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9. Luke

Chapter 9

Luke

I stared at my reflection in the glass, the city skyline stretching out before me. The condo was so quiet with Keke out. Too quiet. But I could get used to that again.

Something about staring out at the city made me pensive. Or maybe that was just my mood. I didn’t like being alone with my thoughts, they lacked comfort.

At thirty years old, every time I lace up my skates, I can feel the years creeping up on me. My body doesn’t recover the way it used to. Some mornings I'll wake up with stiffness in my knees that wasn't there a decade ago. I’m not old, not by a long shot, but in the world of professional hockey, I wasn't exactly a spring chicken anymore, either.

Lucas, on the other hand, is fast, young, sharp, and full of energy, just like I used to be. The kid has a good head on his shoulders, too, which is almost more dangerous than his speed. I’m not worried about losing my spot, not yet anyway, but there is a nagging feeling that I can’t seem to shake. Not fear, exactly, more like uncertainty. Doubt.

I need to get my head straight, and I know just the guy to talk to.

Sebastian Blue was in my shoes not that long ago. Hell, he’s a couple years older than me and still going strong. Seb’s a strange one, a billionaire's son who never needed to work a day in his life, let alone throw himself into the punishing grind of pro hockey. But he had, and he'd done it well. He’s always been a guy I respected, not just for his skill, but how he reinvented himself when everyone thought he'd coast through life on his family's fortune. If anyone could help me put this Lucas situation into perspective, it was him.

I grab my keys and head for the door, making my way to Seb’s house. It’s just a quick drive to a sub of sprawling estates that feel more like a palace than a home.

I’m not much for that kind of thing. After growing up in that kind of environment I tend to like things simpler. Luxury condos were about as extravagant as I got, but Seb makes it work. It suits him.

The gate opens automatically when I arrive. I head up the winding driveway and park in front of the massive house. The place looks like something out of a magazine, with its manicured lawns and retro architecture. Seb has good taste.

As I get out of the car, he appears at the front door, waving me over. “Luke, glad you could make it.” He’s dressed casually in jeans and a faded tee shirt, a far cry from the polished image most people see of him in the media.

“Hey, man,” I say as I walk up to him, shaking his hand. “New flowers?”

“Nelly’s pick. Come on in.” He leads me inside, the interior just as impressive as the exterior. Wide open plan, with floor to ceiling windows that let in natural light and give a perfect view of the backyard pool terrace. “Let's grab a drink.”

We head into the bar where Seb pulls out a couple of beers from the fridge, handing one to me. I take a swig, feeling the cold liquid bubble down my throat as I lean against the counter. A sense of relief hits with the alcohol. “I appreciate you letting me come by on short notice.”

“I figured it was important. You never text, ‘I need to talk.’ So, talk.”

“How the hell did you do it? I mean, how did you go from being the son of a tech mogul to a hockey player? You had it all laid out for you. You could have done anything, but you chose this.”

He chuckles, setting his beer down on the counter. “This isn't really about me though, is it?”

“What do you mean?”

He crosses his arms, eyes narrowing slightly as he studies me. “The kid is getting under your skin, isn't he?” Seb has the kind of magic eyes that see right through you. I think you get those when you become a parent.

There was no point in denying it. “Maybe a little. He's good, Seb, fast, smart. He's what I was ten years ago, and it's hard not to see him and wonder how long I've got left.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I get it. I experienced the same thing when I first came into the league and bumped heads with Bryan Addaway. But he was the veteran, and I was the new kid. We didn't exactly hit it off at first, but I wasn't going anywhere, and neither was he. You saw how that shook out last year.”

Yeah, Bryan was now out of a job. Deservedly so. I take another sip of my beer, letting his words sink in. “So what's the trick, then? How do you deal with being older than everyone else?”

“Not everyone, thank you very much. There’s Roman, Harry, Fabian.”

“You know what I mean.”

He pauses. “I knew I was on the older side to start a new athletic career, barring golf. And maybe it was crazy but I had to do it.”

“Why?”

“For me, it was all about the challenge. I got into hockey because I needed something that pushed me, something that made me feel alive. I could have gone into space, bought a super yacht, did all the typical billionaire things banging models and celebrities, but all of that bored the hell out of me. Hockey was different.”

“How so?”

A smile comes over him. “It’s hard.”

I huff a laugh and nod. “And that made you want to do it? Because it’s tough?”

