Page 93 of On Thin Ice

“I would have your ass on the ground right now, but Finn doesn’t want me to do it, so I’m not,” Jacob said conversationally.

“Oh, like youalmostpunched me at the last All Star Game?” No question about it, it was a taunt. Jacob knew Morgan’s words were a taunt, but they still riled him up anyway.

But they could rile him up all he wanted; he didn’t have to act on them.

“Never had to punch you to kick your ass,” Jacob said.

Morgan went pale as a ghost.

Shit. Finn had said no blood, but even though there wasn’t any visible red gushing out of Morgan right now, Jacob could still see it dripping down onto the floor. And he’d done that.

You dumbass, you’re supposed to be making him hate youless, not more.

“Listen,” Jacob said and reached out for Morgan, not to punch him, but to put a reassuring hand on his arm. But he’d barely done anything before Morgan was shucking him off, a hard look on his face.

“No,” Morgan said. “We don’t have to do this.”

He looked tired. Jacob didn’t want to sympathize with him, to wonder whathislife had really been like after retirement. If it had been anything like Jacob’s—a constant struggle to feel relevant, even to himself. If all his accomplishments, going fromsuccess to success, had only been a smoke screen. Jacob didn’t want to know, and he definitely wasn’t going to fucking ask, either.

But now Jacob wondered, and that was almost worse.

“We’ve been doing this for years,” Jacob said.

“And I thought you were tired of it,” Morgan said. But he was the one who looked exhausted. Worn-out and worn down in a way that he’d never looked when he was playing. Back then, he’d been full of fire; always pushing, never giving an inch, lit from within by that drive that never seemed to slow down.

But time slowed everyone down. Brought everyone down to the same fucking level. Even Morgan Reynolds.

“I’ve always been tired of it,” Jacob admitted. It was too late for them to mend fences in more than the most superficial way. Especially when it was all going to blow up anyway, once Morgan discovered that he wasn’t just coaching Finn.

That he was in love with Finn.

Jacob’s knees wobbled, and they nearly gave out.

He had a feeling he must’ve gone just about as white as Morgan, because Morgan looked suddenly alarmed and it was him reaching out for Jacob now, steadying him.

“You alright?” he asked roughly.

“I’m fine,” Jacob said.Just freaking out because I love your son. No big deal.

Morgan looked at him more carefully. “You don’t look fine. You look like you’re freaking out.” He pursed his lips. Jacob knew what he was thinking.You’re freaking out because of me, and I can’t figure out why.

That was technically true, Jacob supposed. Hewasfreaking out, in a very tangential way because of Morgan. But it was so much more than that. HelovedFinn. He never wanted to leave him, and he never wanted Finn to leave him. And how weretheyevergoing to get that happily ever after? It felt distant and frankly, just plain fucking impossible.

“Really, it’s . . .I’m fine.”

“You’re a shit liar.” The corner of Morgan’s mouth tilted up, so much like his son’s and yet so much like his own. “Always have been.”

“Yeah, well you’d know,” Jacob muttered.

“Come on,” Morgan said and actually fucking sat down in the first row of seats and gestured next to him. “If you’re gonna coach Finn, we should be able to sit next each other without wanting to commit murder.”

On still wobbly legs, Jacob boosted himself over the boards. Took the seat Morgan had indicated.

“Despite what you’ve always believed, I never felt a single murderous inclination towards you. Wasn’t ever worth it,” Jacob said.

Morgan laughed. “Wish I could say the same.”

“I get it, you know?” Jacob steeled himself. Morgan was going to hate this, maybe even more than anything else, even the fact that Finn had spent the last two nights in his bed, not really sleeping.

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