Page 44 of Offside Secrets
He’s right, I know he’s right, but there’s this knot in my stomach that won’t loosen. Part nerves, part excitement, part something else I can’t quite identify.
“What about you, and leaving River City?” I hold out my hands and look nostalgically at the tiny kitchen. We’ve lived here for so long, I have to admit it’s going to be weird when I go this time.
“Alexandria is only two hours by car, a little more by train. And if I really want to, I can get on a plane,” he says easily. “Also, don’t do this to yourself.”
I narrow my eyes and watch as he takes a sip of his coffee. “Do what?”
“Get ahead of yourself. Get the game behind you and getan offer, then we can worry about the other stuff.” He holds his mug in the air. “Until then, here’s to eggs.”
“Yeah,” I manage as I chuckle. “Not these eggs. These eggs are complicated. I didn’t pay enough attention to them, I wasn’t focusing, and I overcooked them.”
Dad laughs. “It’s just eggs.”
“Except breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
“But still…” He points to my plate. “Just eggs. And they can be redone.”
“These eggs should be a comparison to my life.”
“Okay, it’s feel bad for Campbell hour,” he says, crossing his arms, threading them tightly in front of his chest and staring at me. “What else is going on? Because this doesn’t feel like we’re talking about the scout or eggs anymore.”
How do I explain Sutton to my father? How do I tell him that right when my career might be taking off, I’ve gone and fallen for my boss? That success might mean leaving behind something that could be amazing?
“It’s honestly too much to get into,” I trepidatiously begin.
“Ah, this is not my first rodeo,” Dad interjects as he leans back in his chair, a knowing look crossing his face. “I know this face, this look. There’s a woman.”
“Dad—”
“Is it serious?”
I think about the elevator, about the way Sutton looked when she said we shouldn’t, about the text she just sent asking about my morning.
“Could be,” I say honestly.
“And she’s connected to the team somehow.”
It’s not a question. Dad’s too smart for his own good sometimes.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that could complicate things.” He nods slowly, processing. “Depending on her role, I guess.”
I snort back a laugh. “Understatement of the year.”
He leans forward and squeezes my shoulder. “You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you’re overthinking this. Play the game, see what happens. If Alexandria wants you, if they make an offer, you’ll be in a position to deal with the rest of it then. Don’t borrow trouble, not now. Clear everything else out of your mind until this game is behind you. There is no me, no complication with some woman, there is your team. Your coach. You. On the ice. Shooting your shot.”
He makes it sound so simple. Just play hockey, let everything else sort itself out. But as I sit there in our small kitchen, looking at my father’s swollen hands and thinking about Sutton’s smile, I know it’s anything but simple.
Thursday’s game could change everything.
My phone buzzes again.
Also, thank you for what you said in the elevator. I’ve been thinking about your words, about you. About not having to handle things alone.
