Page 27 of Boots & Scars

"What made you want to play?"

I gritted my teeth. "I just did."

"Did you always want to be in the NHL?"

I sighed, trying to keep my irritation in check. "Yes."

"What's it like playing professionally?"

I stopped skating and turned to face her. "Why are you asking so many questions?"

She shrugged, unfazed by my tone. "I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," I muttered under my breath.

She ignored my comment and kept pushing. "Do you like coaching?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's not what I signed up for," I replied, starting to skate again.

"But you're good at it," she insisted, keeping pace with me.

I shot her a sidelong glance. "What makes you think that?"

"You've been helping me," she said simply.

I snorted. "Don't read too much into it."

She skated in silence for a moment before speaking again. "What's your favorite part of hockey?"

"Winning," I said without hesitation.

"And your least favorite part?"

"Losing," I answered curtly.

Everly seemed to ponder this for a moment before asking another question. "Do you miss playing?"

I paused mid-stride, caught off guard by the question. I didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence hang between us like a heavy fog.

"Why the fuck do you ask so many questions?" I snapped, my voice echoing off the rink's walls. "Can't you just shut up and skate?"

Everly jerked back, her eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. Her reaction only fueled my frustration. I turned away, trying to focus on anything other than the sting of her questions.

"You know," she said after a moment, her voice softer but steady, "you're not as scary as you think you are."

I whipped around to face her, my expression hardening. "What did you just say?"

She stood her ground, her gaze unwavering. "You're not as scary as you think you are," she repeated, more firmly this time.

My jaw tightened, anger boiling just beneath the surface. How dare she? Who was she to judge me? She didn't know the first thing about my life or what I'd been through.

But instead of lashing out again, I found myself staring at her in silence. Something in her eyes kept me from exploding further.

"Whatever," I muttered finally, turning back toward the center of the rink. "Just keep skating."

---