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She made me question shit.
She made me think about what could have been.
The “what-if.”
Not just her… hockey. My life.
That night in a dusty closet changed things for me.
Do I want to continue to live an empty life ofwhat-ifs?
“You know what? You remember before I met Mads, how fucking lost I was? All that shit with my brother. I was two seconds from being benched permanently,” Briggs says, holding my gaze.
I nod. Of course I remember it.
It was pure agony watching Briggs go through that shit. He walked in on his fiancée in bed with his brother, and now they’re married with a child together. When it happened, he fell into a hole so deep even we couldn’t pull him out.
“I think the only thing that truly made a difference, the only thing that saved me, was when I was coaching the kids at Face-Off. I needed to take a step back, and it helped to give back and do something for someone else. I was lost, and getting out of my own head, spending time with them… it was better than any shrink could’ve ever been for me. You could try to reach out, see if they need anyone.”
Me? Coaching kids?
“Yeah, I mean, you’re good with our kids. You’re their favorite uncle—don’t tell Graham, or I’ll never hear the end of it. But it might be a good place to start while you’re figuring things out. And Hudson… It’s not a bad thing to be thinking about the future and what it means for you. Even if it seems hazy right now, I have no doubt that you’ll figure it out. Just like we did,” Asher says, clapping me on the back. “You’d be great with those kids. You’ve got more patience than any of us combined.”
Reed nods in agreement. “I think you’d be great at it, brother. Asher’s right. You’ve got the patience of a saint. Way more than I do, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, me too,” Chaney adds.
“That’s because you’re emotionally still a toddler, Chaney,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t want to bring my shit into coaching, and who knows if I’d even be good at that shit? I don’t know if I want to be in charge of a group of kids, and I couldn’t be around as much during the season. It all seems like a fuck ton of responsibility.”
“It is,” Briggs says, pausing to check on Dexter, who has stirred slightly in his arms. “But seeing the smile on their faces when they finally nail a shot or the first goal they score after practicing all week… it does something to you. Trust me, okay? Just check it out, see what you think before you commit. Listen, you’re our brother for life, hockey or not, and you know it. We’re not going anywhere, and we’ll be here to help you figure out your shit.”
“Time for presents!” Holland calls across the yard, and the kids go running. I guess that’s our cue.
For the rest of the party, I’m lost in thought about what the guys said, and even though I shouldn’t, I think of Juliet.
And thewhat-ifs.
* * *
I spendthe rest of the weekend watching baseball on the couch and only leave the house to have Sunday dinner with my family. When I brought up volunteering to coach at dinner, my parents and my sister insisted that I do it.
Although they don’t know about my Juliet or everything really going on in my head, they said that it was a great idea and ultimately why I had my agent reach out to Face-Off first thing Monday morning. Even though we’ve done a few events with the organization as a team before, I hadn’t ever worked with them one-on-one. I didn’t know what to expect when my agent called back and let me know that he had set up a meeting for the following morning.
Briggs said that those kids saved his life in a way that I couldn’t imagine, and thinking back to the shit that he went through, I know how rough he had it. Thank fuck he found Maddison and ended up where he should be, but my best friend fought his way back from hell. And he says he owes it all to these kids and this organization for pulling him out of the darkest place of his life. For helping him heal and be a better man.
That’s enough for me, and who knows? Maybe coaching these kids will change me too. I want that feeling. The one where it feels like I have a fucking purpose and a path because right now, I feel like I’m wandering aimlessly in circles with no end in sight.
“Hudson Rome?” I glance up to see a short woman with a black T-shirt that reads Face-Off on it striding toward me, a warm smile plastered on her face. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a clip, and she’s got a huge stack of folders and a clipboard in her arms, but it doesn’t seem to be slowing her down.
Nodding, I extend my hand toward her. “Hi, yes, I’m Hudson.”
We quickly shake hands, and she smiles up at me, “I’m Laura Atkins, and I’m so glad you’re here. When your agent reached out to me, I was ecstatic because we could totally use the help. We’re organizing a few big events for the year, and it’s a bit overwhelming. In the best way, of course.”
The way she says it isn’t negative at all, more gracious that she’s able to organize it in the first place.
I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. For the first time in a long time, I find myself nervous but looking forward to what’s to come. Excitement strums through my chest.
“I’m happy to be here. Briggs is like my brother, and he speaks so highly of your organization that it was a no-brainer to reach out and see if you guys wanted any help.”
