by Teagan Kade
The drill was simple: You skated down to the end of your lane, hard stop, skate back and keep on going. Soon the only sounds you could hear were the sharp scccchick every time someone turned to start back in their lane.
I’d practiced this very drill over and over in all conditions and at all speeds. I knew my limits, but half an hour in and my muscles were already burning, my breathing far more labored than I expected. My head wasn’t helping either. It still felt like one of those big stone heads from Easter Island. I pressed on all the same. I wasn’t going to be defeated here. I couldn’t be.
I took a moment to look across the lanes, but everyone was still going.
Slowly, around the forty-minute mark, Eric was the first to be booted by Scott for dropping intensity. He headed back to the bench to join Cormac, who never competed in the first place.
At the fifty-minute mark it was just Jensen, Liam and me side by side by side going hard.
I peeked another glance and noticed Jensen was in big trouble. He was breathing hard, his turns sloppy. I knew he was on the verge. Liam, on the other hand, appeared as strong as ever.
Another five minutes and Jensen skated out before Scott kicked him out. He skated over and crouched beside my lane struggling to get his breath back. He kept his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear, waiting until I passed him before speaking. “I’ll admit it, Walsh. You’re fucking hardcore.”
“Thanks,” I got out, flying by.
The next time I passed he was standing up. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Water under the bridge,” I replied breathlessly, wanting to gloat, but knowing it was best to keep that quietly tucked away to myself.
“Good luck.” Jensen smiled before skating back to the others, leaving just Liam and me.
An hour and a half and Liam was still showing no signs of strain. I was starting to panic until I saw Cormac give me a nod — just one, but it said a thousand words. It said ‘Do not fucking stop.’
An hour and forty-five was already a personal best for me, but it would all be for naught if Liam won. My calves and thighs were on fire, my head beating along like a bongo drum, but I couldn’t let the pace drop, not even for a second. I gritted my teeth and kept going, and that’s when I noticed Liam almost lose his balance with an overly sharp turn. It was a small mistake, but it told me he was starting to feel the burn.
God, I wanted to quit so bad. The bench looked so appealing right about now.
Just ten more minutes, I tried to tell myself. Hit that and we’ll reevaluate.
But I didn’t need ten.
I only needed five before Liam came to a stop, his hands on his knees. “I’m fucking out,” he panted, slowly skating over to the bench with his tail between his legs.
I’d done it.
My head was killing me and my body had been pushed beyond its earthly limits, but I had done it.
I skated off on a victory lap, Cormac cheering and whooping from the barrier.
All I really wanted to do was slump onto the ice and sleep forever, but I managed to keep my composure coming off the ice, Scott standing there with a wry smile of his own.
Once again, I stood before the boys. “So,” I said, “can we all agree to get along now, or should I walk?”
And I was doubly surprised when Liam was the first to agree. “You’re okay, Walsh. You’re o-fucking-kay.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SCOTT
THREE WEEKS LATER
I looked out the window of my office to the rink. Rae was skating there with the others, the team a far more cohesive unit since her skate-off three weeks ago. The boys had finally accepted her as one of their own, even Liam. I heard they even gave her a customary Kraken welcome, AKA the ol’ ice bucket over the head.
I watched her, and for the first time in weeks truly felt the distance between us. The same day as the skate-off I received the news, from Wanda of all people, a hotel room had been sourced. Rae moved out that very night. I couldn’t exactly hold her hostage or try to convince the higher powers otherwise. I was confident Wanda was behind it all. Still, she had kept her trap shut, but I had a feeling pushing the envelope would unseal it.
So, I had to take it on the chin. And that small amount of distance allowed us the thinking space we needed to start seeing things logically again, that perhaps it was better this way. It was hard not going over to her new place, trying to get into her bed, or pants, but I’d resisted — as tenuous as my control seemed to be. I’d close my eyes at night and see her there, those sweet curves I’d come to know so well. I didn’t think blue balls were a thing, but now I knew. I’d wake up and my dick was literally throbbing for her. Even so, the strange professional-or-private dance continued between us, neither one of us willing to make a move.
It was the first game of the season tonight and already the arena was starting to fill with fresh-eyed fans keen to jump aboard the newest franchise in the game. By all reports it was going to be a packed house.
I gave a start when there was a knock at my door. I rocked forward in my chair and did my best to suppress my burgeoning erection. “Come in.”
It was Allie, dressed to impress and looking particularly gleeful. I was pretty sure that had something to do with the tablet in her hand showing real-time ticket sales. “Coach,” she began. “Hello.”
I waved her in. “Going to be hell of a crowd tonight, they say.”
“It’s going to be a hell of an opportunity,” she beamed. “For you, for the team, for Rae Walsh.”
I grimaced. “I don’t know if we should really be singling her out.”
Allie threw her head back. “Are you serious, Scott?” She pointed out the window. “You don’t think these fans have come to see you, do you? No offense, but it’s Rae they’ve come to see. Haven’t you seen all the PR work Wanda’s been putting in?”
I hadn’t, actually, too preoccupied with getting the team up to speed and working as a collective whole.
Allie pointed directly at Rae. “That novelty out there is our golden egg.”
