FALLING FOR THE ICE KING

Chapter 19

Damien's POV

Me: Is 11:30 a good time to meet up tomorrow?

Her reply comes pretty much straight away.

Vivi: Yes. Where are we going?

Me: It’s a surprise. But a good one, I promise. I ran it by Theo.

Vivi: Lol. Sia says it’s okay for me to meet you then.

Me: Great. See you then.

I send up a prayer, hoping I get to see those tiny shorts again. I swear I got hard the minute I saw her toned little ass and shapely legs in them. I’ll need to keep myself in check tomorrow.

This is a marathon, not a sprint. Although what I’m running toward, I’m not sure.

All I know is that in the brief moments in Vivi’s company, I’ve wanted her in more ways than just in my bed. I rub my hands down my face, not quite knowing what’s gotten me all riled up about her, but I don’t get to finish that thought because Jack starts shouting from the top of the stairs.

“Guessssssssss whaaaaaaaaat!”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to look up at him.

“What, kiddo?”

“Mom just came in to tell me that my school has washed away!”

“Flooded, buddy, not washed away,” Charlotte says, now standing beside him.

“Damien, do you think he can come with you to the rink tomorrow? One of the main water pipes burst. They’ve just sent out an announcement.”

She’s pacing now.

“Mom and Dad set off for Knox’s game hours ago. I’ve already had my day off this week.”

Jack clasps his hands together and starts to beg.

“Please, Uncle Damien. Please can I come with you?”

My mind races. I’ve got practice and a workout. I’ve got an afternoon planned with Vivi, which I haven’t told anyone else about.

“Erm…” I stutter, rubbing the back of my neck.

His face falls. His lips turn down and his big, blue eyes go full-on puppy dog. Oh f*****g hell.

“Yes. Of course you can spend the day with me, but you better get back into bed this minute. We need to be out of here by eight on the dot.”

He pumps his little fist in the air as he runs back to bed.

“Thank you,” Charlotte says as she lifts her hand to her forehead. “What would I do without you?”

As she walks down the hallway to check that Jack did in fact go back to bed, I contemplate texting Vivi again to cancel, but think better of it. I’m sure she won’t mind if Jack tags along. I might just have to make a couple of changes.

•••

I open my bedroom door at 7:55 a.m. and see Jack already standing on the other side.

“I’m ready. Here’s your shake.”

He passes me my mug, c*****g his head to his other hand.

“Mine’s a smoothie. I’ve got my pads, helmet, skates, and stick. I’ve got a book,” he rolls his eyes, “Nintendo Switch, and Mom made us some snacks.”

I look him up and down. He’s decked out in layers and layers of Wolves gear. I shake my head, smiling, and give him a high five.

“Okay then, let’s do this.”

We leave the house and I watch him drag his giant bag with him and then strap himself into his seat. I give it a tug to make sure it’s fastened, and then I walk around to the driver’s side and get in, putting the car into drive and placing my sunglasses over my eyes. I check the rear-view mirror to make sure no one’s walking across my driveway and do a double take of Jack. He’s produced a pair of child-size aviators from somewhere and he looks like a mini-me.

“Where did you get the shades from, dude?”

“Gunner got them for me. He said someone as cool as me should be rockin’ a pair. I think he’s right.”

I laugh. Gunner’s a good guy. He’s got s**t to do after practice so he’s driving himself today, and Callan, I have no idea where he is, but his car’s not on the drive.

“Yeah, man, you’re super cool.”

“Can you put my song on please?”

“Of course. Hold on a sec.”

I push at the buttons on the steering wheel.

“You have to sing, Damien.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

After three renditions of ‘High Hopes’—his theme song—I can’t take any more and insist it’s my turn to choose. We cruise along for the rest of the drive to the Foo Fighters’ ‘My Hero’ with Jack air drumming his heart out.

This kid.

•••

During practice, a couple of the girls from the media team watched Jack for me. They’re rink-side taking videos and photos anyway, so they don’t mind. Ten minutes before the end of practice, Coach blows his whistle and shouts for Jack to get onto the ice to warm down. He’s already padded up and got his skates on because I told him we would do a few laps before going into the weight room.

The smile he wears splits his face in half as my teammates high-five and fist-bump him. The coach shouts for him to put his helmet on, and he does. He is fitted with a cage in front because of his age, and he follows the trainer’s instructions to the letter. My dad says he loves hockey more than the rest of us did at his age, and I think he’s right.

I could take it or leave it at seven. I liked playing a little of everything. It wasn’t until I was about ten when my coach took my dad aside and told him I should focus solely on hockey. From that day forward, it became my life.