Our Overtime: Ice League Book 1 (The Ice League Series)

“Hey bud, great work out there!” I tousled my son’s sweaty hair as he walked up to me struggling under the weight of his bag.

“Thanks, my shot’s gettin better, right?” He asked hopefully.

“100 percent better,” I assured him. “I have a surprise destination in mind though so let’s get out of here. You sure you don’t want me to take your bag?” I asked him.

He smirked up at me, “no way, Mom. And I’m almost as big as you anyways.”

“Ha!” I exclaimed. I had about three to four more years of being taller than him. “Not by a long shot, kid,” I joked. “Let’s go.”

Canyon’s eyes lit up at the sight of the fresh donuts. He got two sprinkled and some chocolate milk, claiming he was a growing boy, and I got a crawler and a vanilla iced coffee, my all-time favorites.

At the table, Canyon happily munched on his donuts and relayed everything from practice.

“So what was up with Coach Grey’s hand?” I asked him.

“Ohh, Coach Smitty said he got in a fight with a wall!” He exclaimed like it was the craziest thing he’d heard in his eight years.

“Yikes, you better not go all psycho on my walls,” I told him.

Canyon shook his head in disbelief and shoved some more donut in his mouth.

Right then, the door chimed welcoming a new customer. I looked up and was surprised to see Grey.

But he had, after all, been part of the crew that would steal away from the rink for donuts between morning practices. In the back of my mind, I had been wondering if he remembered the tradition; the fact that he did punched me with a bittersweet nostalgia.

He looked comfortable wearing a light grey sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and soft, baggy sweatpants, and Nike sliders. I stifled a laugh at the idea that he still dressed like a 17-year-old boy.

His face faltered when he saw us, which caused a wave of disappointment I wish I could’ve ignored, and he noticeably moved quick to tuck his right hand into his hoody pocket.

He nodded with a tight-lipped smile and then walked briskly up to the counter with his long and steady strides.

Canyon had been studying him the whole time as well.

“Think he has anyone to eat with?” He asked me with concerned little eyes.

I was unsure of what to say to that, so I answered truthfully, “I really don’t know, babe.” After all, he could’ve been meeting people here.

He craned his neck to see Grey.

My sweet boy. Gratitude and sadness hit me at the same time. I was thankful for my little partner in crime, but sad for Grey. He seemingly had no one.

“Thank you for being my donut buddy,” I patted my boy’s cheek.

A minute later Grey emerged carrying a tray with his left hand. He walked to the farthest corner of the diner from us and sat by himself, keeping his head down and his shoulders hunched up. The sunshine from the windows glowed on him. He had to be hot sitting there, but knowing him he was probably too embarrassed to switch seats. I internally laughed at that notion. Personality couldn’t change that much in a decade, could it? I really could still read him.

Before even realizing it, Canyon had popped off his chair and was running towards him.

I sat there sipping my coffee watching as my son was gesturing over to me.

Grey looked my way and made eye contact with me looking unsure of what to do. This was totally the puppy dog look Paige had referenced. It really did make me want to give him a hug and say that everything would be okay. But maybe that was the mom in me coming out as well.

I gave him a slight smile and nodded and that was all the assurance he needed. He stood slowly, towering over Canyon, and let him lead the way.

We had to hash out what had happened all those years ago, but today I just wanted to enjoy his company and live in our old tradition with my son.

Canyon noisily pulled a chair over for him from the table next to us.

“Good morning,” I told him.

“Uh, hullo,” he said. “Still can’t have morning practice without a donut after, eh?” He joked lightly and gave a hesitant smile. I felt a painful twinge in my heart. A mixture of sorrow and hurt knowing that I had used to kiss that same smile… but I had to stop thinking of him that way. He was Canyon’s coach and friend now, I repeated to myself for the hundredth time.

“I’m on my second!” Canyon said, earning a laugh from Grey.

“And I see you still think donuts are only dessert?” I asked him, gesturing to his bagel.

“Bor-ing,” Canyon chirped, shaking his head at him.

