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We both laugh and I blush.

“You know,” I say, softening looking at the earplugs, “this is weirdly thoughtful.”

He leans in slightly. “What can I say? I’m a man of mystery. And excellent hearing.”

I shake my head. “Well, mystery man, thanks again.”

He nods once, then takes a step back. “If you and Kira want to come to another game, let me know. I’ll leave a couple tickets at will call.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“Good,” he says, and starts walking.

I close the door slowly, earplugs in hand, heart just a little louder than it was a moment ago.

Because it was just a knock.

Just earplugs.

But now it feels like something is beginning.

Chapter seven

Nate

Idon’t do well with chaos and have no experience with kids. Which is probably why Parker thought it’d be hilarious to volunteer me for a LifeSpark Kids skate session at the local community rink.

“Come on,” he said. “Just an hour. Kids love hockey players.”

He left out the part where said kids would be wiping out every three seconds, screaming with joy, and somehow managing to turn a simple skate into a demolition derby.

I step onto the ice in full gear with skates laced tight, helmet tucked under one arm, and gloves in hand. Within seconds, I instantly dodge a kid barreling past in a helmet too big for his head.

“Mr. Jones!” a volunteer waves from the boards. “Thanks again for coming!”

“No problem,” I call, plastering on a smile. “Glad to be here.”

Kind of.

A girl, maybe eight or nine, skates up to me with cheeks red from effort and a wobble in her stride. Her helmet slips slightly over her eyes.

“You’re the defenseman,” she says breathlessly. “The one that blocked that shot with your body.”

I grin. “That’s me.”

She beams. “I was watching with my family. My dad stood up and fist-pumped when you did that. Said you’ve got ‘old-school grit.’”

I bark out a laugh. “High praise. Tell your dad, thank you.”

She eyes me seriously. “Do you ever get scared to fall in front of everyone?”

I blink. Didn’t expect that.

“Yeah,” I admit. “Sometimes. But falling’s not the problem. It’s the getting back up part that counts.”

She tilts her head. “That’s what Miss Tracy says. She's my gym teacher."

“She sounds smart.”