Page 43 of On Thin Ice

Finn already had his helmet on, his literal game face on, and Jacob couldn’t see his face, his eyes. Root out how he was feeling. He’d texted him earlier today, and Finn had just sent a thumbs-up.

“We’ve been working on fundamentals, which he’s pretty good at already,” Jacob said. “Honestly, his only really bad habit is doubting himself.”

“Ah,” Bryan said knowingly.

Jacob had attended the one practice this week, and all things considered, ithadgone well. Afterwards, he’d considered offering for Finn to come back to the house later in the week, but he’d chickened out at the last moment, deleting the text invite letter by letter, like it had never existed at all. Next week he’d already booked ice for the two of them, mid-morning, when Finn wasn’t in class.

That felt reasonably safer than his own basement gym, where nobody might ever see what happened there but the two of them.

Still he’d spent days pretending like he wasn’t watching his phone, gazing at the empty screen like a lovesick teenager with his first fucking crush. He’d told himself the whole time he had this handled, but considering he’d driven an hour south to see Finn play in an away gameanddragged his brother along, Jacob was beginning to think he was full of shit.

This morning, Bryan had seemed like a good safety net. Surely his older brother would call him out, delivering a much-needed lecture about why this whole thing was a terrible fucking idea.

But with every knowing look Bryan shot in his direction, it seemed more likely that Bryan would invoke some medical professional bullshit and tell him he needed to get laid.

“Does he know you showed up tonight?” Bryan asked after the puck dropped.

Jacob tore his gaze away from the action on the ice as the line changed.

“No, I didn’t tell him.” He wasn’t going to tell Bryan how long he stared at his phone this afternoon, thinking about how he’d phrase it, and what Finn might say back.I want to see you,even if it’s only on the icehad seemed like a monumentally bad choice, but he’d been tempted to send it anyway.

He’d punished himself for it by blocking two hundred shots and then sweating out all his bad impulses in the sauna after.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell him.”

“I didn’t want to . . .it was easier . . .” Jacob cleared his throat. “Better this way.”

“Easier, huh? So you didn’t chicken out?”

“No.No.” Jacob’s attention snapped back to the ice as the Phantoms charged towards the goal Finn guarded.

He could read Finn’s mind in every twitch of his body. Every blink Jacob couldn’t see but could only sense.

Jacob tensed as Finn blocked one shot, then another, then finally smothered the puck by falling on it.

“That was good, yeah?” Bryan asked, patting Jacob’s arm.

“You know shit about hockey, but yeah. Pretty good. He controlled the execution and then the recovery, so he could block the rebound shots.”

“And here I was thinking it was just about you throwing your big hulking body around,” Bryan teased, even though thanks to Jacob, he’d been around hockey for twenty-plus years now.

Jacob rolled his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s fun to get a rise out of you. About hockey or about . . .” Bryan trailed off, gaze skimming across the ice and resting on Finn.

“Don’t start.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, all tense and shaky over a hockey game. Which means it’s not just a hockey game—”

“Maybe I just want him to play well so I don’t have to keep coaching him,” Jacob snapped.

He took a breath and opened his mouth to apologize, but before he could, he realized Bryan was actually laughing.

“You don’t actually believe that,” Bryan said between chuckles. “No—you don’t. Which is why you brought me. As what?”

“Sanity. Logic. A voice of reason.” Jacob didn’t want to admit it, but maybe if Bryan knew, hemighterr on the side of those things, instead of telling him he needed to get laid.

“Ah.”

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