“Sure,” Micah said, and after a quick glance around, leaned up and kissed him. “It makes sense, like I said, I just wasn’t thinking about how that probably gets in your head. I’ve had bad days at work, too, they’re just not on television and in front of thousands of people.”
Daniel snorted. “Thousands only because it was on television. Anyway, I have to get to practice but, later, maybe I could make it up to you. Unless you have plans?”
“That’d be great.” Micah smiled. “And you know, if it happens again, then I’ll know. It’s just new to me, that’s all. You definitely made up for it, so don’t feel like you’re in trouble.”
“That a hint you don’t want me to come over?” Daniel asked, moving a little closer. He smelled good, and looked amazing, and he’d shown up at brunch and brought Micah flowers...why was Micah being so weird?
“Of course I do. But less to make it up to me, and more to, ah, give me something to think about before you leave on that road trip.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Daniel said, and tugged him in for a kiss.
Micah looked at the flowers on the seat next to him on the way home. He was happy that Daniel showed up, glad they’d navigated through this little blip, but the main thing, the real cause of his unhappiness...was the thing Micah couldn’t do anything about. Losing games, being so miserable doing the thing he loved...how long was this going to be something Daniel could live with? How long before he decided to take his talent and his love of hockey elsewhere?
And what would happen to him and Micah, if he did?
Chapter Seventeen
Between the holidays and their respective schedules, it had edged into January before Daniel could join Demetrius at the Rumbles’ practice facility. They met in the parking lot, and Daniel officially introduced Demetrius to his kids. They’d seen each other in passing throughout the season, of course, but usually when Demetrius and Daniel hung out, it was to grab a quick lunch together while Gretchen and Nate were in school. There hadn’t been a time when Daniel felt comfortable enough to bring his kids into the Thunder’s locker room, the way he had with the Venom, so they weren’t as familiar with this team.
The arena itself was small and served as a community ice rink when the teams weren’t using it for practice or games, Demetrius had told him. It only had bleachers for seating along one side. Daniel settled his kids with their snacks and followed Demetrius down to the ice, where it seemed practice was just about to begin.
The children on the ice, all five-and six-year-olds, the youngest classification, as far as Daniel knew, looked tiny and uncoordinated. There were a couple of adults out there with them, one busy showing a few players hand positioning on their sticks. The other, who’d been running a few other players through practice shots, spotted Demetrius and waved.
Demetrius returned the gesture before settling down on the bench to exchange his trainers for skates.
Daniel did the same and gamely joined Demetrius on the ice when he was done, skating after him toward the dark-haired man who’d waved at them.
“Oh my God,” the guy said, thrusting a hand at Daniel. “It’s really you. Daniel Bellamy.” He blushed and shook his head. “I mean, of course it’s you, it’s not like I thought D was lying when he said you’d be joining us, but—” He cut himself off there, the redness on his face increasing. “Sorry, sorry. Peter Kaminski, nice to meet you.”
Daniel smiled at him. “You too, Peter. No need to apologize.”
“Right. So.” Peter gestured to the woman who was helping the kids with their sticks. “That’s Miranda, she’s my assistant coach.” Miranda gave them a friendly nod but didn’t stop what she was doing to come over. “And, uh...we have some parents who help out from time to time.” He indicated the small crowd sitting in the bleachers, mostly chatting amongst themselves. “But we can certainly use more people who know the game. I mean, it’s simplified at this level, non-checking, and we only play half rink, but still, we’re trying to prepare the kids for the higher classifications, you know, so we try to get them to take it seriously and keep our practices structured and engaging.”
Daniel dipped his head. “Makes sense. What are we working on tonight, then? What can we help with?”
“Well.” Peter glanced over at the kids. “If you’d like to run them through some simple skating drills, that would be great. Pushing, starting, stopping. We have a guide, if that’d be useful.”
“That’d be great.”
“I’ll grab it for you.” Peter skated over to the bench and returned with a comb-bound book, which he handed to Daniel. “As you’ll see, at this stage, it’s all about the fundamentals. We set up stations and each station focuses on a specific skill set. We need to keep them active constantly. Children in this age group are so easily distracted—it’s not the time for speeches or talking game strategy. Our aim is to teach them control, build their confidence. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you this, but before they can really play competitively, all those essential building blocks need to be in place.”
“All right.” Daniel turned to Demetrius. “What do you usually work on with the kids?”
Demetrius shrugged. “Depends which group I’m with. They all practice on different days. Usually, it’s puck handling but I’m down for whatever.”
“Puck handling would be perfect,” Peter said. “We have cones and tires in the equipment room, if you’d like to use any of those. Miranda will work on soccer hands and ball tag, and I’ll set up an exercise station to focus on stance and balance. We’ll spend the first half of our time on the skill stations, and then we’ll have a practice game to finish.”
“Sounds good.”
“Great.” Peter grinned. “Come on, Mr. Bellamy, let’s get you introduced to the kids.”
“It’s just Daniel, please.”
Once introductions were done, Daniel took a quick moment to look over a couple of the practice plans laid out in the book. The first seemed easy enough. He started the kids in his small group on T-pushes and two-foot glides across their zone while he went to the equipment room for some orange cones for the second drill. Each drill lasted seven minutes, and Daniel did his best to make it into a fun competition wherever he could. The kids worked hard, but they were laughing too, and it uplifted him to see it.
By the time the practice game started, Daniel was smiling so hard it almost felt unnatural on his face after spending the last couple of months being miserable whenever he was in an arena.
Demetrius nudged him when they were behind the bench, watching the kids play shifts of three-on-three. “You look happy. I thought this might be good for you.”