“She’s not a novelty,” I snapped. “She’s an integral part of the team.”
Allie looked a little taken aback, lifting her hands in surrender but none too happy about it. “Alright, sorry.” She checked her watch. “I’ll see you out there.”
“Likewise,” I replied, still simmering under the surface.
The door closed and I had to stand and pace. So that’s what they thought, that Rae was a PR stunt and no more. Had they even seen her on the ice?
“No,” I said aloud, looking out to the rink. I wasn’t going to let her become a ‘novelty’ and nothing more.
Fuck that.
Regardless of what was happening between us, or not, she deserved a chance, and the respect a player of her caliber had earned. She’d show them alright. I was sure of it. I’d make sure of it.
Half an hour to game time and I slung on my Kraken jacket and headed to the player’s box. People whispered as I passed, the odd kid running up for an autograph. I smiled and shook hands feeling for all the world like a politician. I was almost thankful to be locked away in the team.
“Shit! There he is! Scott fucking Bausch!”
I looked around to see two guys in brand new Kraken gear complete with the delightfully kitsch Kraken cap with its eight rubber legs. They’d been drinking no doubt, another three or four beers lined up ready to go, and they were right behind the glass.
Fucking great.
I gave them a small wave and they saluted in return, elbowing each other in excitement.
I looked around, surveying the crowed and breathing in that intoxicating mix of wet ice and energy — something I hadn’t been privy to in quite a while. It was nice to be back, even if I was on the other side of the fence, so to speak.
As predicted, the place was completely packed. I don’t think I could see a single seat, just a sea of green and purple.
I did my best to talk to each player individually before a
ddressing them as a team. It was odd. I felt like the team was playing as a unit now, that we really had a shot at this thing, but I myself felt like a rookie about to piss his pants before the Big Night. Maybe it was the air of expectation in the crowd, the weight of the position, but I was feeling something alright.
Clearly, Dumb and Dumber behind me hadn’t been following the news. They spotted Rae. “Is that a fucking girl, Bausch?” one of them shouted. “You hitting up the Playboy mansion for players now?”
They had a grand old laugh at that. Thankfully, Rae didn’t hear them, too busy strategizing with Cormac and Liam.
I scanned around quickly and noticed quite a few sets of eyes on Rae, people whispering and pointing. I expected that, naturally, but what I didn’t expect was people so eager to consider her inferior simply because she had a pair of boobs and a vagina. Hell, it was probably an advantage not having a dick trying to map out your every thought and move.
The preliminary buzzer went and players started to enter the ice. We were up against the Maple Leafs tonight, third on the leaderboard last I checked and a hell of a team. We’d have to pull out all stops if we wanted any kind of chance of taking them down.
I noticed a few of the Leafs skating around Rae. They’d be trying to put her off her game. One of them said something and Cormac jetted forward only to be held back by Liam. I don’t imagine they were complimenting her Sudoku skills.
I watched as Rae skated down to goal and set up, slapping her pads with the stick and tilting her head from side to side. Under all that gear you’d hardly know she was a female at all.
Jensen headed to center, the buzzer went, and it was on.
The Leafs came out hard, but we expected that. Less than thirty seconds in and a killer slapshot managed to sneak past Rae.
A jeer went up from the crowd. Rae slapped her helmet with her stick and scooped up the puck, sending it back.
This time we managed to get an edge, Jensen high-tailing it down the right and trying to drop one in from the rear, but he wasn’t quick enough and the Leafs’ defense was too strong for that kind of play.
The puck was fired back down to the danger zone. Cormac was there, but the Leaf player managed to evade him with a shower of ice, turning three-sixty and completely open as he headed towards Rae.
“Come on,” I said. “Come on.”
The shot was brutal, high, but Rae managed to deflect it with her stick, the puck spiraling away into the glass.
“That’s better, girly,” Dumber shouted behind me.
It was a tight game. We were up and then we were down, the Leafs always on our ass.
Half-time and I huddled with the team in the dressing room.
Rae took off her helmet looking flustered, her cheeks red and rosy — not unlike after she’d come.
I banished the thought and started my spiel. “So far, so good, but we’re going to need a rabbit and a hat if we’re going to bring this home. You do want to bring this home, don’t you, start this thing right?”
“Yes, Coach!” came the thunderous reply.
I concentrated. “Alright. Get the fuck out there.”
I pulled Rae aside before she could leave. “You’re doing well out there.”
She shook her head. “I’ve let how many slip now? Three? They were easy saves. The crowd knows it. You’ve seen the way they’ve been reacting.”
It was true the crowd had turned on her somewhat in the last twenty minutes. They were easy saves. We weren’t likely to pull ahead unless Rae started to perform.
I took her by the shoulders and looked hard into her eyes. “You’re not going to let another puck past, you hear me? Whatever it takes.”
She nodded in response, repeating, “Whatever it takes.”
“Good.” I simply patted her on the shoulder, resisting the urge to slap her on the ass on her way out.
If the Leafs came out hard in the first half, they were basically unhinged in the second. One of their forwards hit Liam so hard he was lifted clear off his feet, slamming into the glass with such force the resulting sound boomed across the arena.
