Page 37 of Lucky Shot
Nick’s truck smells like coffee. As I buckle into the passenger seat, I glance longingly at the to-go mug in the console. Coffee is my favorite meal of the day. Hopefully I can get some at the rink.
The three of us ride in silence for several minutes. I gave a lot of thought to the whole Nick has a son thing last night when he casually dropped it, but seeing Aidan has me thinking about it again.
“Are you married?” Something I probably should have considered sooner. Is there a Mrs. Grumpy Galaxy?
“What?” His brows furrow as he asks in aare you stupid?tone. “No.”
“My parents aren’t married,” Aidan says from the back seat. “My mom lives in Bozeman.”
Nick glances in the rearview mirror and frowns.
“Oh. Cool,” I say when no other words come to my mind. “Girlfriend?”
Aidan snorts. “Pop wishes.”
“All right. Pipe down back there.”
I curl my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing. Maybe Aidan isn’t so much like his dad after all.
“You aren’t exactly reeling in the ladies either,” Nick says to his son, and I think I detect a bit of an edge.
“I could have a girlfriend if I wanted one,” is Aidan’s reply.
“Me too,” Nick says.
And I don’t doubt it. There’s no way he has a problem attracting women…at least until he glowers at them. No, not even then.
At the rink, Aidan runs ahead of us, duffel bag slung over his shoulder and looking like it weighs more than him, into the building.
Nick and I are slower. He waits for me at the front of the truck, coffee in hand. He hasn’t so much as had a sip of it and the smell is killing me.
The parking lot is filled with cars and trucks. Parents dropping off their kids, all with big bulky bags like Aidan’s. Some of the smaller kids have someone walking them inside.
“Hey, Coach Nick,” a little girl calls to him, blond braids bouncing as she passes us by.
“Morning, Aubrey.”
She walks as fast as her little legs will carry her.
“There are more girls than I expected. Is hockey a coed sport in high school too?”
“No, but at this level it makes sense. I’m guessing you didn’t play as a kid?”
“I wouldn’t really be seeking expert advice if I had, now would I?”
“I did a summer of basketball, and I don’t remember shit about that, so maybe.” He holds the door open for me. As I step inside, the chill of the ice hits me. In all my preparations this morning, I forgot to dress in multiple layers. At least I’m in jeans, but a tube top was not the best choice.
I suck in a breath. “Wow. You’d think it would have created a core memory yesterday, considering I only got warm after taking a very hot shower.”
He notices me rubbing my arms and his jaw works back and forth, probably silently judging me for being so unprepared.
“I’ll survive.” I force out, not letting my teeth chatter. “Is there coffee around here somewhere?”
“No.” His brow knits. “There’s a small café but it doesn’t open until ten.”
“Oh, okay.” Ten o’clock. I can survive until then. Probably.
He looks down at his mug and then holds it out to me.
