ice is packed, and I’m not sure where to send Jace, considering he has zero skills yet.
“Can I go over there?” He points towards a group Cooper is leading, and I nod. I bet Cooper is great with littles. The minute Jace lets go of my hand and takes his first steps, he bites it.
I gasp and scramble out on the ice to pick him up, but Hunter beats me to it.
“Hey, little dude.” Putting one knee down on the ice, Hunter gives him a hand up and then holds Jace’s waist as his skates threaten to slide out from under him again. “Can you and I work together on some blade skills?”
Jace nods, his face lighting up, and my heart swells, seeing him so happy. Pulling out my phone, I get pictures and videos. Many feature my nephew, but it’s not my fault that Jace is the cutest kid here. Hunter is patient and encouraging—not his usual grumpy self. I didn’t see that coming. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but Jace smiles the whole time and marches around the boards, holding Hunter’s hand and then on his own.
As they move away, I get shots of the other guys, too, but Hunter and Jace draw my gaze like a magnet. Jace doesn’t have any hockey gear, but Kevin, the equipment manager, helped me find some pads and stuff to keep him safe. Although he’s swimming in it all. I wasn’t sure how he’d do with this—he’s well-adjusted and flexible, but he hasn’t spent time with a lot of men besides my dad. But he can’t stop beaming at Hunter.
And Hunter. Honestly, I thought they’d probably tell him to stay home so he wouldn’t scare away the kids with his Oscar the Grouch personality. Every time he smiles back at Jace, shows him how to do something, or makes him giggle, my heart explodes a little.
I shake my head and tamp it down. Sure, I can enjoy the view, but nothing more. I’m here to do a job. Even if talking to him on the bus the other day wasn’t as bad as I expected.
Biting my lip, I hide behind my phone and try to look professional. I tug on my fitted navy Harrison Hockey polo and shiver. It’s cold this close to the ice surface. Too bad I didn’t bring Hunter’s sweatshirt. But wearing something four sizes too big that belongs to a player is not the professional message I want to send. The coaches and staff have fleece jackets and windbreakers, but I’m not buying anything beyond the standard-issue shirt they gave me and khakis. Hockey swag is expensive.
Making a mental note to put on layers next time, I get caught up observing the clinic. The guys do great, taking each kid for one-on-one time and signing pucks for them as the event finishes.
Kids are being dismissed to their parents in the stands when the chatter picks up and the arena buzzes with excitement. I was so busy watching Hunter and Jace that I almost missed it, but entering the ice is a man I recognize as Hunter’s dad. He’s escorted by the Director of Hockey Operations. People surge out of their seats to be close to them.
He has a charming smile, hair that’s a lighter shade of brown than Hunter’s, and the same striking blue eyes. Mr. Thompson waves at the crowd and then eagerly autographs pucks thrust at him by the kids gathered around. He seems affable, smiling and joking.
And what better picture than Hunter and his dad interacting with kids together? That’s the publicity gold that keeps Ms. Barnes warm at night, I’m sure. But Hunter couldn’t be further away. I sigh and try to catch his eye, but no luck.
“Hunter!” Cupping my hands around my mouth, I yell his name across the ice, and he turns his glare on me. “Get over there,” I motion.
Hunter stays on the other side of the area, posture stiff. He and Jace watch the interactions but make no move to join them. Despite his helmet and visor, it’s clear he’s glowering at the show his dad puts on.
Is it an attention thing? Maybe he doesn’t enjoy sharing the spotlight with his dad. I guess it makes sense—his dad is a famous NHL player. Hunter is good but hasn’t reached that level yet, so he’s in his shadow. I itch to snatch Jace and take him home, but I need to get pictures of this up on social media as soon as possible.
Shaking his head, Hunter crosses his arms, but his dad notices. When Mr. Thompson waves Hunter over, all eyes are on him, and he complies.
I move around, snapping pictures, and there’s a lot of backslapping and smiling on Mr. Thompson’s part. Hunter’s face is a blank mask, and he holds his body like a mannequin who has forgotten how to move. That’s gonna photograph well.
At the other end of the arena, Jace wobbles and falls, and Hunter rushes back to his side in a blur of orange and navy. The rest of the kids get dismissed, their excitement bubbling out as they recount what they learned. Hunter sets Jace on his feet as I make my way to them.
“Hey, buddy,” I say from behind the boards. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah!” He tries to jump but lands on his back like a turtle. Thank god for all those pads. Hunter’s gaze locks on mine for a second before he reaches down and helps Jace. I expect him to cry, but he smiles at me, his dark eyes twinkling. He’s going to sleep so well tonight.
“Jumping is an advanced skill.” Hunter tells him, patting his helmet. “Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” His voice rises in pitch. “Aunt Nattie, can I come back?”
“Um…”
“Wait a minute.” Hunter stares between the two of us. “This is your nephew?”
“Yeah. He didn’t tell you?” I assumed he knew and gave Jace special treatment as leverage to get out of an interview later or something. I showed him that picture of Jace on the bus, but it makes sense that he didn’t recognize him in oversized hockey gear. The helmet dwarfs his features and keeps slipping down over his eyes.
“Nope.” He offers Jace a fist bump. “But he’s great. You’ll have to bring him to skate with me again.”
Before Hunter can move, Jace flings himself at his legs and gives him a hug. Blinking at me underneath his helmet, Hunter kneels and hugs him back.
“It was nice to meet you, buddy.” He lifts Jace over the boards and deposits him at my side, then pins me in his ice-blue stare.“Good to see you, too, Natalie.”
With one last wave at Jace and a long look in my direction, he skates off. I can’t figure this guy out. One minute, he’s absolutely adorable with my nephew, and the next he’s a robot with his own father. What’s his problem? Who treats their family like that?
