Page 26 of Almost Ours
I laughed, catching him before he could barrel into me. “Of course, I did,” I said, crouching down to his level. “You were amazing, buddy.”
Connor practically glowed at the praise, rocking on his heels. “And did you see when I passed the puck to Liam? He almost scored, too!”
“I saw everything,” I said, brushing some hair off his forehead. “You’re a natural out there.”
Nina’s phone buzzed and she glanced at the screen, her expression shifting. “I’ve got to take this. Be right back,” she said, her voice apologetic as she walked away.
I watched Nina disappear around the corner, my hand resting on Connor’s shoulder as I adjusted his jacket, fingers smoothing down the fabric in a familiar rhythm. Just something to keep my hands busy.
A shadow stretched across the floor beside us, and I jumped before I could stop myself. My heart jolted. It was just skates on the rubber flooring.
I looked up–and there he was.
Ryan stood a few feet away, his posture relaxed, hands loose at his sides, that same quiet confidence wrapped around him like a well-worn hoodie. This time, though, his smile was gentler. Softer. Still, I felt my spine straighten.
“Connor,” he said, nodding in greeting before crouching slightly to meet my son’s eyes. “You crushed it out there. That shot? Textbook. And the way you hustled back on defense? That’s the kind of teamwork we need.”
Connor lit up. “Really?”
“Really,” Ryan said with a slight grin, holding out his fist.
Connor bumped it enthusiastically, and the pride in his face made my chest tighten.
Then Ryan’s gaze shifted–briefly–to the coffee cup in my hand before lifting to meet mine.
I stiffened slightly, trying to steady my voice. “I, um… won’t spill this one.”
It was meant to be light, maybe even funny, but it came out a little flat.
Ryan’s smile tugged wider. “That’s a shame,” he said, tone easy. “I thought I really pulled off the coffee-stained look.”
I offered the faintest smile. “Maybe next time.”
He chuckled–low and genuine–and turned his attention back to Connor. “You’ve got a great kid.”
I swallowed hard. “Thanks,” I said, quieter than I intended. “He… he really loves hockey.”
Ryan’s eyes crinkled slightly, his voice calm and sincere. “It shows. He’s got drive–and he listens. That’s a good combination.”
I nodded, unsure what else to say. My tongue felt too big in my mouth, and I hated the way I was gripping my coffee like a lifeline. There was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel… seen, in a way I hadn’t been in years.
Connor thankfully stepped in. “Coach Ryan, can you show me that trick again? With the wrist shot?”
Ryan’s whole face lit up. “Absolutely. But only if you promise to practice it at home.”
Connor bounced on his toes. “Deal!”
Ryan laughed, the sound warm and rich. His eyes crinkled in the corners, the kind of smile that reached all the way up and made him look younger, more carefree. My heart did a ridiculous little flip, and I was beginning to feel lightheaded when–
“Coach Ryan!”
Liam’s voice shattered the moment, and we both turned as the boy jogged over, all boundless energy and wide eyes. “I was telling Connor that you used to play in the NHL! Can you tell us what it was like?”
The change in Ryan was subtle but immediate. His shoulders stiffened, the easy smile faltering just long enough for me to catch it before he covered it with a laugh.
“Well,” he said, scratching his beard with feigned nonchalance, “let me tell you–it's nothing compared to the pressure of coaching you guys.”
Liam and Connor burst into laughter, completely buying the deflection, but my eyes were fixed on Ryan. His gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening for just a split second before he forced another smile. There was a tension in his posture that hadn’t been there before, his body just a bit too rigid.
