Page 49 of Lucky Shot (Moonshot Hockey #1)

“Me?” His brows lift as he flashes me what appears to be a genuinely shocked look. Slowly, though, he seems to unlock the puzzle of my worries. “I’m okay. The doctor cleared the blockage and my last test results looked great.”

“I know, but…”

He’s patient as I figure out how to get my head around my own feelings. “I think it brought up a lot of old wounds. Mom died so young and as I get closer to her age, I can’t help but think about things.”

“Think about what?”

I let out a breath. “What would happen if you weren’t around to meddle in my business all the time.” I go for lighthearted, but my throat is thick with emotion anyway.

A sympathetic smile spreads across his face. “I’m fine, Son. Truly. I want to be around too.”

“I know. That’s the thing. I know . I shouldn’t be spending so much time worrying about the future instead of living now, but I can’t help it. It’s like my brain won’t switch off from panic mode.”

“You’ve been through a lot and seen more tragedy than most your age. I hadn’t thought about what that might be like for you.”

“When Mom died it was awful, but I was too young to fully understand what the rest of my life without her was going to look like. I know exactly how fucking awful it would be to lose you.”

“I’m stubborn.” Dad reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.”

Admitting it to him eases a little of the tension I’ve been carrying. “You drive me to the brink of insanity sometimes, but I like having you around.”

“At some point we all realize we aren’t immortal, and neither are the people around us. I remember realizing that too.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. When I turned forty and pulled a muscle sneezing.”

“Something to look forward to,” I joke.

“I’m glad you’re talking to someone. You’re right, you shouldn’t spend all your time worrying about things you can’t control.”

“How do you do it?” I ask him. He lost a wife and his dealing with his health stuff too.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the wisdom that comes with age or maybe you just accept things easier as you get older.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that you can’t make a game plan for every scenario.

There are too many twists and turns to track.

You want assurances that everything is going to be okay, but it doesn’t work that way, and how heartbreaking would it be if you could see it play out anyway?

I don’t regret a day I got to spend with your mother.

Do I wish we’d had thirty years more? Of course. I bet you feel the same way.”

“I wish she could see Aidan and that he had gotten to know her.”

“Me too. She would have spoiled him rotten,” Dad says.

“Kind of like you do?”

“Someone has to.” He grins, then his mouth falls into a serious expression.

“You’re a good man. A good dad. A good son.

I’m sorry you’ve been struggling. We all do from time to time.

You’re doing the right thing by reaching out to someone who can help.

And I’m here if you ever need anything too.

I don’t pretend to have it all figured out, but I can listen. ”

“Thanks.”

“And for what it’s worth, I’ve done my share of projecting my feelings and fears in maybe less than productive ways.”

I run his cryptic words through twice, but still can’t make sense of them. “What do you mean?”

“Over the past few years, I’ve thought about it too—what it’ll be like for you when I’m gone. I want you to have someone in your life. You deserve that.”

“The constant matchmaking,” I say as I finally understand his meaning.

He nods. “Losing your mom was tough, but I felt some solace knowing I was here to help you navigate hockey and school, then becoming a dad. I’m so proud of the man you are, but the things you’ve been through made you put up a wall too.

You’ve let few people in outside of your family and teammates.

And I guess I selfishly thought if you had someone like I had your mother, then life would be easier when that time comes for me. ”

It’s a simple answer to his behavior that I never considered.

“I don’t think anything is going to make that easier, but I get it. I don’t like it, but I see your point.”

His grin pulls up on one side. “They weren’t all bad.”

I hum my reluctant agreement. No, they certainly weren’t.

“Have you talked to her?”

I don’t have to guess who he’s talking about.

“Yeah, we’ve been texting.”

“But?”

“There’s no but.”

“Of course there is. If there weren’t, you wouldn’t be moping around here without her.”

He’s not wrong.

“You’re scared that you’ll let her all the way in and then she’ll leave anyway.”

As soon as he says the words, I know they’re true, so I don’t bother denying it. I’m not sure if I’m more afraid of asking her to be mine, and her saying no or her saying yes, and then it ultimately not working out.

“You can’t predict the future, but you can fight like hell to make the here and now everything you want. And I think what you want is in Arizona.”

Technically, she’s in Colorado for the convention, but I get his point.

Aidan comes down the stairs with his dark hair sticking in every direction and smelling like body spray—a new development this year.

Dad’s face tells me he smells it too.

“Morning,” I say as he comes into the kitchen area. He goes straight to the fridge for the milk. Then pulls out a bowl and a box of Frosted Flakes. He makes a massive serving of the sugary cereal before bringing it over to the table.

The smell is almost enough to knock me out of my chair.

“New scent?” I ask him. He went shopping with his mom before school started, but I don’t think she expected him to wear the entire bottle.

He bobs his head as he spoons a huge bite into his mouth.

“Well, I better get ready. I’m taking you to practice this morning,” Dad tells Aidan.

“Okay,” he replies.

“Thanks,” I say to my dad.

“It’s a nice morning. We’ll put the windows down and enjoy a little fresh air.”

I hold back a laugh. “Good idea. I’ll open a few windows in here too.”