Page 31 of Meant for Mayhem

Again.

Every rush got cleaner. Every pass got sharper. Every mistake came with someone chirping the poor kid who made it. Halfway through another drill, I glanced toward the stands, momentarily forgetting why this was so important.

Leena was still in Shannon’s lap but had abandoned the princesses in favor of climbing all over her instead. Shannon caught me looking and gave me a thumbs up.

I rubbed at the knot that had lived in my chest all week, but between the first drill and now, it was gone. Yesterday, every version of the future I’d imagined ended with me telling my teammates I’d lied. Explaining why my “wife” had disappeared before the season even started.

Figuring out how to raise Leena alone while balancing an NHL schedule, if I could even play anymore.

Now the barest glimpse of a different future popped into my head, one with Shannon in it. Not forever, but long enough to get us through the season.

No matter what we decided, I wasn’t looking for more than that.

I couldn’t.

“GOALLLLLL!” Jace cried as he flew by me, hands in the air.

I glanced back at the ice, where the kids all dog-piled him like they’d won the state championship again.

“I think I need my inhaler,” Pickles said from behind me, and Ty helped him back to his feet.

Beckett skated to my side, spraying ice up over my knees. “Best of three?”

“Nah,” I said, looking at the kids who had now raised Jace up on their shoulders, tossing him into the air. “They earned it.”

“Don’t let them hear you say that,” Ty said as he skated by, then forced the kids to reassemble. “Smash was offsides. Goal doesn’t count.”

The groan was unanimous, but Pickles lifted his stick in the air, celebrating this turn of events.

Before I’d even caught my breath, Beckett blew the whistle, and the kids took off toward me again, ready for more. An hour passed before I knew it. I checked on the girls every few minutes, but each time I saw how comfortable Leena was with Shannon, the weight on my chest lessened.

When Beckett finally called it quits, I glanced up to see my baby passed out in Shannon’s arms. Shannon’s dark hair was resting against Leena’s pale blonde, the two so opposite and yet they looked perfect together.

I handed my skates, gloves, and stick back to Ty. “Thanks for this. I needed it.”

He followed my gaze, then brushed a hand across his mustache. “You looked like yourself out there.”

Somewhere between the first drill and now, I’d felt like myself again, too.

“Take it easy, okay, man? Junie’s taught me there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. You just have to love that kid hard enough that they feel it on a bone-deep level.”

“I do.” The words came easily because they were so honest.

He squeezed my shoulder, then walked by. “I can tell.”

Outside, the midday sun painted the mountains gold behind the rink. Construction fencing lined one side of the parking lot, roping off where the new rink expansion would be soon enough. Shannon met me beside my SUV and carefully transferred Leena into my arms. My daughter barely stirred, only snuggling deeper against my chest before letting out a sleepy sigh.

“I think she likes you.”

“Yes, well, your girl has excellent taste.”

I buckled Leena into her car seat, tucking her blanket around her before quietly shutting the door. When I turned around, Shannon was waiting with her arms crossed, waiting for me to say something.

But everything about the last few days had me at a loss.

I expected her to be angry with me for lying, but she wasn’t.

I expected her to tell me to solve my own problems, but she didn’t.