Meet Your Match (Kings of the Ice, #1)(37)

The guys had taken my coaching from that night at Boomer’s and done everything to make sure Maven felt comfortable with us — whether we were in the public’s eye or alone in the arena. I didn’t know why Maven had felt vulnerable enough to open up to me about what happened with her ex, but I knew one thing.

I didn’t want to be lumped into the same category as him, and I wanted my team to prove to Maven that we weren’t all the same.

When we were in the back of the black car I’d arranged for us, she watched the city pass out the window, taking in the cool, gray day painting the city.

I watched her.

She frowned when we pulled into the parking lot of the old, beaten-down rink — first at the scenery, then at me, and then again at the building as we both got out of the car. I tapped the trunk twice with my fist until the driver popped it, and then with my duffle bag slung over my shoulder, I led the way.

“What is this?” Maven asked.

“You’ll see.”

It was quiet when we walked into the rink, save for the sounds that always came with it — skates gliding, pucks being hit, sticks scraping the ice. I smiled at the familiarity of it, of how it took me back to a simpler time when Mom and Dad put me in pads as a kid and told me to just have fun.

Bobby Green stood in the box, his hands on his hips while he watched the kids skate around on the ice. He had a whistle between his teeth, and he shook his head at something before he glanced over at where Maven and I had just walked in.

The whistle fell from his mouth, and a grin split his face. “Well, I’ll be damned. Vince Tanev.”

That made half the rink stop skating, and one by one, the kids lit up with recognition.

“Nice to see you, Coach,” I said, shaking his hand. His players had stopped skating, and were standing at various places in the rink watching us and whispering to each other.

“I thought you were joking, you know.”

“Well, here’s proof that I was serious.”

Bobby and I had played at Michigan together. But where I went to the show, he came back to his hometown to coach at the rink where he’d learned how to play. He wanted to give back to the community that gave so much to him, and to give more kids with lesser financial means the opportunity to play.

Hockey wasn’t exactly cheap, and I respected him more than I could say for giving up his own dream to help the kids in his community chase theirs.

I was far too selfish, too driven to be the best for me to ever do the same.

When we’d graduated, on our last night out, I told Bobby I’d come see him when I was in the city. He’d laughed me off, saying I’d be too busy fighting off girls to remember him.

Seeing his smile right now was worth more than any night I’d ever had with a puck bunny.

Without a word, he clapped me on the shoulder, his eyes speaking volumes. “How long do we have you for?”

“Maybe an hour.”

His eyes flicked behind me to Maven then, and he arched a brow at me before extending a hand for her. “Excuse my former teammate for being a rude sonofabitch,” he said. “I’m Bobby.”

“Maven,” she said, smiling as she shook his hand.

I realized then that only half the kids on the rink were staring at me, because the other half were very firmly staring at her. They had to be somewhere in the twelve to fourteen range, so I couldn’t blame them.

Maven was a sexual awakening if I ever did see one.

“Ah, you’re the one giving us all access to Tampa’s Hotshot Rookie!” he said, giving me a fake one-two punch with the words. He shook his head once he was upright again. “I think they should have you in front of the camera, if you ask me.”

Maven smiled. “I’m nowhere near as interesting as this one,” she said, pointing to me.

“And he’s nowhere near as jaw dropping.”

Bobby always had a way with the ladies, which was exactly why he was already married at twenty-three.

“Alright, easy there, Bobbers,” I said.

“What, you two dating?”

“No,” Maven answered quickly.

Bobby grinned, looking at me like he saw something I didn’t. “Then I guess I’m free to remark on her beauty all day if I want to, Vinny.”

“And I’m free to tell your wife about it?”

He pointed at me. “You win. Alright!” He blew his whistle, calling his team over. “Well, boys. We have approximately sixty minutes with Vince Tanev.” He grinned at me when they all buzzed with excitement at the confirmation of it really being me. When he turned back to them, he asked one simple question. “Where should we start?”

He was met with silence.

And then, every player talking over each other trying to be the one to answer first.

Once I had on skates and pads, I took to the ice, running drills with the team and offering pointers where I had them. When I’d look over at Maven, Bobby was always yakking it up beside her. The guy couldn’t help himself.

I spent about forty-five minutes on the ice, and the last fifteen taking pictures and signing autographs. Then, with one last hug from my former teammate and friend, Maven and I were back in the car and on our way to the hotel.

I already felt more refreshed, energized by the excitement of the kids at the rink.

“Bobby had some fun stories to tell,” Maven said as we rode across town.