Page 148 of On Thin Ice

“Who needs taking down a peg?” Ramsey sauntered over. Everyone else looked semi-stupid walking in skates except Ramsey.

Elliott liked to say that was how he got so much dick, but they all knew that wasn’t even remotely close to the only reason why.

“Finn’s dad,” Ivan said.

There was a commotion at the door to the locker room, a few gasps and Finn looked up andGod, there he was, outlined in the doorway.

“Shit,” Ivan muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, Ivy, where’s your balls now?” Ramsey asked loudly. “You gonna go do it right now?”

“No, no,no,” Ivan hissed.

Finn laughed.

Coach G walked in, flanked on one side by Zach and on the other side by his dad.

He was wearing black and green, and their eyes met across the room. Morgan had told him that Coach had asked him if he could do this, at some point, and he’d actually asked Finn if it was okay with him.

Finn had said yes, but he hadn’t had a clue it was happeningtonight.

Well, maybe better Jacob was already gone and his dad hadn’t had to witness Jacob claiming him in front of the entire locker room.

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” Coach said, eyes scanning the room. “A future Hall of Famer, and one of the best players to ever take the ice, Morgan Reynolds.”

They all cheered.

Even Finn.

And for once, that felt okay.

For a split second, when he’d seen his dad walk in, he’d thought, horribly,no, no, not now, but after his initial reaction, he realized that it wasn’t terrible. It was actually okay.Morethan okay.

Morgan met his gaze from across the room. Finn’s chin went up and then Morgan’s did and they both smiled.

It’s gonna be good. It’s gonna be great.

“Happy to be here, boys,” Morgan said, glancing around the room as the cheers grew. “Let’s kick this off with our starting left wing, number nine and your Captain, Malcolm McCoy.” Morgan paused as cheers spiked again. “At center, number seventy-one, Ivan Sokolov. Starting right wing, number eighty-eight, Elliott Jones. In the back, Brody Faulkner, number seventy-four. And opposite him, Ramsey Andresen, number eight. And last, but definitely not least. Between the pipes tonight, with one of the highest save percentages in the nation, number twenty-nine, from Rochester, New York, my son and your goalie, Finn Reynolds.”

The room erupted as Morgan walked down the center of the room and Finn met him halfway, embracing him firmly.

Morgan’s eyes weren’t entirely dry and Finn didn’t think his were either. He decided he didn’t give a shit. His teammates had been present for the worst of this relationship—maybe now they could see the other side of the coin, the way Finn was.

“Kill it out there today,” Morgan murmured, and Finn nodded.

When he pulled back, Morgan’s eyes were still bright with unshed tears.

“Yeah,” Finn said.

“Proud of you.”

And Finn realized that not only did his dad mean it, but thathemeant it.

He was proud of himself.

Time to go to work.

Epilogue

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