Page 36 of Pucked Up

He chuckled. “That’s my boy.”

“I’m four years younger than you, Edwin. You don’t need to patronize me.”

He laughed more. “I have one more request if you’re feeling up for it.”

I wasn’t. “I don’t have a lot of time right now.”

“Doing what? Coaching your community league?” He laughed even harder, and I hated him for it. “Listen, we’re trying to get a couple of the past winners of the Reid Martin to attend, and one of them is not too far from where you’re at right now.”

It was strange to hear Reid’s name used like that. They’d named the trophy after him the year after he died for the most valuable player that year. I had no idea who the recipients had been since then. The most I’d done was write a statement about how pleased Reid would have been.

“Where is he?”

“Boston. But if my information is correct, he lives near you in the off-season. A…” He hummed, and I could hear him flipping through pages. “Ah, Micah Adams. Goalie for the Fury.”

The Legends and the Fury were the two rival PPHL teams in the area. I knew Jonah, and though I’d never been formally introduced to Micah, his reputation preceded him.

In more ways than one.

“Didn’t you send an invite?”

“I wasn’t sure how to do that since he’s you know. I don’t know what the polite word for it would be.”

“Christ, man. You’re the commissioner for the disabled hockey league, and you can’t say the word ‘blind’?”

He laughed like I was telling the world’s most hilarious joke. Fuck, I hated this man. “Would he be able to read the invitation?”

“You could send it in braille. Or email. Or…putain. Forget it. I’ll speak with him. He’s close to a couple of my team members.”

“Right. Boden Morin, isn’t it?”

I bristled. I didn’t expect Edwin to know who he was. “Don’t ask me to pull those strings. I can’t.”

He snorted. “No, of course not. I’ve been on with his father a few times. Great guy. We have golf in a couple of weeks.”

Of course they did. “I’ll see you soon, Edwin.”

“Oh. Well, do you think?—”

I hung up before he could finish his sentence, and I knew he wouldn’t call back. Give him ten minutes and he’d forget about the phone call entirely. His job was done. He could pat himself on the back for doing a good deed and put me out of his mind for the rest of his life.

If I was lucky, anyway.

Leaning forward, I dropped my elbows to my desk and pressed my face into my hands. “It should have been me, you know,” I told the ghost of Reid, who wasn’t there. “It would have been so much easier if it were me. You know I’m no good at all this shit. I wasn’t meant to make a difference to anyone.”

“You know that talking to yourself is a bad sign. But I have the number of a decent doctor if you need help.”

My gaze snapped up as Boden walked in. He was using his crutches, looking pissed off as always, and he slammed the door behind him.

Something in me snapped. I was on my feetbefore I was consciously aware of it, crossing the room until I was less than a centimeter from him. My fingers curled in the front of his shirt. “Next time you slam my door, I’m going to make you open and shut it over and over until you’ve learned some manners.”

He sucked in a breath, his cheeks darkening.

“Then I’ll make sure your ass feels a sting for a long while.”

“You promised that last time and failed to live up, so…”

I spun him, careful of his crutches. When I was sure he was steady on his feet, I shoved his chest against the door and went for the button and zipper on his jeans.

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