by Toni Aleo
“Are Phillip and Reese excited?”
Claire grins as she shrugs sheepishly. Everyone knows that her uncle would rather gouge his eyeballs out than accept that Claire and Jude are together. “Well, Phillip is Phillip, but Reese is really excited for me. They both think we are young.”
Mom smiles as she nods. “You two are, but who cares? You’re in love!”
I hear Lucy let out a breath of annoyance, and I lean into her to show her I love her. She was young when she married Rick, only twenty-three, but I truly believe the douche wasn’t made for her. She needs someone who’s gonna be there for her and be appreciative of her. Not someone who’s going to knock her up and smack her around when she doesn’t have dinner on the table.
That’s why Rick doesn’t come around here. We all want to kill him.
“Saw that fight, bro. I don’t think it’s good to fight the future in-laws,” I tease, and he laughs as Claire rolls her eyes. The fat lip from the fight between him and Claire’s uncle, forward Phillip Anderson of the Nashville Assassins, is coming in real nice. He looks like he has a growth on his mouth, but I don’t think Claire cares.
“He had it coming.”
“Weren’t you singing to him? That’s what the announcers said,” Jace says, leaning against the table, trying to fit in the screen.
Jude laughs, and Claire can’t even hide her smile as he says, “Yeah, I was.”
“What?” Lucy asks. “What were you singing?”
“‘Rude’ by Magic! ” he says between his laughter. “Pissed him the hell off. It was great.”
“You’re such an ass,” Claire says with a shake of her head.
“You are! Don’t do that anymore!” Mom scolds, but even she is having a hard time hiding her grin. It’s funny and a really fitting song since Phillip was not about to give permission for Jude to marry Claire. Not that he needed it, but still, we are about honor and respect around here. It’s surprising that Phillip finally agreed, honestly.
“I won’t. We came to an understanding. I think he likes me now,” Jude says, but I scoff.
“Whoa, don’t get ahead of yourself there, guy,” I say, and everyone laughs as Claire nods.
“I think tolerate is a better word for his feelings toward you,” she says, and Jude shrugs.
“At least my family loves you,” he says, and we all are smiling. We really do love Claire. She’s good for Jude.
“Yes, we do! So, a date?” Mom asks, but they both shake their heads before explaining that with the season and Claire’s burlesque club, everything is up in the air. We all talk a bit more about the engagement and the wedding. I’m ready to let them go, but we only talk twice a week and I like to listen to everything going on with them. So I suffer through the wedding talk just to watch my brother be happy.
Remember, I’m the sensitive one, but Jace and Lucy already said bye, leaving only Mom and me.
“Camp starts next week, right?” Jude asks and I nod.
“Yup.”
“I’ll be back, I’m gonna start dinner. Call me when you’re done talking hockey,” Mom says as she gets up.
Jude then asks, “Going for captain?”
“You know it,” I say with a grin. “I should get it. I think Jace and Frayer are wanting alternate. No one wants captain, so I should be good.”
“Good, you deserve it. I heard Moss got picked up by the Wild though.”
My face scrunches up. “What?”
“Yeah, it’s superquiet right now, but the coach was messing up and they fired him. They want Moss.”
“No way!” I say since I haven’t heard anything about this. “How did I not hear about this?”
“Crazy quiet, dude, no one knows. The only reason I do is because I still talk to Moss.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say since I’d forgotten that. “So who is the new coach gonna be? Raymond?” I ask, speaking of our assistant.
“No, they brought someone new in.”
“Who? Do I know them?”
“I can’t remember his name. Rivers, maybe? He played for the Bruins, coached at some really big schools. He’s supposed to be pretty badass.”
Hearing about the Bruins brings Baylor to mind, but I quickly stuff that away and nod. “Hope he’s not a dick.”
Jude laughs. “He probably is, but he’ll make you great.”
