“I’ll be right here.”
Dad sat on the edge of his desk. “Come in and shut the door.”
I did as he asked.
“I wanted to talk to you here rather than waiting until we got home, because what I’m about to say comes from your coach and not from your dad.”
I gulped. “Okay.”
“Jordan, I’m proud of you.”
Excuse me, what?
“Um.” I didn’t know what to say.
“It’s not easy playing the bench and I know you’re not used to it. But you did your job and you played every minute with all you had. I appreciate your effort. You work hard and you’re an asset to our team and I’m glad you’re here.” He paused to smile. “That last part might have been more dad than coach.”
I rolled my eyes, fighting a grin. “Sixty-forty?”
He laughed. “More like eighty-twenty.” He pushed off his desk to hug me.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You’re welcome. Now, go celebrate with your teammates. I think Joe said everyone was headed over to the diner.”
“I’ll see what Asher wants to do.”
Dad glanced at the door. “He’s a good kid. Go easy on him, okay?”
“Who me?” I said, pointing at my chest.
“Yeah, you. You forget I know you.” Dad grabbed his jacket off a hook on the wall. I opened the door for both of us to find Asher standing right where I’d left him.
Dad pumped his eyebrows at me. “Have her home by midnight,” he said in his best dad voice.
“Yes, sir.” Asher nodded. He pushed away from the wall and reached for my hand. “Ready?”
I nodded. “See you later, Dad.”
We didn’t waste any time exiting the rink. Most of the team had already left and only a few straggling spectators remained. Asher led me to his car, parked in the middle of the lot by itself. When we reached the passenger’s side, instead of opening the door, he spun me around, his lips meeting mine.
“You have no idea how much I’ve been sweating it since I saw that list,” he said against my lips.
I gripped the front of his shirt and brought him closer. His mouth moved across mine. I loved kissing him.
“I’m not mad at you,” I said between kisses. “I have no right to be.”
Asher pulled back to look at me. “If it wasn’t for me you’d have started tonight.”
I shook my head. “No, if I played better than you, I would have started tonight. But I didn’t. I don’t. It’s not your fault you’re a better hockey player, Asher. It’s mine. If I want to play at the next level, then I have to play at the next level. And I’m not there yet. That’s on me.”
He leaned back against the car, his hands on my hips dragging me with him. I thought he might kiss me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he held me. With our bodies pressed together and my head on his chest, I felt an emotion I’d never experienced before. A closeness. A connection. Asher was beginning to really mean something to me. Maybe that explained why I didn’t hate him for being better than me, because fair or not, if it had been anyone else, I would have hated their guts.
“Maybe I could help you,” he said. “We could work out after practice instead of making out in the backyard.”
I put my hand over his mouth. “Don’t talk like that.” His eyes sparkled. “Making out with you is my favorite time of day.”
Huh.
Could it be true?
Hockey practice had always been my favorite time of day.
Had Asher replaced hockey in my heart? No. I didn’t believe it, not after such a short amount of time. But then, I remembered the words my dad had spoken a few weeks ago, when he reminded me to live my life and not everything revolved around hockey. I didn’t believe him when he said it, but now, I wondered if he might be right.
Asher pulled my hand away from his mouth. “Well, then we would never want to stop doing that, but how about we stay for an extra thirty minutes or so? My dad would be thrilled. And I don’t think yours would care, either.”
I knew mine wouldn’t. And it could be a lot of fun.
“We could do other stuff, too. Like weight training or speed training. My dad got me into speed training a few years ago. It’s changed my game more than anything else.”