I’m heading home, nearly at the doors, when Willow comes busting into the arena. She looks around in a panic, her eyes wide and fearful. As soon as she sees me, she pivots on a pair of old, frayed sneakers and runs in my direction.
She’s a blur of tight black curls when she crashes into me and wraps her arms around my middle in a surprising hug. My muscles freeze before thawing, allowing me to hug her back.
“Willow?”
Tears dampen my shirt when she presses her face into my shoulder. My brows furrow with concern.
A storm of protectiveness crashes into me, making me tighten my grip on her. Whatever happened to her, I know I’ll be the one to deal with it. She’s my student, and I’ve grown to care for her more than I thought I would. Especially in only a couple of weeks of knowing her.
Willow has that way with people, I guess. She’s special. I knew that the moment we met.
“What happened?” My voice is gentle, cautious. She shakes her head and swallows loud enough I can hear it. “I can’t fix what I don’t know, Willow.”
“I don’t want to give up hockey. It’s all I have,” she whispers.
I blink, confused. “Why would you have to give it up? You don’t. We love you here.”
Her arms drop, and she stumbles back, swiping angrily at her swollen eyes. “It doesn’t even matter. I don’t know why I came here.”
“Hold on,” I rush out when she turns to look at the door, like she’s debating whether or not to take off. “You came here to talk, right? So, let’s talk. Don’t run off.”
“I don’t know why I came here.”
I nod. “Okay, then let’s figure it out. But not in the open like this. Come on.” Grabbing her hand, I lead us through the halls in search of the staff room.
When we reach the glass door, I unlock it and lead us inside. Willow looks around the unfamiliar space with slight approval.
It’s a nicely decorated room with a leather sofa, a few armchairs, and a small kitchen decked out with a full-size fridge and one of those fancy toaster ovens. There’s a pricy coffee machine on the counter that I’ve been too scared to use in fear of busting it and a spinning carousel of mugs with cheesy sayings.
Willow heads right for the mugs before bursting into a fit of laughter. I’m both happy to see her smile and concerned as to what could have made her switch up so quickly.
When I move to stand beside her, I look at the cup in her hands and growl, “Adam.”
It’s a matte-black mug with a pair of devil horns above the words If Lost, Return To Scary Spice.
“He loves to piss you off, huh?” she asks, setting the cup back on its hook.
“If riling me up was an Olympic sport, Adam would be the one with all the gold medals, not me.”
I sit on the couch and pat the spot beside me. Willow releases a long breath but joins me.
“We’re not going to talk about Adam and his hobbies right now, though. You’re going to tell me what’s going on with you and why you think you have to quit hockey.”
Willow grabs her knees and squeezes. “My mom can’t afford to pay for my lessons. She never could, but I was tutoring a few rich kids before school, during my lunch breaks, and after school whenever I could to pay half of the fees, but now that school’s out, that’s not an option.
“Her job has cut her hours again, and between me and my three other siblings, even if I could find another job, she wouldn’t be able to pay the other half anymore. She isn’t sure if we’ll be able to afford for me to even stay on my hockey team for next season.”
My heart constricts. Shit.
“That’s . . .” I begin.
“Horrible?” she finishes. “Yeah. I can’t not play hockey, Scar. And I don’t know, I guess I came here because out of everyone I know, it’s you who would be able to understand.”
“Because I’ve lost it all.” God, those words hurt. It’s like pouring vodka in an open wound.
I collapse into the couch and rub at my face. How am I supposed to give advice to someone when I can’t even deal with my own problems? I’m probably the worst person in the world to come to with this, but I think I might be the only option for Willow. That means I can’t sit here and wallow in the castle of pity I’ve built for myself over the better part of a year. It might be too late for me to make a comeback, but it sure as hell isn’t for her.
“You’re not done, Willow. Far from it. If you think there’s any way Adam would let you walk out of here before you’re ready, then you truly have no idea the kind of guy he is or how good you are.”
When she stares at her feet in silence, I continue.
“Did you know that he sought me out and hired me just to train you?”
Her head whips in my direction. “No.”
“As soon as he knew I was in town, he brought me in and even offered to help me with my shoulder if it meant that I would work for him. He did that because he wanted the best for you, and even if I’m no longer out there winning gold medals, that’s exactly what I am.”
My eyes go wide as I realize what I’ve said—or accepted, really. Willow’s lips spread in a small smile.
I clear my throat. “Anyway, my point is that there’s no way you’re giving up hockey. We will figure something out.” It’s a promise in its purest form.
A mix between doubt and hope spreads across her face before she nods once. “Is he still here? We should go talk to him now before I leave and lose my edge.”
“Your edge?” I laugh, earning myself a glare. “Right. We wouldn’t want you to lose your edge. He was still in his office a few minutes ago.” We get up off the couch and leave the room.
“Did you really take the job just to work with me?” Willow asks when we step into the hallway. The main lights are off now that the rink is closed, leaving only the dull automatic ones to light the path.