“Yeah,” I agree and let out a breath. I really don’t like change, and Moss was a great coach. It kind of pisses me off that none of us have been told this. “I bet that’s why we have to be there twenty minutes earlier on Monday. So they can tell us.”
“Yeah, probably. There is some drama around this guy though from the board. Moss said he couldn’t get into it with me.”
“What? But he can tell you he’s leaving for the Wild? Dude is selective as hell.”
Jude laughs. “Yeah, for sure, but he told me not to worry, that you and Jace were gonna be fine.”
“Cool,” I say with a nod.
“How’s your wrister?”
Deadpan, I look at my brother as he fights a grin. “What? I had to ask,” he says as Claire shakes her head.
“Great! You told her?” I complain and Jude shrugs.
“I tell Claire everything.”
“He does,” she agrees as she leans into him.
“Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes. “There was nothing to tell.”
“I beg to differ. That’s some intense stuff,” Claire says, her eyes widening as she moves her flaming red hair out of her eyes. “You should really call her.”
“Yeah, because I have her number. I’ll get right on that.”
“It’s 2015, you can find her number,” she suggests, and I wave her off.
“She doesn’t want to see me or talk to me. I fucked that all up,” I say sadly, and even though it’s been two months, that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about her every day since. I can still see her little baby hairs coming from the braid her hair was in and flying in the ocean breeze. The way her eyes lit up when she scored that goal against me. Or the way she felt pressed against my body. Or the taste of her sweet mouth. I’ve stalked every single one of her social media sites. The fact that I check her Instagram every day just to see if she changed her profile picture is downright pitiful. She has all her stuff on private though, so I only have her profile pictures to go off of. I mean, I can’t see anything. She’s locked down like the White House.
Which I find very suspect.
What is she hiding? Did she get a boyfriend? Why do I care if she got a boyfriend? Maybe she had a boyfriend the whole time? I mean, so many questions that really shouldn’t matter to me. But every day, I look and I ask, what would happen if I messaged her? Would she even answer me? And if she did, would it be more than a simple fuck-the-fuck-off? I have no clue because I’m too big of a coward to try. It doesn’t matter though, and the sooner I realize this, the better. Because I’m never going to see her again, I’m never going to message her, so really, I need to let her go. Hockey is about to start, and girls are about to be falling into my lap in no time once the C is put on my chest.
So yeah, I need to let her go.
The problem is, I’ve been trying to do that since Florida.
And no luck so far.
I can smell the ice.
Someone is skating.
Oh, the sound of the puck.
I’m home.
And man, I’m so fucking excited.
Following behind my teammates, we all go on the ice before playing around with the bucket of pucks that were left for us as we wait for the coaching staff. Word got out about Coach Moss leaving, not from me of course, and so we are all excited to find out who the new coach is and if he’ll be worth a damn. I did a Google search on a Coach Rivers but couldn’t find anything, so I’m pretty sure Jude didn’t have the name right. I tried to find something on it, but like Jude said, it’s pretty damn quiet and that makes me nervous.
Taking the puck, I pass it through my legs and then kick it u
p just as Jace rushes the net, tapping the ice. I sail it to him and he goes top shelf over Shane’s shoulder. It almost feels like it does when Jude and I are on the ice, and when Jace flashes me his little girlie grin, I can’t help but grin back as we high-five.
“We’re gonna murder this year!” he exclaims before stealing the puck I was about to play and rushing the goal again.
“Yeah, if I don’t kill you,” I say, but he isn’t listening to me.
“Hey yo, Jay,” Frayer says, coming up and stopping beside me.
I tap his shin as I nod my head to him. “What up, bro?”
“Nothing much, but did you see the new guy?”
Looking at where he is cocking his head, I see that, down the ice, a guy is playing by himself. Raising my brows in a perplexed way, I ask, “What the hell is he doing down there?”
“I have no clue, but I think he’s wearing lipstick.”
“What?” I ask incredulously because surely I heard him wrong, but when the guy turns the corner, I see that it does look like he’s wearing lipstick.