“You can’t fake it with hockey. Either you’re good, or you're not. You can get better at it, but there has to be a certain amount of natural talent in there, too, or the ice will eat your ass.”

“True. And not in a fun way.”

He snorts. “There’s always something to learn and it’s always challenging. And I had to earn it, you know? Hockey is something I’ve had to actually work for, no one could just hand it to me on a silver platter.”

I lift a brow. “Space isn’t easy. Don’t you have to go through astronaut training?”

Seb laughs, shaking his head. “Not when you have the right amount of money. And the little bit of training you do go through is much easier than you think.”

“Huh. I’ve always wanted to go to space. I should look into that.”

“To each their own. But that's also the point. I wanted to do something that mattered to me , not just because it was expected.”

“I get that.” I immediately realize what’s expected of me is to fuck up again. “I don’t want to do the expected, either.”

“Good. So when it comes to Lucas, remember that he's not here to replace you. He's here to play the game, just like you are. There's room for both of you on the team. He just needs to get his head out of his ass.”

Before I can respond, we hear footsteps. A second later, Nelly, his new wife, appears. She’s holding a plate of cookies, her dark hair tied back in a loose ponytail. “Oh good, you're still here. I brought snacks.”

“Well aren’t you just the best wife in the world. Are those chocolate chip? Gimme.” I hold out my hand. I’d been craving them ever since Keke told me the name of her preposterous book.

She sets the plate down on the counter and kisses Seb on the cheek. He smiles instantly. “Nice of you to join us. We're busy solving the world's problems.”

“I'm sure,” she responds sarcastically. “Can't imagine two grown men standing around gossiping.”

He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. Nelly squeals in surprise, swatting at him playfully, but she doesn’t move away. They’re both laughing, completely at ease with each other. It’s the kind of easy going that comes with a deep connection. Watching them, I feel something twist inside my chest.

It isn’t jealousy. I’m not jealous of Seb. He’s my friend, and I’m happy for him. As attractive as Nelly is, I have no interest in her. She sits firmly in the sister category in my head on account of their marriage.

But watching them, seeing how close they are, how effortlessly they fit together, makes me realize just how much I want that for myself. It hits me harder than expected, settling deep into my bones.

Nelly catches my expression and grins. “Don't listen to him, Luke. Seb’s just trying to distract you with all of his deep wisdom, but I know for a fact he already bought the super yacht. He came to the Fire because he needed something else to add to his billionaire bucket list.”

Seb rolls his eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at his mouth. “It's barely a super yacht, just a regular yacht, really.”

“And now you're stuck playing hockey instead of sailing the seven seas? I tease.

He laughs. “Pretty much, but honestly, I'd pick hockey every time. It's my challenge, and it keeps me on my toes. I love it.”

Nelly pinches his arm. “It's my job to keep you on your toes. Not hockey’s.”

I know they’re joking, but I understand it more than I want to admit. That’s part of what makes hockey special. There’s always something to prove, a new accomplishment to tackle. But what makes it special also makes it hard to let it go. The challenge of it never stops, not even when you start to feel the weight of your years. It just pushes you that much harder.

Sebastian must have sensed my inner unease because he turns serious again. “Luke, you've got more years than you think. And when it comes time to step back, you'll know. But don't let the kid rattle you. He's not your competition. He's your teammate. You'll be a better player for it if you can figure out how to make that work. So will he.”

I nod though I’m not sure if I fully believe him. It’s not about Lucas, not really. It’s about me figuring out how to keep pushing myself when I’m not sure how much more I have left to give.

“What about your new handler? How's that going?” Nelly asks.

“Keke. She's a peach, but she's wound tighter than a spring.”

She giggles, clearly amused. “Sounds like she could use some loosening up.”

Seb grins. “You gonna help her with that, Luke?”

I preferred thinking about Keke instead of the existential crisis that had been knocking around in my head all day. Dealing with her was far easier than contemplating the end of my career. “Maybe. I've got a plan.”

I don’t elaborate, mostly because I’m not entirely sure what the plan is yet. But as I finish my beer and watch Seb and Nelly joke and laugh together, I feel the outline of something forming in the back of my mind.

Keke is different, sharp. No nonsense, all business. But there’s something about her underneath that professional exterior that makes me wonder if she needs someone in her life who can help her see it from a different angle.

I’m not sure yet if that someone is me but I’m damn sure going to find out.

-

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