Page 29 of On Thin Ice

“And really good players would learn how to take advantage.” Jacob hesitated. “If your dad had still been playing, you don’t think he wouldn’t have shot towards that opposite corner every single damn time?”

He would’ve. It would’ve been the only smart thing to do, against a partially hampered goalie, even a goalie who’d figured out how tomostlyget around it. And Morgan wouldn’t have even been wrong to do it.

“See, you get it,” Jacob said, and Finn really hated the heavy resignation in his tone.

“I do,” Finn said, and something in his voice must’ve finally caught Jacob’s attention, because he lifted his head, their eyes meeting.

“Yeah?”

“Watching you do that, like you just did, it . . .” Finn took a deep breath. “I feel different. Not alotdifferent, but different.”

“A good start then.” Jacob motioned to the goal. “Come on, let’s try it again.”

Finn didn’t argue. Just took the helmet and the stick.

It was easier to sink into that headspace this time around, now that he understood it a little better.

And he was deep into the hundred shots before he mistimed slightly, and one slipped by him.

Finn growled deep in his throat, annoyed with himself, but Jacob called out, his presence registering for the first time in what felt like dozens of shots, “It’s all good. Re-focus. Finish strong.”

And he did, not letting in a single other puck for the rest of the series.

“Better,” Jacob said, when it was finally over, giving Finn a single nod of approval that he’d probably see when he closed his eyes tonight, exhausted and wrung out but still caught on the man in front of him.

“Thanks,” Finn said. Suddenly realizing justhowtired he was.

He skated over to the bench and hunched over, untying his skates. Jacob followed him, gingerly setting himself down.

“You alright?” Finn asked, glancing over as Jacob winced, shifting around on the hard bench like he was trying to find a more comfortable position.

“Oh yeah. Just . . .just a little stiff. Should’ve stretched while you were doing your second round, but I got caught up . . .”

Finn wondered if Jacob had gotten caught up the same way he had, when he’d watched Jacob.

But before he could open his mouth and ask this potentially very stupid question, real pain crossed over Jacob’s face.

“What is it? You okay?” Worry spiked inside Finn. Did Jacobnotnormally do this and he’d only done it today in order to coach Finn? Had he been doing it to show off and now he’d fucked up his hip even more?

If that was true, then Finn shouldn’t feel guilty—that was all on Jacob. But guilt swamped him anyway.

“I . . .ugh . . .just normally use the sauna right after, to prevent it from—” Jacob exhaled sharply. “To prevent it from locking up.”

“Like it’s doing right now?” Finn didn’t tell him that he shouldn’t have waited through his second round. He didn’t have to; Jacob already knew.

“Yeah,” Jacob ground out. He glanced over at a small door, set into the other side of the gym that Finn assumed led to his sauna.

He bent down, like he was going to unlace his skates, but his wince was obvious.

Finn didn’t think; he just acted.

Slid down to the floor at Jacob’s feet, fingers picking at the knots he’d tied into the laces. Reached up and put a hand on Jacob’s knee, for leverage. Froze whenhefroze.

“This okay?” Finn asked, worried that somehow he’d hurt him more.

“I . . .” Jacob trailed off, his dark eyes intent on Finn’s. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I know. But I want to.” The lace finally came untied, and Finn braced Jacob’s foot against his thigh, pulling sharply.

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