Bright red shit.
“What the fuck?”
“Right, maybe he’s a cross-dresser?”
I shrug. “I don’t care what he is as long as he can pass, shoot, block, and score. Might need to discuss the red lips though.”
“True that,” he says with a nod, and then he scoffs. “Either way, Moss comes out here and sees him down there by himself, we’re gonna get shit. If you don’t go welcome the poor idiot, I will.”
Shaking my head, I say, “I didn’t see him or I’d already have him down here. I got this.” Skating off, I turn, skating backward as I call back at him, “You know, ’cause this is a captain-type thing.”
Frayer laughs as he nods, but before I can turn to head toward the guy, a whistle is blown three times in a row.
Which means we hit the ice and jump back up.
Standing up, I look in the direction of the whistle to find Moss coming on the ice with a taller dude beside him. When he blows the whistle again, we all drop once more and get back up in record time. I’ve been doing this all summer, preparing myself for when Coach Moss wanted to release his evil whistle. When I first came to the team, I threw up four times during these drills.
It was great.
“Take a knee, boys,” he calls, and we skate toward him, dropping a knee. Jace comes up beside me and grins through his cage at me.
He’s as giddy as a virgin having sex for the first time.
Turning my attention back to Coach, he meets my gaze and nods at me. I nod back, and then I see the guy from earlier by the boards, looking down at his stick.
What the hell is he doing?
“All right, boys, no reason to beat around the bush: I’m done here,” Coach Moss says, and I have to hold in my laughter. Coach Moss is always to the point. “I got a job coaching the Wild, and since they pay way more than you street rats do and also, are better, I’ll see you guys later.”
We all know he’s joking around, but the guy standing by him looks a little taken aback until Coach starts to laugh, which means we get to laugh too. But when Coach Moss starts to talk again, we all clamp our mouths shut.
“No, really, I’m gonna miss it here. I’ve been a part of a great coaching staff, coached some of the greatest boys in the world, and even turned some of you into men. I’m proud to say I coached here and I’ll miss you guys, but I have to say, I’m leaving you in the best hands possible,” he says, turning to the guy beside him. He’s big, like my height big and I’m a big guy, but this dude makes me look small. He’s burly with big shoulders and huge arms, and when he smiles, he’s missing a few teeth.
Then I remember that Jude said he played for the Bruins, which makes a lot of sense once you look at him.
“Coach Moore is one of the winningest coaches, behind me, of course,” he says with a grin, and Coach Moore grins back. Aren’t they chummy?
“He has played for the Bruins, brought the Cup home. Has coached female and male Olympic teams for…nine years?”
“Yes, sir. Brought home the gold in seven of them,” he says, and a lot of the team is nodding. Hell, even I’m impressed by that.
“So yeah, y’all are in good hands and I’m done. See you guys on the flip side and hopefully in the NHL.”
With that, Coach walks toward the exit and we all tap our sticks to the ice. Coming to each of us, he taps us on the head and wishes us luck in a very fatherly way. He has been the only father figure some of us have ever had. He’s coached my family since we were kids. It’s sad to see him go.
When he comes to me, he hugs me tightly and says, “You go into the NHL, and I’ll scoop you up, got it?”
I grin as I back away and nod my head. “Yes, sir.”
“Good, now help this schmuck coach and make sure we don’t lose,” he says, tapping me on the head one last time. “And keep your boneheaded brother in line.”
Jace grins as we both nod. “Yes, sir.”
Sending me one last grin, Coach heads off the ice just as Coach Moore blows the whistle.
“He looks familiar. Do we know him?” Jace whispers to me, but I shake my head.
“Don’t think so,” I say with a shrug, but then I do start to look at him and maybe he does.
Where though?
“Maybe that’s the coach’s son? That’s the drama behind him?” Jace asks, and again I’m shrugging.
“I have no clue, but if I get in trouble because you keep talking to me, I’m gonna stuff your balls down your throat,” I warn in a whisper, causing him to glare as he presses his lips together.
