Page 139 of The Goalie in Room 1

So I told him that. “I found other shit I want.”

Aiden stayed quiet, waiting.

Fucker knew me too well.

“I rode sixty-three miles last weekend.”

His head turned. “On a bike?”

“No, Mercy. On a fucking unicycle.”

“Fuck you.” His gaze dropped to my leg, then returned to my face. “Sixty-three?”

I nodded, unable to stop the grin pulling at my mouth. My ass had hated me by mile fifty, my quads had been screaming by sixty, and I’d already been looking at longer routes before I loaded my bike into my truck to make the trip home.

“I’m doing a century,” I announced.

“A hundred miles? Are you insane?”

“Yes, and probably. The jury’s still out on the last one.”

“Does Doc know?”

My grin must have answered for me because Aiden barked out a laugh.

“He knows I ride.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I just hope I’m around when you tell him.”

I flipped him off and looked back at the ice.

Thad was still taking shots at the empty net. He missed another one wide, and I shook my head.

Fucking terrible.

And mine.

The thought settled warmly in my chest as I took another drink. I had a home with that man. A job I fucking loved. Athletes who came looking for me because somehow I’d become the guy who could help when their bodies betrayed them. I climbed onto a bike because I wanted to see how far and fast I could make the bastard go. And how much I could push myself.

The newest quest I set for myself had me biting my nails and wading through my email multiple times a day.

“I applied to school.”

Aiden went still beside me. “You did?”

I nodded.

“For PT?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I love what I’m doing, so maybe psychology or a performance consultant. I just don’t know what direction I wanna go yet.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Fuck, Cash.”

“Don’t say whatever you’re getting ready to say. I know I was a shitty student.”