Page 33 of On Thin Ice

“You sure?” Finn did regret it now, because he’d pushed him into this.

But Jacob just nodded. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” Jacob said. Finn reminded himself that if Jacob didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have to. If he didn’t want Finn around, he’d just tell him to fuck off—or not bother texting him in the first place.

Finn didn’t think Jacob would do that, though. Not now. But still, that didn’t mean he was ready to go back to the ice. Maybe he would be someday.

But he wasn’t today, and Finn needed to make his peace with it.

Chapter 6

JacobhadtoldFinnhe’d think about practice, and he’d meant it, but to his surprise, the thought lingered.

Through him seeing Finn off. Through his shower.

All evening, through the TV he watched, forcibly trying to turn his goddamn mind off.

He was lying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, when he suddenly wondered if the reason the thought kept hanging around was because hewantedto do it.

Maybe not go one-on-one with Finn. Maybe not go to every practice. But to strap his skates back on and see what he could do to help? Yes.

The last thought he had before falling asleep was that he’d call Coach Blackburn—Gavin, the man had insisted Jacob call him, when they’d met up earlier this fall—first thing in the morning.

It didn’t happen, though.

Instead, he cycled through everything he could find, giving himself anything and everything to do but make the phone call. He wanted it, yes, but it also terrified the shit out of him.

“Stop this,” he told himself as he finished wiping out his nearly bare refrigerator. “You’re braver than this.”

Was he though?

Moira would’ve told him there was nothing to be gained by being hard on himself, but it was hard when Jacob could look back over the morning and see every fucking thing he’d done to avoid making the phone call.

Wallowing in bed, which he’d excused because he’d had restless sleep—thanks to the dream of a naked, sweaty Finn dancing in his head.

Extra-long workout, even though his hip had been screaming from the night before.

Followed by an equally lengthy shower and breakfast.

Then scouring the kitchen and the fridge, even though his cleaning service was supposed to be stopping by tomorrow.

Jacob collapsed onto the couch and pulled his phone out. Stared at the screen for a long moment.

Then finally dialed.

He really hoped that he’d just have to leave a voicemail but a kind, gruff voice answered on the second ring.

Jacob made a face, glad he wasn’t on FaceTime.

“Jacob, I’m glad you called,” Gavin said, sounding pleased and surprised.

Jacob made another face. “Yeah,” he said. “I . . .uh . . .”Stop this fucking waffling. Either you wanna help Finn or you don’t.“I was wondering if that offer from earlier in the year was still open. Helping out with some coaching.”

“Sure is,” Gavin said. He didn’t ask specifically, but Jacob knew he had to be wondering. “The offer’s always open, if you want to stop by practice. I can send you a schedule, so you can just drop by whenever, or if you have a more specific timeframe in mind . . .”

Jacob wasn’t stupid; he knew Gavin was digging to know exactly what had motivated this change of attitude.

He shouldn’t tell him about him and Finn—not that there was anything specific to tell. But anytime he paired up with a Reynolds it would undoubtedly be big news in the hockey community.

Still, Gavin was Finn’s coach. He should know the truth. Maybe if he even knew some of what Jacob was trying with him, he could reinforce the ideas.