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She smiled. “Ready to put your pivoting practice to the test? We’re going to throw ice at you and you’re going to pivot out of the way or get nailed. Get a drink, stretch, and then we’re going to pelt you with ice. Unless, of course, you’re faster now than you were when you started.”
I shook my head at her. Of course, I was faster now. I’d get through this no problem.
When I returned, Molly had a wicked grin on her face. “Oh, and did I mention you’re going to be protecting your puck from me at the same time?”
Fucking hell.
She tossed a puck toward my feet, then tore toward me. I had no choice but to react and snatch the puck with my stick. Then I felt the first ice ball. “Fuck!”
But Molly didn’t let up. In fact, she was snarling and racing after me like she’d never had surgery, never faced cancer. Since her surgery, she had been focused on skating since she could no longer do the goalie work and it showed. She was a machine and she was bearing down on me just as hard as some of the guys in the league.
She stole the puck and I used the new techniques to steal it back. “Holy shit, Molls! Have you been practicing with Pan or something?”
She cackled at me and used my distraction to grab the puck back. Using a pivot, I raced after her, getting power from the pivot to go backward and use crossovers to get myself positioned in front of her, snatching the puck again.
Then I felt another one, on my back this time. “Goddamn it!” Phoebe got me with another ice ball. Those fuckers hurt!
Using the c-cuts, I gained more power and raced away, but Molly was already on me, pushing me, forcing me to employ the tactics she just taught me. In the second I took to appreciate the fact that this kid was really an amazing coach, I got nailed again.
“Fuck, Phoebe!”
Molly giggled. “Interesting choice of words.”
I ground to a stop and pulled Molly to the boards with me on the opposite side away from Phoebe. “What’re you talking about?”
She scowled at me. “I don’t need to spell it out for you, now do I?”
I gave her a warning look. “Molls.”
Her eyes widened. “What? It’s written all over your face. Hers too.”
I wiped sweat from my forehead with the back of my glove. “She doesn’t want me or that.”
Molly shook her head at me. “You both need to take your heads outta your asses. It’s just downright painful watching you two work through this.”
I huffed. “Yeah, well, it’s been going on for years. Imagine how I feel.”
Molly placed her gloved hand on my arm. “I don’t have to. I see it in your eyes. I see something in hers too. But you aren’t on the same page yet. You both have some work to do there.”
Snatching the puck again, Molly took off toward Phoebe.
With backward crossovers propelling me forward, I reached her quickly, ducked an ice ball, and snatched the puck back from Molly. Ducking two more ice balls, I kept the puck from Molly until she gave a satisfied grin.
Huffing, she ground to a stop and leaned on her stick. “Think that’s all I’ve got. Probably all of the ice balls too.”
Phoebe nodded.
Molly grinned. “Nice job this morning, big fella.”
My chest heaved with the exertion. “Pretty impressive yourself.”
She cackled. “Yeah, I’ve still got it. Bet I could still beat you from one side of the ice to the other, but you’re picking up some speed the better you execute those pivots. Keep at it, Chief.”
“No!” I yelled, pointing at her, then at Phoebe. “No one but Phoebe gets to call me that!”
She glided to the boards with a smug grin. “Yeah, I know.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, then saw Phoebe working her way toward us. She was trying to avoid the destroyed ice ball pieces on her way to me. Pushing off the boards, I went over to her, chucked the container and my gloves toward the player’s box, and scooped Phoebe up, depositing her on the opposite side of the rink.
