Page 15 of Desire or Defense

“Alright.” The corner of his mouth pulls up in a small smile. The sight of it makes my heart skip a beat.

We say our goodbyes to Ronda and Noah is about to head back up the stairs. “Hey, wait a sec!”

He stops and looks back at me. “How was practice?”

He shrugs one slim shoulder. “Alright.”

“Ronda thought you seemed maybe a little… upset. Afterward.” I take a step toward him, but don’t move too fast. Like he’s a wild animal and I might spook him away.

Noah sighs heavily. “It’s not a big deal. Just that stupid new coach is… bossy.”

I frown, remembering Mitch Anderson raising his voice to the boys. I can’t help but wonder if they did something to deserve such a strong reprimand, but Anderson is also apparently known for being a hothead with a temper. I grit my teeth.

“Do I need to talk to him?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head no. Then his mouth opens slightly, like he’s going to say more. The way my heart leaps at the small movement is ridiculous. But maybe we’re making progress here.

He clamps his mouth shut and looks down at his feet for a moment, then back up at me. “Will you… um…. be at the next practice?”

“Yeah! I’ll be there.” My voice comes out way too excited, but I’m desperate for this kid’s approval.

“Can you maybe…” he starts but then stops, looking down at the floor again.

“Can I do what?” He’s actually asking me for something, this truly is a breakthrough. My heart soars inside my chest. We’re going to get through this awkward phase where he barely speaks to me and back to where he thinks I’m cool. Like before I became his guardian, in the good old days when I sent him presents from my travels.

“Can you stay off the ice next time? That was embarrassing.”

My heart drops, and I’m pretty sure my face falls too. I try my hardest to school my features into a nonchalant smile. No big deal, he’s embarrassed by me. Whatever. Totally cool.

“Of course.” I shrug.

“Okay.” He looks at me like I’m insane and I might lose my cool any second. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Noah.”

* * *

Two days later, we arrive at the ice rink for Noah’s hockey practice. I truly never realized how all-encompassing sports are for parents. The practices, the cost of the gear, the games. It takes over your entire life. But Noah loves it, and I’ll do anything to see him happy.

I guess that’s what keeps sports parents going, watching their kids do something they love. Although, every mother in here is watching Mitch Anderson… and not their kid.

I can admit it’s mesmerizing watching such a large, muscled man move around on the ice with as much grace and finesse as a figure skater. Sure, his movements aren’t meant to be pretty, but his skill is impressive nonetheless. And, of course, that’s the only reason I can’t take my eyes off of him. Not because of that dark beard, or those large shoulders. Definitely not the huge hands I see whenever he removes those big hockey gloves.

Mitch skates by the plexiglass right in front of me and my new-found hockey mom friends. He switches effortlessly from skating forward to backwards and raises his deep voice slightly to direct one of the boys, but not in an angry way.

The two women beside me release a collective sigh and I roll my eyes at how obvious they are.

“You guys have zero chill,” I say, coining a term I’ve heard Noah use before. That is, when the kid actually speaks to me.

“Mitch lives rent free inside my head, and I’m not mad about it.” Steph waggles her red-brown eyebrows and we all laugh.

Tori’s husband walks over to join us from where he was standing. She introduced me to him earlier when the kids were putting their gear on. Tori’s husband, Bryan, has blue eyes and he seems outgoing and friendly. His hair is mostly covered with a D.C. Eagles cap, but shaggy brown hair pokes out from beneath it.

Bryan glances at his wife, shaking his head and pouting before he throws a thick, plaid scarf right at her face. “Here, babe. I think you need this to clean up your drool,” he teases.

Tori stands up, the ends of the scarf in both hands, then loops the middle around the back of her husband's neck, pulling him towards her for a quick peck. “No one compares to you, honey.”

She pulls away from him, but not before he grabs the edges of her puffy coat and yanks her into his chest for a longer kiss. “Stop!” She gasps. “Mitch might be watching and know I’m taken!”