Page 92 of Legacy

My lips twitched as I looked down at Mrs. Carter, speaking through her fingers, as the puck moved around the ice so quickly you could barely keep up with it.

“Come on, Mom, you should be used to the boy aquarium by now. I mean, Atlas has been doing hockey since what, birth?” Felicity teased. She looked past me and winked.

“Boy aquarium?” I growled.

“What?” Felicity asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “It’s true. Look at them all out there. Skating around in peak performance, and the boards and glass just make it look like an aquarium. They can even do tricks. Watch, that one can skate backward,” she teased.

“Does Atlas know you call it a boy aquarium?” I asked, raising a brow.

Felicity beamed, looking happier than she had in days. I knew there was still grief behind those eyes, and there would be for a long while. Grief didn’t go away just because you wanted it to. It ebbed and flowed like waves on the beach but didn’t always leave behind ragged tears in the sand. Sometimes, it just reminded you of what you had.

Just like I would always miss Georgia, I would always miss my mother, but I could breathe now. So that was something.

“Yes, I am used to how violent hockey is, and I hate the fact that those pucks are coming at my baby’s face.” She stood up then, hands outstretched. “Pass! Pass! Come on. Get him!”

I stood up with her and looked down at Felicity, both of us trying not to laugh.

No matter what Gwen Carter said about violence, she would kick anyone’s ass who dared to hurt her baby. And by her baby, I meant her six-foot-something, two-hundred-plus-something of muscle, thirty-something-year-old son.

However, Atlas had been at this NHL goalie thing for a while now. I knew he was coming up on his last years because your knees and hips could only last for so long, but Atlas was still enjoying the game.

The Denver Snowcaps came forward, way too close for comfort, but missed the goal right at the end of the second period.

I let out a sigh of relief as Atlas stood up, rolling his shoulders back. He slid up his helmet and guard and just glared at the Colorado forward in front of him.

Words were exchanged, and when the refs pushed them apart, Mr. Carter just mumbled under his breath.

“I realize that Atlas likes a goalie fight, but I really hope one of his enforcers takes care of that asshole.”

I grinned and nodded my chin over at Rune, who sat on the other side of Felicity. “Well, at least it’s not like we don’t like violence on our side,” I said dryly.

“Hey, hockey has fights to get rid of the tension and any issues you have. Football is the one where you just run into each other over and over again, land in piles, and then spank each other’s asses.”

I glared at my best friend. “Really? After all of these years, you still hate football?”

“I don’t hate football. I like hockey better. Sue me.”

“Hey, are you Callum Ashford? The Callum Ashford?” a twenty-something-year-old man said behind me. I turned and nodded. The glare on my face probably should have scared the guy, but he just grinned.

“I knew that was you. Sorry for interrupting, but I just got to say, you were fantastic. And I know if you would’ve been able to stay for the rest of the season that you guys would’ve gone all the way to the Super Bowl. Hey, can I have your autograph?”

Felicity reached out and patted my thigh, and I realized that Bodhi hadn’t missed the movement. The back of my neck heating, I nodded. “Sure. Why not? Though I’m an old man now, and it’s been a while. Don’t know if this will get you anything.”

“I don’t care if it would get me anything. This is going in my collection, man. You were legit. Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself, though. Hey, you with Carter’s sister? Pretty cool that all you sports guys seem to be friends.” The guy looked over at Felicity. “Your brother is a kick-ass goalie. And yes, I say that as a fan of the other team.” He winked as I quickly signed whatever flyer he gave me and then narrowed my gaze. “Well, I’m sure we’ll kick your ass.”

“That’s what I like to hear. But we’re still going to win.”

The guy started talking with his buddies then, and I turned back to the ice, shoulders stiff. “Anyone want a beer? We don’t have that much time before the next period starts.”

“Dad already went to get some. You were too busy with your fawning fans.” Rune continued to glare at me, and I let out a breath. “Oh. Cool. Do you think he can handle it all?”

“Mom went with him,” Felicity said, tension in her voice.

“Ah. Well, football is still better.”

“Not so much my friend. Watch those hands, friend of mine,” Rune growled, and I blinked, realizing that my arm was still behind Felicity’s chair.

I shrugged and sank back into the seat. If we were in public, maybe my best friend wouldn’t kick my ass.