Liam went down and called for medical attention.
I dropped to his side when the medics brought him over. “Knee?”
He nodded, clearly in pain. “But fuck it. Put me back out there to settle the score.”
“No,” I said, “I’ll put Brody in. I can’t have you out for the season when that thing gets dislocated for good.”
I sent Brody out knowing full well he was nowhere near as strong offensively as Liam.
It would all be down to Rae.
The first challenge came quickly, the Leafs coming at her fast in a vee formation, shuffling the puck between them — a goalkeeper’s worst nightmare.
The puck blasted off, but Rae dropped a knee and blocked it, a lightning move almost too fast to comprehend. A cheer went up from the crowd for the first time in a long time.
The puck back in play, Jensen managed to sneak in a goal, evening up the score.
Another two saves and the crowd was starting to get behind Rae, the energy increasing. Even Dumb and Dumber had started to cheer her on.
Suddenly, a Leaf broke away from the far end of the rink and blitzed his way down to Rae, lining her up for a slapshot.
I knew this was certain disaster. The player in question never missed. He sent the puck sailing and Rae leapt into action — literally diving and deflecting the puck back-handedly, completely blind.
I’d never seen anything like it.
The crowd went wild, whooping and hollering, Dumb and Dumber hugging each other, Dumber turning around, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Rae!” he started to chant. “Rae, Rae…”
Others started to join in. “Rae, Rae, Rae!”
Soon half the stadium was chanting, a wall of noise.
People started to stomp their feet in time. “Rae! Rae! Rae!”
I couldn’t help smiling.
Five minutes.
We could do this.
I shouted and screamed, calling for Jensen to get his ass into gear and score.
He came through, fighting off four defensemen to fire the puck right through the Leaf goalie’s legs.
The crowd exploded again. We were up, but there was still sixty seconds to go. Everyone was on their feet.
The Leafs had snatched possession, the clock counting down.
Twenty.
Nineteen.
They managed to dodge Cormac and then Jensen, Rae the last line of defense. She was up against three of their best. They fanned out and made ready, the puck whipping between their sticks in a blur.
Shit, I thought.
“Rae! Rae! Rae!” started the chant.
I shouted along. “Rae! Rae! Rae!”
One of the Leafs suddenly cut hard right, flanking her.
It was a decoy.
He fired the puck behind him, Rae’s left side dangerously open.
It was over.
The Leaf with the puck fired hard.
In what was one of the best displays of athleticism I had ever seen, Rae managed to shuttle her entire body sideways and kick off, the puck collecting the very tip of her skate and ricocheting off the top of the goal.
It took a few seconds for the crowd to comprehend what had happened, the clock counting down to three, two, one…
And then the place went wild.
We’d done it.
Rae had done it.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SCOTT
The celebration had been running at full capacity in the dressing room.
Jensen held a bottle of champagne — where it came from I had no idea. He let it rip over a semi-naked Liam who was subsequently tweaking his nipples for some equally unknown reason.
‘Wild’ wouldn’t have done it justice at all.
“Boys,” I scoffed to Rae beside me.
“Something like that,” she laughed.
“You say something over there, Coach?” Jensen must have hea
rd me, because he’d turned a new bottle in my direction, preparing to fire.
I was still in my suit. “If you like the idea of a hundred shuttle runs to kick off our next training session, be my guest.”
Jensen considered this for a second, looking around at the others. It was pin-drop silent… before the prick decided to do it anyway.
There was no escaping. The others came to hold me in place while Jensen drenched me, and Rae by association, in fresh champagne.
I played along. Hell, they deserved this.
Rae slid a finger into her mouth. “You spared no expense, Jensen.”
I don’t know why but seeing her do that got me insta-hard.
“You two going to join us at the club?” Jensen asked, the champagne starting to dribble out.
I shook my head. “Not on a school night, sorry.”
Jensen placed the now-empty bottle down. “Rae already said she’s coming, right?”
Rae was caught. “I did…”
I caught her gaze and was about to switch when I spotted the way some of the others were watching on. I couldn’t be too careful, trying to downplay my interest by avoiding eye contact with Rae.
I smiled at Cormac, slapping him on the shoulder. “Not tonight, sorry. You boys win next game and I won’t just come, I’ll pay for the first round.”
That was distraction enough, all of them whooping and hollering around the room.
I hoped I was being circumspect enough. It was hard to gauge.
I was taking it all in when I noticed Rae had gone.
Cormac caught my eye. “Down the hall,” he winked.
I gave him a nod of appreciation and made my way down the dark access hall that led to the back of the stadium and where Rae had been pigeon-holed.
“Rae?” I stood out the front of the dressing room-cum-closet-cum-Harry Potter hidey hole that had been set up for what was now one of our star players. The fact she was forced to dress down here in this tiny space made me sick.
Rae emerged with a towel wrapped around her, clearly about to hit the shower — singular. There was no lock on the door. She had to move a bar wedged under the doorknob to let me in.
I stepped into the space, no bigger than an en suite, and looked around. The door went to close but bounced back off the hinge, semi-open. “I’m going to make sure something’s done about this, mark my words.”