“Okay, boys, as Coach Moss said, I know my hockey,” Coach Moore says, his voice booming and filling the rink. “I don’t fuck around. I win,” he says, letting that sink in and all of us start to nod. “I have studied all of your files. I know you by name; I know your game. I’ve watched tapes, and I can promise you, I know you. I’m ready to watch what you can do in front of my face, but more than that, I’m ready to see you impress me, like I know all of you want to do.”
Nodding, I meet his gaze and he grins.
Clearing his throat, he says, “But first, we need to address the elephant in the room.”
Elephant? What’s he talking about?
Then the dude who was standing by the boards is skating toward him and stops beside him, still not looking up.
“Is that his kid, you think?” Frayer whispers to me, but I shake my head.
“I have no clue.”
Leaning against his stick, Coach Moore doesn’t even look at the guy beside him as he looks at all of us. He then says, “My daughter has played since she was old enough to skate. She did that before she walked, by the way.”
“Oh fuck,” is all I can say.
“What?” Jace whispers as Frayer looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
But I can’t move.
“She has won more medals and cups than I know I have, and than most of you, since I’ve had a look at all of your files. The only person in this room who has more hardware than she does is Jayden Sinclair.”
My teammates all reach over, tapping me, but my eyes are trained on the person standing by coach.
Coach nods his head at me as he continues. “I know you are going for captain, eh?”
Oh, fuck me.
Clearing my throat, I nod, trying to find my voice. Finally, I say, “Yes, sir.”
“So is she,” he says, cocking his head to the person beside him.
The room falls silent, confused, but not me. I know exactly who that is, but still when she looks up, my jaw goes slack. She sucks in a deep breath, her shoulders moving with each inhale as she looks everywhere but at me. She then pulls her cage up before taking her helmet completely off and shaking her hair out, the long, blondish brown strands falling along her shoulders. Her lips are painted the bright red I’ve been dreaming about for months, and when her eyes settle on mine, I can’t breathe.
She’s here.
Baylor Moore is here.
But hold the fucking phone… She wants to be the captain of my team?
Jace is sputtering beside me. Frayer is gaping, along with most of the rest of the team, and all I can do is hold her gaze. She wants my team? Cold day in fucking hell. I’ve worked my ass off to get this team if Jude went into the draft and I didn’t. I hate the politics of getting everyone to respect you, but I did it. I worked hard alongside Jude to gain the respect I have from these dudes, and I refuse to allow all that hard work to be lost to her.
She may be hot, and she may be the only thing on my mind besides hockey, but she’s not getting my team.
“This is my daughter, Baylor Moore. When I told you she has more hardware than most of you, I know you are probably thinking that it’s in the women’s league, but it’s not. She’s played on male teams since she was fourteen,” Coach continues, and that’s when she looks away, sucking in a breath before she looks out past the group of guys that is now her team. But I keep watching her.
She is still as stunning as I remember, even though it was only two months ago. Hard to forget someone like her, and seeing her again has me in knots. Not only because she is gorgeous but because she thinks and assumes that she can come in here and take my team. The shitty thing is I know she can—she’s talented enough—but over my dead body. As much as I want to enjoy her rosy cheeks from the bite of cold from the ice, the glossed-up red on her lips, and the way she stands there like she owns the room, I know I can’t. But I do. I’ve been imagining her in full gear in front of me since the moment she laced up her skates. And seeing her now, I know my feeble imagination did her no justice.
She’s magnificent.
I remember when she told me she was born to play, and she wasn’t lying. She looks the part, perfectly. Her skates give her an extra few inches. Her shoulders are thick from her pads, along with her legs. She looks like someone who could mow you over with no problem, and when I remember how she tried to do it to me, I’m fighting back a grin. I don’t know about my teammates, but if I didn’t know her, have the taste of her lips still teasing mine, and also being a badass like I am, I’d be scared of her.