Page 25 of On Thin Ice

“Nope—I wanna see what you’ve got.”

“But you’ve seen me . . .” Finn trailed off as he got his first skate laced up. Suddenly, he was nervous. What if hewascrap? What if that was what Jacob said, when he finally saw him in action?

What if he said forget it, that he couldn’t help Finn after all?

“Hey, cut that shit out.” In a second, before Finn could even react, Jacob was across the room, right in front of him, hand smacking him on the shoulder.

“I—”

“No. You wanna be confident,beconfident. Don’t think, I’m gonna play in front of Jacob and he’s gonna think I’m shitty. Instead, I’m gonna play in front of Jacob and he’s going to see that I’m better than he thought I was.I’mgonna see I’m better than I thought I was.” Jacob hesitated. “I can’t be the first person to tell you that. Not if you’ve seen any mindset coaches.”

“No,” Finn admitted.

“But you’re still doing it.”

“I got . . .” It was hard to admit, but maybe necessary. “I got sloppy. Complacent. Easier to let myself flail around than fight this all the time. I’m . . .I’mtiredof fighting it.”

Jacob’s gaze—that hard flinty darkness—softened a bit. “Doesn’t help to hear that you’re gonna be fighting that insecurity forever, does it?”

“No.” That had been his breaking point. That it would never change. Never go away. That he’d be pushing against it for as long as he played. And once he’d realized that, it had been easy to let it creep back in.

Easy to let it take back ahold of him, like it had never left.

“But we’re gonna find a way that it’s not so loud. That it’s not so tough to fight against,” Jacob said, and hedidsound confident that was true. “’Cause I’m gonna tell you, it’s not that I let things slide off easy. It never came easy. You give a shit about being good? It’snevergonna be easy.”

Finn wanted to be angry at Jacob’s bluntness, but it was hard when he was right.

He nodded, and Jacob raised up. “Stretch out and get yourself ready.” And to Finn’s surprise, he joined him on the bench, pulling on the worn pair of skates.

Finn glanced at him.

“How am I gonna show you if I don’t do it myself?” Jacob asked wryly.

“Lots of coaches don’t.”

“Well, I’m no coach,” Jacob said with finality.

Finn didn’t know if that pronouncement was meant for him or for Jacob himself, but he decided there was no point in arguing. He was only here by Jacob’s good graces, and if those evaporated . . .

He finished lacing up his skates and began his regular stretching routine.

Trying to ignore Jacob as he did the same.

Even as he tried to focus, it was almost impossiblenotto look at the muscular curve of Jacob’s ass in those gray sweatpants as it slowly rose and fell.

Finn tore his gaze away, digging his fingers into his palms. He wasn’t here for sex, even though it felt like it had crawled, uninvited, into every moment of silence that fell between them.

“You ready?” Jacob asked, interrupting his litany ofdon’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it . . .

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

Jacob shot him a look.

“I’m ready,” Finn revised.

Maybe he didn’t feel supremely confident, but he could fake it at least well enough that Jacob might believe it. And if he was very, very good, maybe evenhe’dbelieve it.

Jacob had a variety of sticks on a rack on the wall, behind the goal. Finn skated over, testing out the new skates, and after a minute perusing the selection, picked one.

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