Page 42 of Goalie interference

This was the first year our charity was doing something with kids.

“...and you know–the puck– it can go so fast,” the kid babbled on, holding on to my shoulder while I knelt in front of him, nodding along.

“Very fast,” I confirmed, nodding. “I got hit with one once without the padding and phewww,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

As if the air shifted, my eyes moved on their own, locking on Thayer when he walked in. I couldn’t bite back that smile, just doing my best to keep it under control the best I could, but he was pretty in a suit.

Just sort of wished he hadn’t shaved, but whatever.

“Hey, Mattie, do you want to meet someone?” I asked, waiting for his enthusiastic nod. I looked past him, whistling to get Thayer’s attention and waving him over. “This guy–he’s a real-life NHL goalie.”

“Really?” he asked, jaw dropped.

Thayer came waltzing over, kneeling next to me with a warm smile on his face. “And who are you?” Thay asked, resting a gentle hand on my back, as if it were for stability.

“This is Mattie,” I hummed, taking my chance to look over at him without all the eyes on us. “Mattie wants to be a goalie, and I wanted him to meet my friend who's a big-bad NHL goalie, since I’m not one–”

“Yet,” Thayer interrupted playfully, pinching my back slightly. “Hi, Mattie. I’m Thomas.”

Maybe I couldn’t hold Thayer’s hand or kiss him in public yet, but that was okay for now. I was okay with this because it was temporary–two years at most.

After I graduated, I was registering for the NHL draft. I’d go where they sent me and just pray that it wasn’t too far because once he wasn’t my coach, I never planned to be quiet about us again.

Not to my friend.

My parents.

Strangers would know how proud I was to be dating the biggest and baddest goalie that ever traipsed through the NHL.

“Are you his coach?” Mattie asked Thayer, making me snicker.

Thayer’s hand on my back got stiff– a controlling hold that was telling me to cut it out. I got it together quickly, looking over at Thayer to answer, but he was already looking at me with that same warm smile I loved waking up to every day.

“Best coach I’ve ever had.”

Chapter 21

Ash

Today started off bad.

Thayer had a meeting on campus well before I had to be up, so even though I got to say goodbye to him, I woke up alone a couple of hours later. I had breakfast alone at home and watched TV alone, finished homework alone–Thayer didn’t come back home until it was time for me to leave for practice.

And he only came home to get changed for practice, too.

He apologized–he thought it wouldn't be that long, and though I appreciated it, it didn’t fix the irritation in my spine.

Practice went bad next–I was fine, but the rest of my team was off-kilter.

We all went out partying last night, but I went home at eleven to sober up and get railed by my boyfriend. They all stayed out, and now they were hungover and unhelpful on the ice.

And then one of them threw up on my foot, and I was done.

Practice ended, and I went home to eat and sleep, expecting Thayer to come home at some point, but he didn’t. It was game day, and to satisfy my routine need, I had to jerk myself off for the first time in weeks…

It kind of sucked, too–not half as good as if Thayer had done it for me.

My routine was off, my irritation level was high, and I had a headache.