Summary:
Chestorford Coyotes #2
A young adult hockey romance filled with making amends, family, friends, and discovering the real person inside while juggling the crazy, upside-down world of high school.
Jonah Robinson has really messed up. He’s spent the last year hanging out with someone who wasn’t leading him in a good direction. Now that Felix has seen the light, perhaps it’s time for Jonah to do the same. Making amends is not going to be easy when he’s not exactly been the nicest guy at Chesterford. With the help of his family and a special friend at the school, Jonah is ready to try to make things right with those he wronged. The first person on that long redemption list is Tyler, the brightest player on the Coyotes, at least in Jonah’s eyes. He’s taken a thousand pictures of Tyler for the school paper, but he’s going to have to learn how to develop more than just negatives if he wants to grow close to Tyler.
Tyler Corrigan’s dad has left, his mom is terrified he’ll come back, and it’s Tyler who’s left to keep his little family in one piece. The only respite from real life is playing hockey, and he’s an important part of the Chesterford Coyotes. Despite not being the biggest person on the ice, speed is his superpower, and the team has his back during the worst of the bullying he’s had to endure. His friends make him feel safe when his real world is full of fear, but no one can protect his heart when an awkward and messed up Jonah—one of the worst of his bullies—is suddenly around every corner, wanting to make things right.
Sorry can be a difficult word to believe, but trusting your heart is everything.
Original Review October 2023:
I've been wracking my brain(and yes I know I could just look it up on my kindle but why go the easy route?😉) to recall if the authors let us know that book 2 would be Tyler and Jonah's journey but I remember being certain it would be when I read Off the Ice. I was not disappointed because the only thing keeping Tyler & Jonah from replacing Soren & Felix as my favorite pair is that S&F came first and in a multi-couple series, the first is always my favorite.
Unlike Felix, Jonah did not have a dysfunctional homelife that lead him down the path of bullying, for him it came down to peer pressure, following the pack, not quite having the courage to say "enough!". It may not make his behavior in book 1 acceptable but it does show that the ability to change is present. There were signs of his heart in his scenes in book one so watching just where his heart and thoughts are in book 2 is absolutely lovely. The scenes with his little sisters says it all, they may only be a few but for me how a brother treats his little siblings can go a long way to setting a characters' worth.
Tyler has not had it easy at home or at school thanks to the likes of Miles and one time followers, Felix and Jonah. But now that Felix has found the courage to walk away thanks to Soren and Jonah is trying to follow Felix's path, school should be easier but Miles is still around and seeing as Miles(and many in the school) believe it was Tyler who turned the bully in will it really be better? For that answer you have to read for yourself. As I stated, Tyler's homelife hasn't been the best either but breaking free of his dad's hold in their life gave both Tyler and his mom a chance at building a better future, but that doesn't mean they can just flip a switch and it's all hunky dory, it takes time but Tyler is definitely a determined youth.
Together the boys find a new way forward, though it's neither easy nor instant but perhaps that is what makes it worth fighting for all that much more sweeter. I just want to wrap them both in tight Mama Bear hugs until everything is perfect but life is about learning and growing, we readers can only do so much in the wanting to protect department. On Thin Ice is a very lovely and honest journey of growth and happiness which can make it sound and seem very adult at times. They do have to grow up sooner than most but they still are teenagers at heart, Scott & Locey do a brilliant job of balancing their youthful friendship and eventual romance with the angst that forces them to face that adulting a little sooner than many of their classmates.
As I started with not remembering if the authors' clued us into who would be at the heart of book 2 at the final page of book 1, I can say here in On the Ice we briefly met Shaun and Kenji who we know will have their story told Spring of 2024 and I can't wait. I may not read much in the young adult genre, with a few exceptions(Anne of Green Gables comes to mind) I probably have only read a handful since I myself was a young adult(as I turned to the likes of Sidney Sheldon, Danielle Steel, and Jackie Collins by the time I was 15) so I hate to make comparisons to other YA stories, especially in the LGBT area. Perhaps I'm a little biased for 2 of my favorite authors, RJ Scott & VL Locey, but I think they do an amazing job delving into the youthful storytelling in Chesterford Coyotes and of course it's definitely worthy of the Scott & Locey Hockey Universe moniker. A true delight from beginning to end.
Chapter One
Jonah
I was kind of doomed.
Actually, I was totally doomed. Like Dr. Doom was dropping all the doom he possessed—which was a lot—onto my head, and while it sucked, it was kind of expected. Still, I hated sitting at the kitchen table being chewed out by my folks as my siblings snickered in the living room.
“… cannot believe that you’ve been bullying people, Jonah. I know your mother and I raised you better. Look at me, Jonah. I want to make sure you’re soaking in what I’m saying to you.”
