Page 86 of Cold As Ice

I nodded and headed off the ice toward the locker room.

“What did Coach want?” Mason asked me as we hit the benches.

“I’m assuming he wants to talk about my plan.”

“You have one of those?” He smirked, and I jabbed him in the side with my elbow as I moved ahead of him.

It was no secret I didn’t have my future all mapped out. And although I’d always wanted a future in professional hockey, lately, I wasn’t sure. The draft had always seemed so far away, but it was fast approaching, and I knew Coach wanted to know my intentions.

But the truth was, I didn’t like to think beyond life at LU. Past losing my friends, the teammates forged some semblance of a family with me. Maybe I didn’t wear my heart on my sleeve or open up over a beer or two like the rest of them. But my days at Lakeshore U were some of my best.

I’d found purpose here.

A home.

The idea that it was almost time to say goodbye to that left me feeling bitter. Reopened old wounds, wounds I’d worked hard to keep closed over the years.

“Hey, Austin, you good?”

I blinked over at Mason and nodded.

Was it that fucking obvious that something inside me had changed?

I mean, aside from being a grumpy asshole since Noah had declared his intentions where Rory was concerned.

I made quick work of changing and headed to Coach’s office, knocking once before I slipped inside.

“Ah, Austin, just the man I wanted to see.”

“What’s up, Coach?”

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. “I had an interesting chat with the head of recruitment up in Vancouver yesterday. Their second goalie has been struggling this season, and they’re looking to bring in some fresh blood. Your name came up.”

“The Canucks, wow. That’s… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything yet. I know Vancouver is on the other side of the country, but this is the NHL, son. You’d be a fool not to think about it.”

“I will, Coach, thanks.” I stood, needing some air.

I couldn’t really explain it, but my skin suddenly felt too tight, and I couldn’t quite get air into my lungs.

When I was a boy, I’d dreamed of playing for the Blue Jackets or the Penguins. I hadn’t imagined moving three thousand miles across the country to Canada.

But it wasn’t like I’d be leaving much behind. I didn’t have anywhere to call home—hadn’t ever since I’d left Syracuse, moved to Lakeshore, and never looked back.

Lakeshore was the home I’d made for myself. But what would I do when everyone else eventually moved on? Bum around? Get a shitty job and watch the rest of the guys go off and chase their dreams?

Hockey had always been my constant. The one thing I could count on. In a lot of ways, it had become my crutch and a form of therapy over the years. A way to hone my anger, and to take all my frustrations out in a controlled manner. It taught me how to deal with unwanted emotions, and how to direct my negative thoughts and funnel them into skill and determination on the ice.

Maybe a fresh start would do me good. Somewhere where no one knew me—where I had a chance to finally leave my past behind me and become the man I’d always wanted to be.

Only, I had no idea who that was.

* * *

The house was empty when I got back from practice. The guys had gone to The Penalty Box to meet the girls for dinner. But I’d declined, not wanting to play third or fifth or even seventh wheel.

I made myself something to eat and worked at the breakfast counter to finish up an assignment, making the most of the peace and quiet.

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