Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,82

in to temptation and drawn a naughty doodle of a dick or something on the page next to the myriad diagrams.

The players at one point all took a knee with Daniel in the circle. Were they swearing fealty? Who knew? Seeing all these rituals up close was fascinating. He didn’t know the meaning of the drills, but that was fine—it was enough to see how much Daniel enjoyed just being there and offering his help.

He moved back to talk to the coach for the remainder of practice. When it was over, the team surrounded him again and tapped on the ice with their sticks. Micah snapped a picture of that, mostly because of Daniel’s happy expression.

Micah wasn’t surprised when, after it was over, Daniel was obliged to hang around for autographs and selfies. He was still beaming when they were heading out, Jake’s praise and words of thanks—as well as the excitement of the players—clearly putting him in a good mood.

“You know, I really wish we’d had this team here when I was a kid,” Daniel said, as he drove them toward the beach. “But it never occurred to me that Florida would get a dev league, you know? It just shows you how much talent is out there, and how the game’s really expanded.”

“Mm,” said Micah, grinning. He loved when Daniel was like this, exuberant and radiating good cheer like a heat lamp. “You seemed to have fun talking to them.”

“Yeah. It’s just. This is an important development stage, not just in terms of puck handling or skating, but in really understanding how much of this game is mental,” Daniel said, tapping the side of his head.

“Mental, huh,” Micah said, settling back in the seat of Daniel’s ridiculous car. They were heated, which was great.

Daniel glanced over at him and flushed. “Sorry, wow, was that super boring? It went about an hour longer than I thought it would.”

“Nah, it’s fine, actually...it was pretty interesting. I liked seeing how into it you were.” He remembered telling Tabby the same thing about the Rumbles’ game, but this was different. This was Daniel interacting with players that were, like he was once upon a time, hoping to make it up to the big leagues. Hoping to play every night like Daniel did, and one day achieve the same dream of lifting that big trophy and screaming on national television.

Micah remembered Daniel as a kid, and their ticker tape parade. He smiled. “I’m so proud of you,” he said, quietly. “You really did it, you know? Did the thing. The hockey thing. You won at hockey, Daniel.”

Daniel gave a sharp burst of laughter. “I don’t know about that—well, yeah, no, you’re right. I did, huh. And I guess that’s fun to remember, that I really do know what I’m doing.”

“You really do,” said Micah. “And I bet those kids are gonna feel like they can do it, too. And—wait, how old are they?”

“Fifteen, sixteen, maybe?”

“Then statistically, one of them probably wanted to kiss you. Just like I did when we were teenagers. And I’m pretty sure the coach does.”

“Ha!” Daniel chuckled.

“Did the coach play for a team, too?” Micah asked, curious. “He looked about your age, and I guess I figured all you hockey guys knew each other.”

“Nope, he was a college player for Minnesota, but didn’t get drafted. That’s why he wanted me to talk to them, I think, since I could talk about the pressures of playing in the big leagues and the focus you need to make it there.” Daniel added quickly, “Not that he didn’t have those things, Minnesota is a top-level team. But you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Micah said, wisely. “In the sense I got a job at a major rehab aquarium and not, like, Petco in the fish department.”

Daniel grinned over at him. “You’re funny.”

“And you’re hot. We make a good team. Ready to go surfing? I’m also better at that, so you can feel less competent.” He stuck his tongue out, because one of his favorite things about Daniel was just how easy their friendship was. And how they could follow it up with making out in his car, maybe. Or at Micah’s, later. Definitely.

“Whatever, look, Micah. I’m going to be a pro surfer next, it’s my retirement plan.”

“Uh-huh. One championship at a time, leave some for the rest of the mere mortals,” Micah joked, and elbowed him. “First, though, Mr. Triple Threat, take me to get a milkshake and I’ll let you feel