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Deluca’s smile disappeared. “I didn’t say you were.” He pointed toward Halsey. “I’m saying that kid hears you. Might be worth remembering.”
Deluca blew the next drill live before Ford had to answer.
Ford stayed through the rest of practice. He caught himself moving with the play twice, shoulders shifting when Halsey followed the puck behind the net. The second time, the joint pulled hard enough to stop him, and he sat back. The pain took several breaths to ease. By then Cole was waiting for the next drill at the far blue line, watching Ford instead of Deluca.
When the whistle ended practice, the skaters went down the tunnel in twos and threes. Halsey stayed in the crease while Olie fed him shots from the last bucket and swore every time one found a hole.
Ford waited until the last puck hit the glass.
“You’re dropping the blocker when you look around the screen,” he said.
Halsey pushed his mask up again. Sweat ran off his chin. “I know.”
“Then quit.”
Ford got up from the bench. “Come look at the tape.”
Halsey went still. The attitude dropped out of his face.
“Now?”
“Unless you’ve got somewhere better to be.”
The kid looked toward the tunnel, where the last of the guys had disappeared. “No.”
“Shower. Ten minutes.”
Halsey pulled his mask back down and headed for the gate.
At the top of the tunnel, Deluca stopped Cole with a hand on his shoulder.
“My office when you’re changed, Englund.”
Cole nodded. His eyes found Ford before he followed Deluca down the hall. Ford turned toward the video room.
The kid showed up with wet hair and his practice shirt clinging to his back. Ford had the third rush waiting on the screen.
“Watch your right skate.”
Halsey leaned toward the monitor. Ford ran the clip once, backed it up, and ran it again. On the third pass, Halsey swore under his breath.
“There,” Ford said. “You see it now?”
“Yeah.”
“Fix it tomorrow.”
The door opened behind them. Cole stood in the hall wearing his suit pants and an unbuttoned dress shirt. His tie hung loose around his neck.
Ford looked at Halsey. “Be ready for Iron Bay.”
Halsey nodded, gathered his things, and slipped past Cole. Cole waited until his footsteps faded before he came inside and shut the door.
“Chicago called me up,” he said.
Ford’s bad leg went rigid beneath the table. He forced it to relax before he tried to stand and gave himself away.
He had known this could happen. He’d known it when Cole moved into his house, when Charlotte started waiting for him at breakfast, when Ford stopped guarding every inch of his life against wanting him there tomorrow. Now Cole was leaving.
