Page 10 of The Coach

Though Ellis is the hype man, he’s also the captain and respects the coaching staff. He raises his hands, and the team looks to him. Crew Thatcher follows his lead and gets the guys calmed down so I can speak.

“Well,” I start, crossing my arms over my chest and keeping a stern look on my face. “That was a hell of a game.”

Some cheers ring out, followed by some “Yes, sirs,” and I smirk a little.

“However, one game is nothing. One game is half a step toward our ultimate goal.” I continue, watching them take in my words solemnly. “We worked hard, but that may have only just been enough to pull out a win. I know you want to celebrate, and I encourage you to do so—responsibly.”

I look at Connor Bedford, who blushes and looks down. I know he’s one of my most respectful team members, but from what I’ve heard, he parties harder than any of the team.

“But remember, we have practice tomorrow and an away game the day after that. So get some rest! Because I’m not going easy on you because you won a game.”

They clap and yell, “Yes, Coach!”

I walk over to one of my players and check on him. He got checked in to the board more than a few times. I confer with the doctor and send him on his way to get iced up before making the rounds, checking in on all my players. Some may say that’s not my job, but I’m not here to do the bare minimum. I’m here to take this team all the way, and that means keeping an eye on their physical and mental wellbeing.

I leave them to it and head into my office with the other coaches, hoping for our post-game meeting to go quickly. I glance at the watch on my wrist and rub at my forehead. I want to get out there and find her.

I know I shouldn’t want to. But I need answers.

If I slept with one of my player’s girlfriends, I’m going to be sick.

The rest of the coaching staff was eager to get home, so I’m able to sneak out into the players’ tunnel before everyone left for the night.

I spot her right away, my heart thumping loudly in my ears at the sight of her there.

I’d woken up alone the other day, never remembering being by myself feeling so… quiet. For one night, this amazing woman had given me a piece of myself back I didn’t know existed anymore.

I laughed again. I played. We joked and teased and had—or I had—the most amazing night of my life. And that was before the sex.

Not every woman likes sex the way I do. Not everyone loves to explore and have fun with it. Most prefer to just keep things simple. Sometimes simple is nice.

But most of the time, I like to push boundaries.

Mick didn’t mind that in the least. She had been open with me. She’d let me take care of her and put trust in me I hadn’t experienced before.

I walk along the wall of the tunnel, trying to keep from getting recognized, though it’s difficult. I pulled a hat on and shucked my suit jacket before leaving my office, though I should have changed out of the suit completely.

Thankfully, she catches my eye. I tilt my head for her to follow. She nods, whispering something to the blonde beside her, slowly making her way over, her Ellis jersey twisting in her hands in front of her.

The team is still showering, giving her time to get to me before Ellis emerges. My gut churns when she gets closer. My fingers twitch with the need to reach out and grab her. I shove one hand in my pocket, my other rubbing at the five o’clock shadow on my jaw. I turn and lead her to a door.

I haven’t been here long enough to find the good hiding spots, but when I open the door, I see a janitor's closet and step in.

Mick closes the door behind her and spins, placing her back against the door. I stand back, away from her so I don’t do anything stupid like grab her head and pull her lips to mine and, accidentally on purpose, make out with one of my player’s girls.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, clearing my throat when I realize I’m growling.

She swallows. “I’m here for the hockey, of course. If you learned anything about me, it’s that I’m a fan.”

My teeth clench. She glances to the side before looking back at me. “Ellis, huh?”

Mick’s brows furrow, and she glances down at the jersey on her chest. “Um, yes.”

I bite my lip and drop my hands. My impulses are too hard to ignore, and I take two big steps forward, crowding her. I’m so close I can hear her breath hitch, can feel the tension between us pull taut. My fingers itch to reach out and interlock with hers.

I place a hand on the door above her head and say, “Are you with one of my players, Mick?”

---