Page 21 of Scoring Position

Ryan sat on the couch kitty-corner to Nico’s. “I owe you an apology.”

Nico’s head came up so fast, it almost gave Ryan whiplash. “What?”

Ryan winced. “The Grouch thing. I was just trying to make the rookie feel better, but I didn’t have to throw you under the bus to do it. I shouldn’t have said it, and I’m sorry it caught on. I won’t say it again.”

Guys in the league had all kinds of nicknames they hated, but you could put up with a nickname you hated if you knew you were good at hockey and felt included. Right now, neither of those things applied to Nico.

Nico knitted his eyebrows, his face full of distrust. “Is this a joke?”

“No. The thing I said about the closet, that was a joke. This is a sincere apology. I’m softening you up because everything that comes after this is going to be harder to hear.”

“Can’t be much worse than what I’ve been telling myself,” Nico muttered.

“Maybe,” Ryan agreed. “What’ve you been telling yourself?” He leaned back a bit more and pretended to be relaxed. Hopefully that would look nonthreatening.

Nico crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders. “I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I—I was such abrat. I don’t know what’swrongwith me. It’s like I get stuck and all I can think about is messing up and I can’t get unstuck.”

“So, like, you keep going over the missed shot or pass in your mind, instead of focusing on the next one?”

“Yeah.” Nico sighed. “I know it doesn’t help, but I don’t know how to stop it.” He cast an uncertain glance Ryan’s way and looked down.

“Okay,” Ryan said when it was clear Nico wasn’t going to say anything else. “That sucks.”

Nico snorted. “Nothing new, then.”

Ironically, Ryan didn’t think encouraging Nico to talk about that would help right now. Whatever was going on with him was way beyond Ryan’s ability.

But hecouldnudge him toward actual, professional help. And thanks to that time he’d had to sit through his dad giving a webinar on this topic, Ryan actually had a decent strategy for that. “Can I ask something?” Nico shrugged. “Why won’t you talk to the mental-skills coach?”

Ryan hadn’t thought Nico could look any smaller, but he managed it.

“I know I probably—but I can’t, like, do it.” He shot pleading eyes at Ryan.

“That wasn’t actually a full sentence there, buddy. Are you saying you’re having trouble taking the step of making the appointment?” A nod. “Because you hate therapists?” Nico hesitated, then shook his head. God, this might take all night. “For a reason that I am probably never going to guess?”

Nod.

Ryan waited, but Nico said nothing.

Oh well. Worth a shot. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you make an appointment to talk to Barb.”

Nico opened his mouth, then shut it and swallowed.

Ryan took a deep breath and locked his gaze with Nico’s. “Look, you don’t think you’re the first hockey player this has ever happened to, do you? You’re working hard, but it’s not paying off. That’s making you miserable, and the more miserable you are, the worse you play. You’re one of the most gifted hockey players I’ve ever seen, and it is frankly painful to watch you struggle. But you can’tphysicallywork on a problem that’s in your head. So if you want to get better…?”

He waited.

Nico’s nod was a tiny, barely perceptible movement.

“Then you need to talk to Barb.”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding defeated but resigned. He did not, however, reach for his phone.

“Do you want some help? I can go with you to make the appointment or I can make the call for you. Hell, I can drive you to the damn appointment and wait outside, if you want. But you gotta talk to her.”

Nico swallowed. “Can you call? I don’t even have my phone.”

Well, that would explain why he didn’t reach for it.

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