I raised my eyes from the bracelets on my wrist. My father’s gaze met mine across the kitchen table, and what I saw in those dark brown eyes made me feel even shittier. He was not proud of me at all, neither was Mom, who was chewing on her lower lip, her light blue eyes worried and damp. I’d made her cry. Talk about feeling like something scraped out of my baby sister’s diaper.
“I know it was wrong,” I mumbled as I fingered the slim rubber bracelet with the bi colors on it. I’d slid it on just this afternoon, after seeing Tyler and his friends from the Gay Student Alliance working on decorations for the Halloween dance. A dance I was supposed to cover for the Chesterford Chronicle, the student paper, but that I wasn’t allowed to go to because the principal had called my parents in for a conference. Seemed someone had dropped an anonymous note into the suggestion box outside the administration office saying that Jonah Robinson and Miles Brooks were using racial and homophobic slurs against other students. That had been the start of a really, awful, super-sized, monstrously bad day. And by the looks on my parents’ faces, this terrible day was going to stretch into a craptastic week or month. Hell, maybe a year. I’d probably not see the outside world apart from school until I was sixteen.
I deserved it all though.
“Jonah, if you knew it was wrong why did you do it?” Mom asked, pushing a strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear.
I wanted to explain that I’d overheard Mom and Dad talking about her job with Felix’s family’s company, about how losing her job would be a major hit to the family budget, how it worried them, how they wished they had something real they could hold onto.
I wanted to tell them the horrors of being bullied at my old school—that it didn’t matter what school I was at, I never fitted.
I wanted to explain that this was why I’d hung onto Felix, and by extension Miles, just to keep myself protected, to keep my mom’s job safe. Felix would go to bat for my mother if he and I were friends.
To try to fix everything wrong in my head.
All I could do was hang my head in shame.
“Peer pressure,” Dad snapped, pushing to his feet to get another cup of coffee. It was his third in the past hour. He’d given up smoking two years ago and had substituted coffee for the nicotine. Mom had been giving him decaf for the past six months, unbeknownst to him. “Why stay friends with Felix and Miles? You had to know that no good would come of it.”
I winced because it was all on me. I’d chosen to hang around them; it was me who’d put myself in that position.
Dad continued, this time with way more anger. “That damn Brooks family is a seething den of bigots. Remember the first time we went to the Chesterford Spring Carnival?”
“I remember,” Mom whispered, her jaw tightening.
“Greg Brooks walks up to me, big as you please, and asks me if I had permission to be on the school grounds.” Dad thunked his Carlisle Parks & Recreation mug on the counter next to the Keurig. “Does that man think that only White people are allowed to be on the Chesterford campus?” he asked the coffeemaker as he pawed in the big plastic container for the right pod. They were all the same, all green covers, but he dug around anyway, muttering to himself until he found the one that he wanted. The lone, red-covered pod amongst all the green. “Ha! Found one. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with the coffee, Emma.”
Mom gave me a wobbly smile as Dad went off about the Brooks clan. “I know that there aren’t many people of color on that campus, but to come right up to me and ask… why is this damn pot not making coffee?”
“Something probably plugged the needles. Let me fix it, just sit down, and talk to Jonah.” Mom gave my arm a pat, then rose to poke at the coffee pot needles with a paperclip. Dad sighed and flopped down across from me, then gave me one of those long, sad looks of his.
“I’m so disappointed in you, Jonah. I know it’s been hard to adjust to the new school. And I know we don’t have all the cash falling out of our—”
“Terrence, language,” Mom chided Dad. My younger siblings—three girls ranging from ten down to two—giggled out in the living room.
“Out of our pockets,” Dad hurried to amend while the opening strains of The Princess and the Frog flowed into the kitchen. “I know it’s been tough; I truly do. But you earned that scholarship in fine arts. You’re an amazing photographer. Someday, you’ll be out there snapping pictures for National Geographic or the New York Times.”
Yeah, that was the dream. If only I could fix the broken parts of me.
“I know it was wrong,” I said, again, and shame choked my words.
“Then why the hell did you do it? Why would you hang around people who are bigots? Make us understand, Jonah. Make me see why a biracial young man would pal around with two hateful people like Felix Sinclair and Miles Brooks.”
He sat back, arms folded over his wrinkled dress shirt. His tie was probably being worn by one of his daughters as a headband. Dad and Mom had been called into the principal’s office after lunch, pulling them away from his job as the director of Parks and Recreation for Carlisle Borough and her new job taking orders at the local fast food drive-thru window, which was what she has been doing since losing her job at Sinclair Industries’ main office. Both had been furious during that meeting. Furious, shocked, and ashamed.
“Felix has changed,” I blurted out. Dad rolled his eyes. Mom made a sound as she poked violently at some plastic bit from inside the coffeemaker. “He has, honestly.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Jonah. It’s easy to say you’ve changed,” Mom said, her jabbing of the plastic bit getting violent. Better the coffee basket than me. Mom was generally pretty chill, but when her only son acted like an asshole and she lost half a day’s pay, she got crabby.