“Adam told me how good you were, and I said yes. I haven’t regretted that decision once.”
At least I haven’t when working with her. Adam, on the other hand? It might have crossed my mind a couple of times. More so lately than before, though I think that stems from a completely different problem.
“Okay,” she murmurs.
“So, you have three siblings? Boys or girls?” I ask and cringe at my attempt at small talk.
I’m not one to ask about someone’s personal life. Most of the time, I don’t see the purpose of getting to know someone that isn’t going to be a constant in my life for a long period of time. It seems unnecessary to build bonds with temporary people.
Yet with Willow, I want to get to know more about her. And I think that’s because we’ve already created a bond that I don’t want to break, regardless of if its permanence. We’re so similar it’s almost uncanny. I see myself in her and want to give her the best chance of success. She deserves it.
“Two older brothers and a younger sister. I’m the third child. Do you have any siblings?”
“No. I’m the only one. I think it was a blessing that way, though. I was hard enough on my mom without adding another kid in the mix.”
“Yeah, my second oldest brother is the same way. My mom always said that if she knew how much of a shit he was going to be, maybe she wouldn’t have kept popping out babies.”
That makes me laugh. “He’s a real handful, then.”
“Just yesterday, I had to pick him up from the skate park after he got into a fight and hit some kid in the back of the head with his board.”
“Okay, yeah, I can see it. So, what, you’re the designated bail buddy?”
She snorts. “Yeah, you could say that. Luckily, hockey usually keeps me pretty busy, so I get out of it a lot of the time.”
“Well, if you ever need a bail buddy or anything, I . . . uh, I could be that for you.”
Willow looks at me and grins. “That would be awesome.”
I smile back. “Okay.”
As soon as Adam’s office door comes into view, Willow halts, coming to a sudden stop. I look at her curiously.
“What’s wrong?”
She chews nervously on her lip. “Do you think you could go in first? Warm him up a little?” My eyes go wide, and then hers follow. She rambles her next words in a hushed voice. “Okay, that’s so not what I meant. I’m so nervous I have no control over my words. Please forget I said that. I mean, unless that’s something you want to do? If so, please feel free. I’ll just wait out here and put headphones in or something.”
“Willow, stop talking. Please.” My cheeks feel as warm as hers look. “I can go in and talk to him first.”
Yeah, simple enough. It’s not like what I’m thinking about now is all the ways I could “warm him up.”
She sighs in relief. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Just stay close or something. I’ll come get you when I’m done talking to him.”
After she gives me another nod of confirmation, I leave her where she’s standing and continue the walk to Adam’s office. As soon as I get close, I hear his voice through the crack in his door. An involuntary shudder moves through me before a woman’s voice joins his.
“Okay. I’ll invite her. But I’m not promising anything. She could already have plans,” he says. I lean forward a bit.
Who is he talking to? And what are they talking about?
I swallow the questions in my throat and knock on the door a bit harder than necessary. He quickly says goodbye to the woman he was speaking to and hangs up but not before I catch him throw out the L word.
Bile churns in my stomach, and I lose my balance, stumbling right into the door and pushing it open. Adam’s eyes are alert when they meet mine.
“Scarlett,” he says. Are those nerves in his voice? If so, what the hell kind of conversation was he having to be nervous about?
“Hi. Is now an okay time to talk? I can come back. You sounded busy.”
“I’m never too busy for you. Come in.” He gestures for me to enter, and I do, opting to leave the door open.
I cross the room and sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. Adam steps around his desk and sits on it, facing me. He folds his arms and grins.
“I’m surprised to see you’re still here. You usually leave right at four.”
“Yeah, something came up. Or someone, I guess.”
His eyes flash with interest. “Is everything okay?”
“It’s Willow,” I sigh. “She found me when I was leaving. God. She was crying and hugging me, and I had no idea what to do or say.”
A warm hand brushes my knee, and I find Adam watching me intently with a look I can’t decipher. It makes my heart beat erratically.
“Slow down,” he urges softly. “Why was she crying? Tell me how to fix it.”
“She can’t afford this place anymore. Her family probably won’t be able to afford hockey at all next season. You need to help her. She can’t lose this. Please don’t let her go,” I plead. My chest constricts, and my lungs clutch onto the air inside of them like it’s the last taste of it they’ll ever have.
“What changed? Is it something I need to be concerned about?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. She didn’t seem worried about anything but hockey. Her mom’s job cut hours, and from what she told me, they’re barely holding on as it is.”
He blows out a long breath and, without breaking eye contact, says, “Okay. I’ll help her.”
“What?” I gasp. The corners of my mouth tug, and before I realize what’s happening, I’m grinning at him. “Are you sure? Do you even know how you’ll do it? You don’t have to decide today.”
Adam’s smile sears my insides. “It seems as though I would do anything you ask me to, Scarlett. Especially when that smile is my thank you.”
