Page 111 of On Thin Ice

The right wing hesitated, twisted around, and instead of passing—instead of waiting—shot the puck.

Finn hit the ice a half-second too late, not able to deflect the puck, and it hit the back of the net.

“Hey, tough break,” Ramsey said, skating over as Finn lifted himself up. “You still got this.”

Finn knew his father was watching. His fatherandJacob. But anyone could’ve made that decision wrong. It had been smart to wait. His instincts couldn’t pay off every time—even when he wanted them to.

Did it suck that they hadn’t paid offnowwith his dad watching?

Yeah, it did, but before, Finn knew it would’ve seriously thrown him. Instead of recovering—instead of resetting emotionally and physically—he’d already be dreading what Morgan would say to him.

But even though he knew he probably wouldn’tlikeit, he could push the thought away.

It wasn’t perfect, but what did Jacob always like to say?

Doesn’t have to be perfect to be okay.

Finn repeated those words over and over as the game unfolded. Ivan scored, and then their third line did, too, making it four to one, but he didn’t let himself relax.

He didn’t get seriously challenged though. The Bandits took a few shots, but they were fairly straightforward blocks, and with Brody and Ramsey and the rest of the defense swarming around them, they hadn’t been able to rebound or take multiple shots.

The game ended four to one—but it was nearly five to one, as Mal nearly bagged an empty net goal at the end, to seal it off.

He showered and changed, appreciating the way Coach and Zach and a lot of the guys patted him, respecting the effort he’d put in even though for this game, at least, he hadn’t felt like everything was resting entirely on his shoulders.

He halfway expected Morgan to make another comment about that, how he was lucky itwasn’tentirely on his shoulders, but as he finished dressing, he told himself firmly that he wasn’t going to think the worst of his dad before he evenwasthe worst.

“Hey, great game,” Morgan said as he approached where, to his surprise, his dad was standing with Jacob.

“Thanks,” Finn said, letting his dad fold him into his embrace. It was a quick, reassuring hug, but it was more than he’d expected. He met Jacob’s eyes over his dad’s shoulder, and the warmth in his stomach grew.

Because as good as it felt to hear his dad say it, it felt even better to have Jacob look at him like that.

Like he’d done everything Jacob could’ve expected—and more. And even if he hadn’t, Jacob would still be here and would still be looking at him exactly the same way.

“Yeah, you had great puck control,” Jacob agreed, as his dad let go of him.

Jacob didn’t touch him but Finn could tell he wanted to. His gaze was as good as a caress across his cheek.

“Food?” Morgan asked.

Finn glanced over at Jacob again. He wanted to have dinner with his boyfriend—not his dad—but he didn’t know how to suggest it.

Until Morgan blew his mind and continued, “Braun, you should come with us.”

Finn looked at him, aware that he was staring at his dad like he’d lost his mind. “Are you alright? Do you have some kind of latent concussion syndrome?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to break down the game with him,” Morgan said breezily, like this was no big deal. Like he and Jacob hadn’t been at each other’s throats forever.

“I do,” Finn said.

Morgan turned to Jacob. “How about it?”

Jacob looked as floored as Finn felt. “Uh . . .sure. Okay.”

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested we sit together,” Morgan muttered.

This time Finn couldn’t keep his astonishment in. “Yousattogether?”

---