“No, Felix really has changed. He’s dating Soren Rowe now, openly, and they seem really happy. Only, he kind of isn’t really talking to me and Miles anymore.” My sight went back to my wrist, the band of rubber in soft shades of pink, purple, and royal blue feeling right on my skin. I’d never actually thought of myself as bisexual, not really, until I started on the school paper at Chesterford and had an epiphany. As the lone photographer on the Chronicle staff, I covered… well, everything on campus, and lots of off-campus as well. Sports included. Which was cool because I liked sports a lot. I played tennis and basketball, not on a team, but with kids in the neighborhood or my dad. It wasn’t until I got to watch the Chesterford ice hockey team that I’d gotten into the sport. And then had the big bi wake-up call.
“That’s good to hear. Soren and his fathers are good people.” Mom finally got the coffeemaker flowing, the gurgles and hisses making Dad unclench. Soon they both had mugs in hand and were staring at me once more, waiting for me to say something brilliant. “I don’t think you should associate with Miles anymore,” Mom added, then took a sip of her coffee.
“Shouldn’t have been hanging around him to begin with,” Dad grumbled into his cup, sipping tentatively as Mom’s head bobbed. “We know you’re close to sixteen and feel the need to have your friends as you see fit, but—”
“No, no, I don’t want to hang out with Miles anymore. I was never friends with him, but after Felix went off with Soren, he expected me to… no… I won’t do it. He’s just wrong, and I won’t…” I couldn’t think of what else to say. There wasn’t any good in Miles, he wouldn’t have a redemption arc in my life story.
Mom glanced at Dad. “That’s good to hear. It’s easy to get sucked into toxic relationships when you’re new to a social group. But it’s been two years now, and you should be able to mix into a wide range of friendship groups. You’re smart, handsome, artistic, athletic, and funny.”
“Takes after his father,” Dad chimed in, his anger seeming to slowly be leaching away.
“That he does,” Mom said, leaning over to peck Dad on his neatly trimmed, bearded cheek. “I hope you can figure out where you fit in, honey.”
“Yeah, me too,” I murmured, plucking at the bracelet I’d thieved out of a box the GSA had stashed inside the front doors. They were planning on handing them out to students as they entered the dance. “So can I go to the dance on Friday?”
“You’re grounded.” Dad gave me a look over his coffee cup.
“But it’s for school,” I wheedled, then glanced at my mother, only she wasn’t backing down.
“Sorry, Jonah, but Mr. Wheeler will have to take the pictures for the dance. Being called into the principal’s office is not a minor offense, nor is bullying people. Now, go to your room and do your homework. Your father and I will decide on how long your punishment will be.”
I wanted to argue, but deep down I knew whatever they gave me would be justified. I’d been a fuck toad to some people who honestly didn’t deserve it. I got to my feet in silence and pushed in my chair, my eyes on the tips of my sneakers.
“And, son, we expect you to apologize to everyone you hurt,” Dad said, his words pulling my sight from my Converse. “I don’t care if Felix or Miles do it or not, your mother and I raised you to be kind to people, and if you hurt someone, you say you’re sorry. Isn’t that right, girls?”
“That’s right, Daddy!” Lana, Gemma, and Polly all yelled back in unison. Mom beamed, then frowned when the sound of shouting was followed by crying, then a feeble “Sorry” from Gemma. Mom pushed to her feet and exited the kitchen.
Dad gave me a firm look. “I mean it, Jonah. You make amends to the kids you hurt.”
“I will,” I whispered, rubbing my new bracelet.
I rushed my father, hugged him hard, then bolted out of the kitchen, through the living room to the stairs. Those I climbed two at a time, my vision blurry from unshed tears I did not want anyone to see. I burst through the door to my room, closed it, locked it, and then, stood in the center of my space as the tears ran down my cheeks. I dashed them away, unsure why I was even crying. The past couple of years had been hard.
So hard.
Being pulled from public school and dropped into a private school in my freshman year had been exciting. For about two days. Then, the differences between my middle-class family and most of the other families of the students at Chesterford had really started to show.
I could count on two hands the number of students at Chesterford who were BIPOC. There was one other Black guy on campus, Reggie Dunleavy, who played football and was the son of two plastic surgeons. A couple of Asian kids attended, and one Latina girl who was graduating this year, the daughter of Hector Manuel Rivera, the assistant mayor of Harrisburg and his wife, Elena, a corporate lawyer. Then there was me. Jonah Robinson, son of hard-working people with more love than ready cash, admitted to a scholarship program that opened the doors of private schools to the less fortunate. Of course, the wording on the application had been different, but that was the gist.
