she probably didn’t even register she’d been saying it for so many years.
She met Aiden’s gaze over their parents’ heads. This was her home. They’d all given up so much because of her cancer. Extras had been nonexistent growing up and even now, her parents made do with twenty-year-old furniture and outdated carpeting. Never once had she heard them complain about the medical bills that’d forbade any luxuries. No one had.
They’d squeezed five kids into a three-bedroom ranch with a generous basement and raised them all with the family values they’d learned from their parents. Her mother was a first-generation American Irish Catholic with seven siblings. Dad was lucky he’d gotten her to stop with five kids. Big families equaled a home for her.
Jacqui sent a smile to her brother and ducked down the stairs to her sanctuary. The basement bedroom had been the coveted spot from the time it’d been added, and she’d scored it as soon as Aiden had moved out. She’d just never expected to still be there when she was twenty-five years old.
Chapter Five
“Pick up your feet and get moving, Roller!”
The harsh call from the defensive line coach was a gibe Henrik wanted to ignore, yet he dug deep and powered forward to cut off the offensive attack. His thighs burned with the effort as he stretched, stick extended to knock the puck away from Shaffer.
Henrik chased the puck down and blasted it back up the ice to Hauke. The whistle blew, play coming to a stop after Hauke made a weak goal shot on the other end of the rink.
“That’s it,” Coach O called. “Huddle up.”
Henrik tapped Shaffer on the shoulder. “Nice playing.” The young’un hadn’t been cut from the roster yet, and there was a good chance he’d make it on the opening game lineup if he kept playing like he had.
“Thanks.” Shaffer unsnapped his helmet, grin wide. “I almost beat your tired old ass.”
“You wish.” There was no way Henrik would admit it was true.
“I know.” Shaffer winked and skated away before Henrik could respond.
The cocky little shit. Henrik shook his head, sweat flying. He came to a stop near the bench and yanked his helmet off. The two-hour practice had followed a one-hour conditioning workout, and his hunger was gnawing its annoyance at his stomach lining.
His mind wandered the entire time Coach O was giving his rundown on the practice. What they needed to work on, who needed to hustle more, how Detroit was going to stomp on them tomorrow night if they didn’t fix this or that or whatever. His upcoming lunch with Jacqui took center stage in his thoughts. He listened, but he’d heard most of it before in one form or another.
“Hey,” Hauke said when they were finally allowed to head to the locker room. “Where’s your head been this week?”
“Right here.” Henrik pointed to his head, expression flat.
“Ass.” Hauke shoved through the door and stowed his stick on the stick rack.
Henrik followed, doing the same with his stick, and trudged after a silent Hauke to the dressing room. The pungent scent of old sweat greeted him as he entered, the big fans in the middle doing little to air out the space.
Henrik plunked down on the bench and quickly started to undress. He still had forty-five minutes until he had to meet Jacqui and he wanted to get in a cooldown before he showered. He stripped to his compression shorts and a T-shirt, slipped his tennis shoes on and ignored the conversation around him. He made a quick detour to his locker to grab his phone and headphones then headed upstairs to the rows of stationary bikes.
He was the first one there, which gave him the pick of bikes. He was five minutes into his cooldown before other guys started trickling in. Sparks took a bike next to Henrik’s, and he silently groaned. So much for a bit of quiet.
He jerked his headphones off and hung them over the front of the machine. It was only a matter of time before Sparks started talking.
“How’re you feeling?” the man asked about a minute later.
“Good.”
There was a long pause before the next comment came. “You and Rylie are working well together.”
And how did he respond? Anything would be wrong, and there was nothing he could do if Coach decided to shift Rylie to the first pair with him and bump Sparks down to the second.
“I’m just playing my game,” Henrik said.
“I know.” Sparks rubbed his eyes then shook out his