At this point in his career with a Cup win under his belt and an all-star team in the making, he’s approaching living legend status, so it means a lot to me that someone like him cares enough to be taking me under his wing like this. He really must believe in me and what I can do, and that lights a fire inside me. But I have to admit, I haven’t exactly been taking his advice before now.

“That’s every player’s worst nightmare,” I finally say, and Dunaway nods at me.

“Exactly. So like I said, you’ve gotta take care of yourself, on and off the ice. Speaking of which, how’s the yoga been going?”

My stomach knots at the question. Hannah has made it abundantly clear that her dad would never approve of the feelings I have for her, and I feel like an asshole for keeping this secret from him when he’s being so transparent with me. But it’s not like telling him the truth would do any of us any good, so I swallow back my guilt.

“It’s helping a lot so far. Hannah’s an amazing teacher. It must run in the family.”

“Now you’re just kissing my ass,” Dunaway says, although he smiles at me. “But you’re right. Hannah’s talented. I can’t wait to see what she does in a courtroom. Teaching yoga as a side hustle to help pay for school is one thing, but when she lands her first real job at a law firm, these judges and juries aren’t going to know what hit them.”

Something protective stirs in my chest at that, some little impulse to defend her. I don’t see why the two things have to be mutually exclusive, especially if Hannah enjoys and is good at them both, but I try my best not to let my thoughts show on my face.

“Anyway, don’t let me keep you, Murray. I can talk all day long, but I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

“Thanks for the talk, Coach. I appreciate it.”

“Anytime. But remember what I said.”

“I will. I actually have a session with Hannah in a bit, so I’d better get cleaned up.”

Dunaway raises his eyebrows. “Oh, good. I’ll have to tell her to keep up the good work. If the pivot I just saw you do is any indication of your progress, you’re going to be a real killer after another few sessions.”

“I’ll try. See you later, Coach.”

Dunaway waves as I turn and skate across the ice to go to the locker room, but his words follow me.