Desire or Defense: An Enemies-to-Lovers Hockey Romance (D.C. Eagles Hockey)
Desire or Defense: Chapter 9

STILL REELING from my bizarre interaction with Mitch Anderson, I slowly turn toward my brother who’s brooding beside me. “Have all your stuff?”

He tilts his head toward his gigantic hockey bag on his shoulders. I don’t know how he even carries that thing. It’s bigger than he is.

“Andie! Wait up!” I hear Steph’s voice as she runs toward us, waving me down. Dang it, all I want to do is go home, take a shower and go to bed.

I hand Noah the car keys and he walks toward the parking lot, leaving me and Steph to our conversation. “Oh, hey Steph.”

Work ran late today, and I made it to the iceplex just in time to catch the end of Noah’s practice. I’m exhausted. Also, I feel like we live here. Hopefully, Steph’s conversation is quick, as much as I enjoy chatting with her. Tori is right behind her and they both settle in front of me. Tori smiles, but Steph’s expression turns hesitant.

“Well, look who finally remembered warm clothing,” Tori teases, patting my shoulder.

I laugh and flick the yarn ball on top of my head. I’m still wearing my usual scrubs, but remembered to keep a bag in the car with a fleece jacket and snow hat.

Steph clears her throat. “Hey, did anyone talk to you about the boys?”

I feel the blood drain from my face. I’ve just gotten sort of used to parenting and adapting to Noah’s schedule. I don’t think I’m ready for altercations with other parents yet.

I swallow slowly. “Um, yeah. Coach Anderson talked to me.”

Steph’s eyebrows shoot up. “No fair! I got Coach Aaron.” She groans. “Anyway, what did he say?”

“Well, they didn’t give me any names,” I start off. “But I was told some of the boys are teasing Noah about…” I pause, wrinkling my nose at how awkward this is. “About me. And I guess it’s been really bothering him and he’s been reacting aggressively.”

She snorts a humorless laugh, clearly offended, even though I didn’t do anything. “This is ridiculous. Coach Aaron told me Declan is one of the boys teasing Noah. But Declan would never speak disrespectfully like that.” Steph eyes Tori expectantly.

Tori takes the hint and hedges before adding, “Yeah… Declan is such a sweetheart.”

“I know!” Steph says, putting her palms up toward the ceiling. “That just doesn’t sound like him at all.”

I shrug one shoulder. “I’m sure he is, Steph. I’m just repeating what I was told.” I offer her a kind smile so she knows I’m not upset. I want to tell her Noah is in therapy and working through his grief and anger, but that feels like betraying him. He might be embarrassed if his friends found out.

Steph’s eyebrows scrunch together, I’ve never seen her so serious. “Well, I’ll talk to him. But don’t you think maybe Noah is exaggerating?”

It takes all my self-control to keep my face from contorting into a scowl. I’m used to working with people who are much grouchier and more difficult than Steph is at this moment.

“Thanks, Steph. I appreciate you talking to him.”

They both stare at me, and I wonder if Steph isn’t used to people not rolling over for her. But I won’t throw Noah under the bus and make it seem like this is all his fault. Sure, Noah needs to learn to control his temper and his emotions, but the other boys need to learn to keep their mouths shut.

“Right,” Steph says after a long pause. “Well, I need to get home.” She walks away almost as abruptly as Mitch did.

I roll my lips together, not sure what to do in this situation. Tori gives me a sympathetic look. “It’ll all get smoothed out, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” I force a smile.

I walk out to the car, feeling defeated. Just as I make it to my little sedan, I notice the headlights of a really nice vehicle parked a few rows over from us. The vehicle is sporty, black, and perfectly polished, so it stands out amidst the few cars still left. I wonder if it’s Mitch, but don’t know why he’d still be here.

Sliding inside my car, I glance at the expensive vehicle once more. It pulls out of its spot just as I’m buckling my seatbelt. Briefly, very briefly, I wonder if Mitch saw Noah come to the car alone and waited until I joined him before leaving, like he wanted to make sure Noah was safe by himself.

Nah… that doesn’t sound like the man who’s so grumpy and impatient with the kids. There’s no way.

Plus, I’m not even sure that was Mitch, anyway.

Adjusting my rear view mirror, I start backing out of the parking spot. “Are you sure you’re good with working with Coach Anderson?” I ask Noah, who hasn’t said a word yet. “I really thought you didn’t like him.”

Noah’s shoulder shrugs, but he keeps his gaze on the passenger window. “I don’t have to like him. He can help my game,” he says in a cold tone.

I nod and lift my hand to turn the music up a little, but right before I do, I hear Noah quietly say, “and he’s not so bad.”

Noah doesn’t speak the rest of the way home, but a warm, fuzzy feeling takes root inside of me. Noah found someone he can actually tolerate besides Ronda. A man he can look up to.

Is Mitch Anderson really the kind of man he should be emulating? I don’t know. But something deep in my gut tells me there’s more to Mitch than he shows to the world… that maybe, somewhere deep down, like way deep down, he’s actually a sweetheart.

This is where being an optimist is tricky… because optimism easily leads to shattered expectations later on down the road.

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