Page 60 of The Coach

“Well,” he sighs, long and deep. “I can’t tell you how much I wish it had been you sitting across from me. How much I wish you could have been there instead of that woman, how much I wish that I could just tell the whole fucking world that you were mine.”

My eyes well with unnecessary tears. Or hell, maybe they are necessary. Maybe I need to cry out some of this frustration. “I—”

The words don’t come because I don’t have a solution. This isn’t like my brother’s issue, where he needs some help with his love life and school. I can’t solve this one, not yet.

He rolls, hovering over me halfway and stares into my eyes. “We have a few months.” He licks his lips, his brown hair falling over his eyes, it having grown a lot over the last couple of months. “A few more months, then I will meet your family properly, and we will move forward with the future we will have together.”

A new feeling swirls in the pit of my stomach, fear maybe, but something more. An anxious feeling for the future but a good kind of anxious.

“What is it?” Tanner asks, looking at my face and gauging that I’m having some serious thoughts.

“I just…” I take a deep breath, looking at this man above me who obviously loves me more than I could ever explain, who has taken to this secret relationship, to hiding this truth, so he could be with me. And vice versa, but it still takes courage for him to put his career on the line like this.

“What?” he asks softly, nudging my bottom lip lightly with his thumb.

“I love you,” I tell him in a whisper.

His eyes light and his smile lines make an appearance when he grins at me, his lips descend upon mine in a sweet and intimate kiss.

He pulls back, his eyes glowing with happiness, and I know that no matter what the future brings, I can hold on to this right here.

twenty-five

TANNER

Hockey practice was crap. The players have been pushing themselves hard over the last month, trying to get back to where we were before Christmas break.

The team wasn’t working cohesively and usually, it only took one bad apple to rot the whole bunch.

That bad apple happened to be the brother of the woman I was madly in love with.

Lincoln was unfocused, sloppy, and temperamental. A pretty bad fucking combination.

After practice was over, I told him to stay put. He was sitting on the bench. I was standing in the middle of the rink, skates on and glaring at him.

“Ellis,” I call over to him, and he looks up. I gave him a ten-minute break, hoping that it would cool his temper after his almost fight with Crew Thatcher. I had thought those two were best friends, but after what I just saw, it appears I was mistaken.

Lincoln makes his way over to me, his eyes dark and bruised from lack of sleep, and I take him in. Mick never told me what they talked about, and I never asked, mostly because I was more focused on us than on her little brother.

She was right, though, something was wrong.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Coach,” he replies immediately, his eyes staying respectfully locked with mine.

“Nothing, huh? Is that why you’re picking fights with your teammates?”

I see his jaw flex. “Thatcher was out of line.”

“Out of line with what?”

“All due respect, it has nothing to do with hockey, Coach.”

I nod for a moment, pretending to be understanding when I say, “If a fight breaks out on my rink, it has to do with hockey. You picked a fight during practice, so you made it my problem.”

He swallows and glances away, shuffling a bladed foot against the ice. “I’m just going through something.”

“Tell me,” I demand, folding my arms over my chest.

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