Page 63 of On Thin Ice

“Ah.” Jacob reached over and took Finn’s empty cup and tossed both of them into a nearby trash can.

“Did you always hate those too?”

“I didn’tlikethem,” Jacob said. “But I understood why they were necessary. They make you better. They make your offense better.”

“Ugh, not you too,” Finn complained.

“Okay, why do you hate them?”

Finn shot him a look. “You know why.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I want you to say it.”Out loud,Jacob didn’t add,so you can hear how ridiculous it sounds.

“I hate them because it makes me look bad. Foolish. Outmatched. Over and over again. And it means that not only willIknow that, the whole team’s gonna know that, too.”

Finn got to the end of this and then winced. He shot Jacob a rueful look. “It’s really stupid, isn’t it?”

“Not stupid. Do you really believe you’re bad? Foolish? Outmatched?”

Finn shook his head.

“And does the team believe that?”

“No,” Finn said quietly.

“There you go. It does suck. You want to do well. You want to show them you’ve earned their respect and their belief in what you can do. But one drill isn’t enough to change any of that, not even close. You know that, Finn.”

“I also . . .just . . .” Finn stopped. Looked over at Jacob. “Why does this have to suck so much?”

“Playing hockey?”

“No, no, no.” Finn hesitated. “You know what.”

“Ah. Well.” Jacob shoved his hands into his pockets. They’d managed tonotget deep into the weeds tonight, unlike Saturday. He’d been doing his best to steer them clear, but maybe there was no real steering them clear. Not when he felt the way he did. Not when the attraction flared between them, every time Jacob looked over at Finn. Not when he knew how much Finn felt it, too.

“I shouldn’t have pushed Saturday.” Finn sounded morose again.

And Jacob hated that, even more.

“None of that,” Jacob said and grabbed the metaphorical red-hot potato in his hands, tugging Finn into a tight hard hug. He’d hugged teammates like this a thousand times over the years, and it should’ve felt the same. It didn’t. But he was going to at least pretend—one day at a time—that it did.

Finn let him go. “You came even though you were worried,” he said.

“Worried about you? Yeah, I was.” He had been. He’d heard the sound of Finn’s voice and he’d been there, too, more times than he wanted to remember.

He’d wanted to take the pain away. Bear it for Finn, even if it was only for a little while.

“Worried about this,” Finn said, gesturing between them.

“Thisisn’t going to stop me,” Jacob said firmly.

Finn stared at him for a long moment. “You’re a good guy. A . . .a good coach.”

Jacob thought maybe he’d wanted to say something else, but he’d settled for the simple, easy, non-problematic answer instead.

He should be happy that Finn had.

But he found himself wondering what Finn had wanted to say instead, long after he dropped him off.

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