I toed off my shoes, fell across my bed, rolled to my back to stare at the poster of Johny Pitts, one of my idols. Johny was a biracial photographer and had made a name for himself in the UK doing a photo journey with poet Roger Robinson. They’d driven across the country asking What Is Black Britain? and the images and words from that trip were stunning. Someday, I hoped to be able to do something as meaningful as that for the world. Mom assured me I would, but it seemed so far away right now. I’d gotten off light at school, pulling three days detention for an admitted verbal battle Miles had gotten into while I’d hung back like a coward. I should have stood up for the kid Miles was calling a weak little sissy before giving the freshman a shoulder slam as he strolled away. I said nothing to Miles, but I did apologize to the kid before heading the opposite direction from Miles. I’d heard Miles shouting my name, but I had kept walking, and I planned to keep walking away from that kind of shit. Whether I found my crew or not. I just hoped I did find them soon. It was lonely being different…
I stared up at Johny as the sounds of my sister’s singing along to “Almost There” filtered up the stairs. When Dad’s voice joined the singalong, I had to tune out. Dad could not sing, like at all, but he sure thought he was the next coming of Snoop. Which he was not.
I found a playlist that I liked, pulling up something from one of my fave hip-hop/punk bands. While the family was jamming to Disney, I was listening to a trio of POC musicians singing about burning down the system, wondering if being biracial and bisexual was one too many bis for one dude to tote around.
I’d been drifting off when a soft knocking at my door pulled me from the hazy ether of in-between wakefulness and sleep.
“Jo-bah,” Polly whispered under the crack of my door. “Jo-bah, lemme in peas.”
There was nothing I could do, but let her in. There were times when my baby sisters got on my nerves, but overall, I loved them more than mostly anything on the planet. Aside from my parents, and our cat Linus. Oh, and my Kodak digital camera, purchased outright by me after working all summer at Betty Lo’s Creamery selling ice cream cones and milkshakes. Mom and Dad had been so proud of me for earning that money. Now, they thought I was a slug.
I am a slug. I’m lower than that. I’m just the same as the kids who’d picked on me at my old school.
I’m worse because I should have known better.
“Jo-bah, peas,” my baby sister called, and so, being a dopey, smitten big brother, I left my bed and unlocked the door for her.
She gazed up at me, a drawing in her chubby hand, big brown eyes set in her tan, round face, her hair a wild mass of light brown curls no comb or brush could ever tame. All the girls had tight curls, same as me, I just kept mine buzzed because who has the time? Besides, I got cool designs in the clipped sides like lightning bolts, half-moons, spiderwebs, and stars.
“Jo-bah sad?” she asked as she handed the drawing up to me. “You crying?”
“No, I’m not crying, but I am kind of sad,” I replied, examining the drawing. It was a brown circle with two black ovals that were maybe my eyes. Blue lines ran out of the black ovals, so possibly, those were tears? “Did you make this?”
“Uh-huh,” she answered, skirting around me to dash into my room, then climb onto my bed. She flopped to her back—Little Mermaid nightgown twisted around her middle, her chunky thighs and calves exposed—and grabbed her toes. “I see Johny.”
“Yeah, he’s still there.” I sat down beside her as she tried to stick her big toe into her nose. “Don’t do that,” I said, and she quit. For now. “Thanks for the drawing.”
“You well-comb. Why you sad?”
I fell back on the bed to lie beside her. She giggled and cuddled in close to my side. The girl was a major cuddle-bug. I’d lost count how many times she’d left her toddler bed to come into my room to sleep with me—at least twice a week, if not more. I didn’t mind. My bed was more than big enough for one teenager and one toddler.
“I did something bad,” I told her, figuring that was enough for her.
“Oh, Jo-bah, why did you do bad things?” she asked as she rooted under my arm. I lifted it, and she snuggled into my side.
“I don’t know. Why do you do bad things?” I asked, then glanced at her. She’d popped her thumb into her mouth, a sure sign she was tired. She shrugged. “Yeah, same here. But I won’t do those bad things anymore.”
Her tiny hand, the one with the free thumb, came up to pat my face. “Jo-bah good boy forever now,” she said—or I think that was what she said—around her thumb before her long lashes fell to rest on her pudgy cheeks. As she slept peacefully at my side, I pulled a notebook out of my backpack and opened it to a new page.
I had a list to make of the people I’d hurt.
And at the top of that list was Tyler Corrigan.
Yeah, I was doomed as doomed could be.
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Writing love stories with a happy ever after – cowboys, heroes, family, hockey, single dads, bodyguards
USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, firefighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.
She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a box of chocolates she couldn’t defeat.
V.L. Locey loves worn jeans, yoga, belly laughs, walking, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee.
(Not necessarily in that order.)
She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two cats, a flock of assorted domestic fowl, and two Jersey steers.
When not writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand.
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