Page 65 of Shift Change

“How long until Christmas?” Chuck asked.

I glanced at my watch. “About fifteen minutes.”

“That’s amazing. Here we are walking down the beach at night in warm-weather clothes, ready to sing ‘Silent Night.’”

I snorted. “You meanyou’reabout ready to sing. You think my dancing is bad, you should hear me croaking. My fifth-grade music teacher said a mooing cow sounded better than me.”

He stopped and whirled around to face me. “The fuck? What a horrible thing to say to a kid. Did that really happen?”

“As sure as I’m walking on the beach with a gorgeous hockey player.”

“That really sucked.” He’d raised his voice, and when I glanced at him, there was fire in his eyes. “Let’s go find them, and I’ll kick their ass into hell.”

“It’s okay, Chuck. That was years ago.”

“I don’t care how long ago it was. You don’t hurt a little kid like that. Fuck that teacher.”

I saw why they must have started calling him Mad Dog. We were friends, and he was ready to fight somebody for hurting my feelings when I was in elementary school.

He looked around and then kissed my cheek. “Sing with me, sweets.” He started in with ‘Silent Night,’ and when I hesitated, he mouthed a quick “please” between words.

His voice was sweet, and I couldn’t resist joining in. We were both grinning by the time we finished the last “Sleep in heavenly peace.”

“You have agoodvoice,” he said. “It’s deep and comforting. You can sing to me anytime.”

My heart tightened, and I was so happy, I couldn’t come up with a smartass remark. “Thanks, but you definitely carried me.”

“That’s bullshit because you did great. Know what?”

The fire was back in his eyes, but less agitated now. “What?”

“We’re going to sing every day. Alone at first, but who knows—we might leave hockey and move to Nashville.”

There it was, the spark in my soul that happened when he said things like that. I still couldn’t think of a funny retort, so I went with my heart. “I’ll sing with you anytime. Thanks for doing this because it’s a real gift.”

We started walking again, and he moved closer until our arms touched. Though we remained silent, happiness filled my heart.

After a few minutes, he asked, “The breeze feels great, huh? Must have cooled down at least ten degrees.”

“It’s amazing. Too hot for me this afternoon, but this feels perfect.”

He stopped again and turned to face me. The moonlight caught his eyes, making them glimmer. “Being here with you is the best,” he said. “I needed a few days off from running into big guys racing full speed down the ice.”

“Me too.”

He nodded. “Our teammates are a lot of fun and all, but I needed a break from them too. You let me be me. No one else has ever seen me the way you do.”

A shiver ran up my spine. “Let’s walk. It’s chilly standing here.”

He nodded again, and we headed down the beach. I ran the back of my hand across his. “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else, babe.”

“Good thing we’re together then.” His voice was husky. “I’m happy.”

“Same.” I swallowed hard before picking up on what he’d told me before. “You said I let you be you. Who else would you be?”

“You may not understand, but…” He blew out a hard breath. “Sometimes ‘Mad Dog’ feels fake. There are certain ways I have to act and talk, crack a lot of jokes, and never be too serious. But Ifeelserious a lot of times. It hurts when I have to hide that.”

His words dug into me, and feelings surfaced that I’d never voiced to anyone. Here, on a dark beach with Chuck, I felt safe. “I know exactly what you mean because I feel like ‘Holky’ is a role I play. My character’s job is to keep everyone laughing and be the life of the party, but I don’t usually feel like doing any of that. I’d like to listen for once, not carry the responsibility of beingHolky.”

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