Page 46 of Seal the Deal

And a damn bit more than just her friend.

Chapter fifteen

You’ve gone full dad mode

Jake

The ice feels different tonight. It’s an away game and the crowd’s loud, hostile even, but that’s nothing new. I’m used to it. Away games always bring a different kind of intensity. But tonight, as I skate out, there’s this nagging thought in the back of my mind, one I’ve been trying to push away since we left town.

I haven’t seen Charlie or the kids since our zoo date last weekend. It’s only been about a week, but damn, I miss them more than I thought I would. It’s like there’s this empty space in my chest that only they can fill, and being away is harder than I expected.

As we line up for a face-off, one of the other team’s wingers skates by, smirking. “Hey, Brooks, heard your contract’s up this season. Think you’ll get another one, or are you headed for the retirement home?”

I shoot him a look. “Keep talking, kid. Maybe you’ll figure out how I keep scoring on you.”

He laughs. “Easy, Grandpa. Don’t pull a groin on us.”

I tune him out, focusing on the puck and the play. I’ve heard it all before, the chirps about my contract, but tonight it digs a little deeper. Not playing with the team I love is a possibility I’ve been pushing aside, but it’s creeping in tonight.

The game moves fast. We’re back and forth, trading hits and shots, and I’m determined to make my presence known. The cold air bites at my face as I streak down the ice, skates slicing through the noise of the crowd. I take the hit against the boards hard, shoulder-first, the impact rattling through my chest. But I push through, adrenaline dulling the pain as I focus on the puck, the play, the goal.

Midway through the second period, I finally get the chance I’ve been waiting for. We’re on the power play, moving the puck around, looking for a gap. Logan threads a perfect pass my way, and I don’t even settle the puck. I wind up and let it fly—a clean one-timer that beats the goalie glove-side. The puck snaps into the twine with a satisfying thud.

I raise my stick as the red light flashes, a grin splitting my face as the boys swarm me, clapping my helmet, celebrating the goal. I point at Logan as I skate past, letting him know that was all him—the perfect assist. He grins like he’s just won the lottery.

As I pass the other team’s bench, one of their defensemen mutters loud enough for me to hear, “Enjoy it while you can, old man. That contract’s ticking down.”

I smirk as I skate backward, locking eyes with him. “Keep counting the days, kid. I’ll still be scoring on you when I’m collecting my pension.” His scowl deepens, but I turn away, knowing I’ve made my point.

The game is a battle, but we hold our ground, and when the final buzzer sounds, we’re on top. In the locker room, the atmosphere is light, full of laughter and banter as we strip out of our gear.

Chase sidles up as I’m tossing my pads into my bag. “So, big man,” he says, voice dripping with mischief, “we all saw that little unicorn drawing in your locker back home. You got a mini fan club now?”

A few of the guys chuckle, and I roll my eyes, smirking despite myself. “It’s from Meadow. Charlotte’s little girl.”

Chase nods sagely. “Because a crayon drawing keeps you focused on hockey, right?”

I grab a towel, slinging it over my shoulder, and turn to face him with a mock-serious expression. “You’d know, Walton, if you ever managed to get past a first date and actually spend time with someone who has kids.”

There’s more laughter, but it’s all in good fun. The guys can joke all they want about that drawing, but it means more to me than any trophy.

Ryan chimes in from his locker. “Leave him alone, Walton. At least Brooks has got something real going on.”

“You’ve gone full dad mode already, huh?" Eli chuckles from the bench. "Next thing we know, you’ll be driving a minivan and coaching little league.”

I snort, shrugging it off as I unlace my skates. “I’ll stick to hockey, thanks. But yeah… get used to the idea of me being around her more.”

Ryan gives me a serious look, something between approval and warning in his eyes. “You know it’s a big step, right? Being with someone who has kids.”

“Yeah, I know.” I grab my notebook from my bag. “This isn’t a game to me, though.”

Flipping it open, I jot down some thoughts from the game: the goal, the plays, even some of the chirps. I add three stars to the page, too.

Logan, still riding the high from his assist, glances over as I finish up. “What’s that for?”

“Just a tool for getting my head right, game-wise. Helps me go over plays or whatever’s on my mind.”

Chase can’t help himself. “Yeah, or maybe it’s just your poetry journal, Brooks. ‘Ode to a Rookie’ and all that.”

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