Jace and I return to the equipment room, stripping off his pads and skates. Hockey players wear a lot of gear. His eyes tear up as I make him return the kids-sized Griffin’s jersey he borrowed.
“I know, buddy,” I whisper in his ear. “Maybe for your birthday.”
He nods, then puts his fingers in mine. “Thanks, Aunt Nattie. This was so fun.”
As we make our way through the bowels of the arena towards my office, he chatters about Hunter non-stop.
“Hunter told me I could be a Forward, like him, because they are the best, and then Hunter said that I was so fast on the ice, I was like a blur! Hunter told me I was so brave when I fell down, and Hunter—”
“Uh, buddy?” I cut off the flow of words as we approach the maze of offices. “I need you to play the quiet game for me until we get into my office.”
I didn’t exactly have permission to bring Jace with me to this clinic, let alone sneak him into my office while I finish up my posts. So we’re in stealth mode. I hold my finger up to my mouth in the quiet gesture, and he nods, zipping his lips. I make it a game as we tiptoe through the halls, pretending we’re spies. Jace giggles and zips around the corner ahead of me, making me lose sight of him.
It’s fine until I can’t hear his giggles anymore. My heart starts pounding double-time, and my palms get sweaty. I round another bend in the bowels of the arena, my eyes darting everywhere.
“Jace?” I call, my voice high-pitched with tension. “Jace, where did you go?”
Blindly, I turn down hall after hall, no idea where I am. I continue to call Jace’s name, panic rising with each step, until he suddenly tackles my knees from behind.
“Surprise!”
My heart still beats double-time, but I force myself to breathe, staring down into his face. His eyes light with mischief.
I put my hand over my chest. “Buddy, where were you?”
“I was playing hide and seek! Like spies.” He smiles wide, proud of himself, and I shake my head.
“Next time, ask me first. I got scared when I couldn’t find you.”
“Oh.” His face falls, and he pats my leg. “I don’t want you to be scared. Do you need a hug?”
“Yes, please.” I kneel down, and he wraps his little arms around my neck. Squeezing him tight, I exhale again. He probably took years off my life, but it’s fine.
Standing, I grab his hand and look around. I have no idea where we are or how to get out of here. But I square my shoulders. “Stay with me this time, okay?”
“Okay. So you don’t get scared by yourself.”
“Yep, that’s why.”
Nothing looks familiar. I lead us down non-descript hallways, hoping for a landmark or sign. Getting lost where I work is a new low. Am I going to have to call Tyler and ask for directions?
Muttering under my breath, I fumble for my cell phone.
“Aunt Nattie, do you know where we’re going?” Jace gives me a suspicious look.
I bite my lip. “Well…”
“Are we lost?” His voice is squeaky with panic, when we round a corner and hear other people talking at the end of the hallway.
“What a waste of your time and talent. I still don’t understand why you gave away your future for this.”
“I’m playing, it’s not like I’m riding the bench. And getting a degree. That has to be good for my future, right?” I recognize that speaker. It’s Hunter.
“Aunt Nattie, let’s go ask them for help,” Jace whispers to me. But they clearly don’t want to be interrupted.
“You don’t need a degree to play hockey, and that’s what we’ve always planned.” The harsh reply stings, and I’m just listening in. “Your degree is practically worthless, and let’s be honest—the level of talent I’m seeing here is not going to keep the Blackhawks interested.”
“We won the other night. We’re starting to gel. I think—”
“Oh, you’re an expert now?” The familiar voice huffs a sarcastic laugh. Who’s talking? I can’t place it. “That’s rich.”
Hunter’s tone is laced with steel. “I’m not an expert, but I am the captain. I know my team, and—”
“Some captain you’ve been lately. Cooper’s back must hurt from carrying you and everyone else.”
The insult makes my stomach churn, and Jace takes the opportunity to tug his fingers out of mine and run towards the argument. Crap. I follow on his heels, trying to grab him.
“Help!” He yells, turning a corner. “We’re lost!”
Panting, I finally catch up to him, coming square upon Hunter and his dad. “I’m so sorry. He got away from me, and—”
“Jace?” Hunter asks, eyes wide. Blinking, his face goes from red to white. “Natalie? What are you doing here?”
“We got lost.” Jace frowns and looks up at me, and I reach out for him again. Now I understand those moms that have their kids on leashes.
Mr. Thompson stands up straighter and grimaces. I think his expression is supposed to be a smile, but the charming grin from earlier is nowhere in sight.
He drops his hand on Hunter’s shoulder, squeezing. “Hunter, do you know these folks?”
“Uh, yeah. Natalie works for the team, and—”
“And she got lost?” He turns his cold blue eyes on me, and I flinch internally. “That seems unlikely.”
Outwardly, I fake a laugh and motion towards Jace. “This guy got away from me and we’re all turned around. I’m sorry to interrupt. Could you just point us in the right direction?”
His mouth in a firm line, Mr. Thompson points behind him. “Two lefts and right should do it.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Dumb fangirl,” he whispers under his breath as I lead Jace past. He probably thought I wouldn’t hear, but I square my shoulders and hustle away.
I’ve worked in customer service since I was in high school; it’s not the first time I’ve heard someone say unkind words behind my back. But it makes me rethink Hunter’s interactions tonight. I assumed that he was a jerk, that he didn’t want to share the spotlight with his dad.
But his dad’s tone rings in my head. His derogatory attitude towards Hunter’s abilities and his choices. My dad would never speak to me like that. In public, Mr. Thompson was picture perfect, but in private, maybe it’s a different story.
Things got off to a rocky start between Hunter and I. But the anguish in his gaze when his dad put his hand on his shoulder lingers with me. I leapt to judgment, but there’s a chance I need to look deeper to see the truth.
Maybe there’s more to Hunter than I first thought.