“It’s way too heavy to start the day with,” he countered, relaxing a bit. “At least he’s got the chocolate milk right,” he ruffled Canyon’s hair. “A hockey guy’s favorite.”

“I thought beer was?” Canyon asked.

“Canyon!” I warned.

Grey big shoulders shook as he laughed.

His 6’4 frame was so much larger than Canyon’s and mine. It seemed funny that he was the one with the extra chair.

“You taught him right,” he said softly with an amused quirk of his lip.

I shook my head and took a bite of my donut.

He started to take the knife with his left hand and stopped.

Canyon and I were both watching him then, probably making him feel awkward. He had yet to take his right hand out of his hoodie pocket.

“Something wrong?” I asked him, teasing him a bit. I knew I should’ve kept eating and not brought attention to it, but I couldn’t help it.

He looked sheepishly at me and shook his head no. He proceeded to try to turn the bagel sideways and stab the knife through it. It was not going his way.

“Fuck it,” he growled under his breath and took a bite out of the bagel unsliced and without his beloved butter, something I knew he hated to do.

“Oooh, potty word,” Canyon looked at me questioningly, wondering if I was going to get mad.

Greys cheeks turned red. A rare sight. I hadn’t seen him so unsure of himself since the first time he asked to kiss me at sixteen. It was endearing and saddening at the same time.

“Here,” I grabbed the bagel from his large, rough hand and the butter from in front of him and helped the guy out.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. “Sorry for the… um, curse.”

I rolled my eyes, “the kid knows them all, also knows not to say them aloud, right?”

Kevin had a sailor’s mouth. One of Canyon’s first words was shit.

“Right!” Canyon said. He laid a little hand on Grey’s muscular shoulder and cocked his head to the side, “So Coach, what was it like playing for the Caps? Me and mom watched a ton of your games, but the Caps were our favorites. We think you played best there. We went once!”

I inwardly groaned. Him knowing we followed his career made me feel self-conscious, but Grey’s face lit up like hearing that made his day. I never brought him up to Canyon, but once he found out for himself that Grey played at the League as a kid, he was automatically his favorite athlete. I think Canyon had put two and two together, realizing that I had skated at the League around the same time as him. But he never guessed at the nature of our relationship and that was fine with me. I think watching Grey play in the NHL gave him a little hope that the dream could actually be real, and I think subconsciously I had allowed Grey to be part of our dream because maybe he had always been part of mine.

“Yeah? You went to a game?” He asked Canyon and turned to look at me. It was my turn to blush in embarrassment.

“It was a fun trip,” I shrugged. I was too self-conscious to look at him in the eye. It would be too telling. I looked away and flinched at the second part of the memory.

We had passed through DC with Kevin on a business trip. Kevin left us at the hotel pretty much the entire weekend, so I figured I’d take Canyon to a game, knowing in the back of my mind that Grey would be on the ice. It started a hell of an argument between Kevin and I, but it was worth it in my mind to give Canyon a fun experience.

“Man, it was great. We sat way high up, but it was a really good game. You got two goals. We went skating at the statue garden place too that trip. It was my birthday. I would skate there all the time if I lived there,” Canyon shook his head seriously. My little son had an incredible memory, and usually I was very proud of it… just not at this moment.

“The statue garden, eh?” Grey looked at me while continuing conversation with Canyon. “Your mom always did love a good outdoor rink.” He winked at me.

It surprised me that he remembered that detail and it caused a ping of sorrow to hit my stomach. We had gone to so many together. That was how he taught me to drive. How could it be that this man was part of so much of my life?

“Oh, she still does, right Mom? When we go to tournaments in other cities, we always try to find an outdoor rink. It’s our thing, Coach. Oh man! Wait! You’ll see now! We goin any good places this season?” Canyon’s words sped up as he got more excited.

I shifted a little uncomfortably. I felt exposed by my little son. I did call it “our thing,” but it was something I always done with Grey before Canyon. I was afraid he’d turn cold at hearing that, but when I sneaked a look at Grey, he looked… excited.

Right then Canyon knocked over the remainder of his chocolate milk when he was gesturing with his hands.

I moved quickly to fix up the spill with the napkins we had. Canyon sucked in a breath and ran to get more napkins, calling out a “Sorry Mom!”

