Page 65 of On Thin Ice

Obviously Finn had not been present then, but even now, he thought that might be one of the more uncharacteristic things Morgan Reynolds had ever done.

Of course, uncharacteristic didn’t mean successful and they’d gotten divorced when Finn was five.

He and his mom talked much less than he and his dad, for a few reasons.One, Morgan seemed virtually incapable of leaving him the fuck alone, andtwo, his mom had remarried a studio exec in Hollywood and had two young sons. He knew his mom loved him, but she was so busy.

Finn didn’t resent that exactly, but he couldn’t say helikedit either.

Morgan cleared his throat. “I like to think you’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“Mistakes? You?”

Normally that kind of comment might piss his dad off. But then that was usually when hefinallygot ahold of Finn, and also after Finn had probably made half a dozen other flippant remarks all designed to rile him up.

But this time, he only chuckled under his breath. “You know I make them, every once in awhile.”

“Every once in awhile,” Finn retorted mildly.

“I didn’t call you to talk about me,” Morgan reminded him.

No, of course he hadn’t.

“Right,” Finn said. Pulled out a suit, fingers sliding along the fabric. Would he dare? Hewantedto dare.

If he dared, he had a feeling that tonight would end very differently than Saturday. Than last night. If he wanted it.

And hewantedit. Wanted Jacob.

“It really was a great game,” Morgan said. “Other than that little bit right before the end of the first period. But you recovered well.”

“I know,” Finn said matter-of-factly. Suddenly wondered if his dad had seen Jacob on the camera as he’d come down to the ice from the stands. Or if the broadcast had already panned away, going to commercial break. But if he had, that’s what Morgan would’ve led with, first thing.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly. I learned what I needed to from it.”

His dad was silent again, and Finn knew he’d surprised him again.

Considering how Morgan could be, Finn decided that was a positive.

“You hear from the Sentinels?”

Finn ground his teeth together. Of course, he wouldn’t just give up; he’d keep pushing.

“They emailed me. They’re happy with how I’m progressing,” Finn said. Trying to stay calm and only mostly succeeding.

“Nothing about camp next year?”

“No,” Finn said, through clenched teeth.

“I’m heading to Tampa next week, actually, I could talk to them an—”

“No,” Finn said.

“But—”

“Don’t say you only want to help. Don’t say you’re only doing it for me,” Finn said. And he was annoyed now. Annoyed because it always started this way, reasonable and conversational, and italwaysdevolved into this pseudo-pressure bullshit.

Morgan said nothing.

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