Page 154 of Pucking Daddy

Another voice cuts in, lighter this time. “Turns out it’s hard to threaten your head coach when the entire team tells you to back off.”

A few grins spread.

I shake my head slowly, processing that.

This team. My team.

“You’re going to turn me into a soft fool,” I mutter, blinking against the sting behind my eyes.

Nate’s grin widens. “Nah. We’re going to win you a cup.”

That pulls a real laugh out of me.

“Get back on the ice,” I say, shaking my head. “Let’s see if that confidence is earned.”

They break immediately, energy snapping back into place.

***

By the time I leave the rink, the noise is still in my bones.

The scrape of blades. The rhythm of drills. The sharp focus that comes with being on the ice.

For years, that’s been the thing that centered me. The thing everything else had to fit around.

Now—

I pull my jacket on, stepping out into the cool air, and my phone buzzes in my pocket. Not with pressure. Not with something I need to fix.

Just a message.

Zara:

We’re home. Lily insists you bring snacks.

A faint smile pulls at my mouth.

Yeah. Not everything revolves around hockey anymore.

By the time I step into the apartment, I hear them before I see them.

Lily’s laugh. Zara’s voice. The easy overlap of both.

“Dad!” Lily calls, already halfway down the hall.

I barely have time to drop my bag before she launches herself at me.

I catch her automatically, lifting her up with a grunt. “Hey, bug.”

“Did you win practice?” she asks seriously.

I huff out a laugh. “We’re working on it.”

I glance up.

Zara’s leaning against the kitchen counter, watching us with that soft look that’s been undoing me more and more lately.

Lily wiggles in my arms. “Did you bring snacks?”