Page 39 of On Thin Ice

“My dad. More than once.” Finn knew he shouldn’t have brought it up, but it was true, wasn’t it? And that was exactly what Finn was looking for—some magic bullet of advice that would mean he no longer gave a shit that his dad was Morgan Reynolds.

“Your dad is a special case,” Jacob said with a reluctant sigh. “He’s . . .he tries to get around that wall you build. Dig under your skin. You know that.”

“Yeah.” He knew. Probably better than anyone else. Eventually it had pushed his mom away, and she’d left.

It was what had given Finn the idea to move across country.

But distance to Morgan was nothing.

“But I also know this,” Jacob said, and he reached out, gripping Finn’s arm through its heavy pad. “Your dad is fucking proud of you. Does a shit job of showing it, but he is.”

Finn rolled his eyes. It was easier than arguing. Than saying the blunt words,No, he isn’t.

“Don’t do that. Heis. I know. He told me. More than once.”

“You? Hehatesyou,” Finn said, and wished, the moment the words were out of his mouth, that he hadn’t said them. Jacob knew it was true, of course, but he didn’t need to say them. Didn’t need to lash out, when all Jacob was doing was trying to help.

“I know.” Jacob said it matter-of-factly. “But that doesn’t mean he didn’t say it. Told me that someday, you’d be me, holding some hockey god back from breaking his own records.”

“He did not,” Finn said.

“He did,” Jacob argued. “How did Morgan become the best?”

“I don’t know,” Finn retorted. He’d wanted Jacob to help him, but it turned out, he didn’t actuallywantto talk about this.

“Yeah, you do. You just don’t want to talk about it or think about it—but that’s not doing you any fucking favors. You can’t ignore him and hope that it’ll mean you’ll stop giving a shit.”

“Yeah?” Finn felt temper spiking in him. Dredged up from that place inside him, the one Jacob was right, the place he tried to pretend didn’t exist.

The one that Jacob was forcing him to look at.

Jacob shot him a look, skated around the goal. Like he needed an extra minute. But that was Finn, who felt dangerously close to the edge of losing it. He was tired, but not tired enough.

“Has it helped so far?” Jacob wondered. But then he pushed more, because he knew, of course, that it hadn’t. “Come on, Finn. You know this. How did your dad become the best?”

“He had talent. Skill. But he worked his ass off, too.”

“Exactly. He drilled constantly. He never took a day off. He pushed himself every single moment. He never accepted less.”

Which is why he’s never accepted you.

That yawning chasm of hurt threatened to reach up and devour him whole.

Finn swallowed hard, pushing it back down, but he didn’t know how long he’d be able to hold it at bay.

But like Jacob knew, he drew close again, and this time it was his hands that pushed up Finn’s helmet. He turned his head, but Jacob reached out. Forced his gaze back. “I’m telling you this, I’mremindingyou of this, because this is what he’s like. To himself. To others. To every other person. You’re not special, Finn.”

The pain screamed.

“Don’t you think I know that?” His voice felt raw. Exposed.

“Not the way you think I mean. I mean, your dad’s hard on everyone. But he’s the hardest on himself. Once you accept that, once you accept that his approval isn’t ever coming, because he doesn’t even fucking accepthimself, it’s easier to brush him off.”

Finn knew that, of course. Nobody was as good as Morgan if they didn’t have a force inside, pushing them as hard as possible. But it had never occurred to him that as unrelenting as Morgan was towards Finn, the spotlight he shone inside himself was even brighter. Not ever letting a single thing go.

“That’s . . .” Finn trailed off.

“Sounds really fucking miserable? Yeah.” Jacob let go of his chin, but Finn could feel the ghost of his touch, even after it was gone. “Just remember that, okay?”

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