I followed my son with my eyes, not wanting him to stray too far. When I looked back down at the chocolate mess, I noticed some had spilled on Grey.

“Ohmygod, I’m so sorry!” I told him.

He just shook his head and laughed, “totally fine, Juju.”

His use of my old nickname caused me to stop and look up at him.

“I’m so happy you still do that,” he said in a low voice.

His voice caused something in me to stir. I told myself it was just old love. But I felt justified in a way. He would not have remembered that detail if our entire love story was a sham…. He didn’t have to explain what he meant with those words. He was talking about my need to search out outdoor rinks. After I learned to drive, it became my favorite thing to do in cities. I did it on every competition weekend I ever went away for and every tournament I ever went to watch Grey in. As soon as Canyon turned two, I had him on the ice so that he could join me every time we went on a business trip with Kevin. I wanted to share the hidden gem of fun with my son. Kevin never appreciated the beauty and fun of an outdoor rink.

As soon as Canyon was back and the milky mess was cleaned up, we fell into comfortable hockey conversation.

Canyon clearly saw him as larger than life, wanting to know all the inside information on the NHL, and he seemed to want to know just as much about Canyon.

Grey started to loosen up and eventually took his hand out of his hoodie pocket and laid it on the table.

It was no wonder he kept it tucked away, it wouldn’t have been any use. The black cast held his first three fingers in place, so that only his pinky and thumb peaked out.

My heart broke a little knowing that he had beaten himself up over our conversation.

But I also felt a fluttering of hope, which was bad. I told myself I needed to shut it down. Too much had happened between us to go back to what was. I couldn’t confuse the possibility of friendship with something more.

Grey caught me looking at his hand and it seemed he was holding his breath waiting for my reaction.

“Does it hurt?” Canyon asked, breaking the ice.

He paused for a beat, not taking his eyes off mine.

“Other things hurt worse,” he said softly, causing the fluttering sensation again.

“Like when that Detroit player shoved you into their team box?” Canyon asked while launching his little body at an unsuspecting Grey in a mock check.

Grey almost flew out of his chair, “I’m on the injured list!” He called out while trying to regain his balance.

“That’s it,” Grey said, standing and grabbing up Canyon and flinging him over his shoulder, “Two minutes for charging!”

Taking in the whole scene, I couldn’t stop laughing. Really laughing for the second time today. I decided then that it was a good thing to have these friends back in our lives.

When we finished, Grey walked us out of the diner and to my car.

Canyon quickly crawled into the backseat leaving us to awkwardly face each other. I put my sunglasses on to shield my eyes.

“Jules,” he pulled his hood off and gave me a pleading look. “Can we talk?”

I could see the boy I knew in him at that moment. It would be so easy to just hug him like I used to. To kiss his chest and look up at him, into his dark eyes guarded by the longest eyelashes I’d ever seen. I imagined it would feel so natural, like coming home. He was so large and secure. I fought my desire to do it. I still had questions that stopped me. I couldn’t forget how broken I’d been when he left me. I could never allow myself to be that vulnerable or weak again.

I had Canyon to worry about. He was my first priority now.

But that didn’t stop me from saying, “Yes.”

Relief washed over his tough face.

“Want to come over for pizza? I have a pool. Canyon can play with Smitty and Max?” His eyebrows drew together in question.

My heart beat faster. To see his house and talk with just him… it was something I’d wanted for so long.

“Pool?” I tried to make the words come out normal, but my throat felt tight with anticipation. “Could Canyon bring Troy?”

He smiled then, “Perfect.”

“Want to text me the address and time?” I asked.

He looked at me in indecision then and grimaced. He rubbed the stubble on his chin with his hand.

“Wait here,” he said. He turned and walked back into the diner.

A minute later he reappeared with a napkin that read an address in the handwriting I had long ago memorized: “welcome anytime, but 4 would be perfect.”

I looked at him strangely.

“I’m seriously never texting you any important information ever again,” he said lightly, but his eyes looked serious. He gave me a wink and turned on his heel to walk to his wrangler.