Page 166 of Skate the Line

Ally.

My phone slips through my fingers and crashes to the floor. I catch the eye of Rhodes and Ellie both staring at me from the living room.

I play it off well and dip down to retrieve it.

Before standing upright again, I exhale and get my bearings together.

Not many people call me Ally, and if it’s him, there’s no way I’m texting back to let him know he has the correct number.

I quickly block the number.

There.

At least one problem is solved.

I brush away my nerves and busy myself in the kitchen.

I woke up this morning full of giddiness because of Rhodes, but now, I’m full of dread, which is probably just the wake-up call that I needed.

Forty-Eight

RHODES

“Volkova!”A line of guilt slams into me like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be.

I can thank fucking my hot little nanny for that.

Might as well get it out of our systems…

That came from me. I was the one to say that line of total bullshit. I lured her onto my bed and stripped her bare in an attempt to scratch an itch that Iknewwould only get worse. Now, I’m on edge.

“Yeah, Coach?” I stand, half-dressed for the game. I’ve been here since we watched films this morning, catching a ride with Malaki since I gave Sunny permission to drive my truck.

“Get in here for a sec.”

I catch the eye of Malaki while walking toward Coach’s office. He shrugs, and I turn away because, either way, whatever Coach has to say, I’ll keep to myself, despite my closer friendship with some of my teammates.

“Close the door.”

Now I’m intrigued.

I make sure the door latches and sit in the chair at the foot of his desk.

It takes me a second to realize that this is the first time I haven’t immediately tensed with dread at him pulling me aside. My first question is always,Is everything okay with Ellie?But lately, I haven’t had the notion to even think that.

I know she’s okay if she’s with Sunny.

“As team captain and someone who has been on this team long enough to see players come and go, I want your opinion.”

I remain expressionless and stay silent.

“I’m thinking of bringing in some help.”

I lean forward. “Some help? Like some more players for the reserve?”

Coach shakes his head. He leans back and starts to chew on the end of an ink pen. “A skills coach.” He pauses and lets me digest this. “We’re good this year. Our points are stacking, and we’re slotted for the wild card for the first time in a long time.”

This makes sense.

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