Page 75 of No Pucks

“I’ll make it worth your while.” He wears a smug look, and I’m not sure if I should be hard or terrified.

“How?”

“However I see fit.” He stands, making any other words unnecessary. “And you know how angry it will make your dad.”

I smirk. “You’re mean for starting this now when I have to go to dinner with the team.”

“Waiting is good for you.” Whatever Anthony was when I met him, he’s more now. He has grown and refilled the empty parts of himself.

I love watching it. I love being a part of it.

“What was that about?” Ridgeway asks when I get back to my stall. I’ve learned to tell them apart mostly. While they are identical, they have little things and mannerisms. Colt, the center, is the one who talks to me most often.

I’m behind the rest of the team, so I talk while stripping. “My father is trying to get on staff, and Coach wanted to ask me about it.”

Savage grimaces. “Is he serious?”

“Coach is getting all kinds of calls from people telling him to hire my dad.”

“I thought he just left managing New York. Why would he want a demotion?” Wolfe, who rarely gets involved in our conversations, asks.

“He got himself fired,” I say, knowing the kind of bomb I’m dropping. The story that had been fed to the sports news was an amicable parting of ways so my dad could explore other opportunities, which everyone thought meant he was accepting something hush hush.

“What?!” a couple of guys ask.

“Him and my mom split, and my grandfather wasn’t keen on keeping him around.”

“And how do you feel about it?”

“He’s a shit coach.” I have to play this carefully. I don’t want any of them thinking my dad will somehow be an asset, nor do I want them digging into the reasons Anthony doesn’t like him. That’s his secret, and it’s much easier to open up about my disdain, since a few of the guys already know about it. “I’ve dealt with that enough. I don’t need it in college.”

“No shit,” Savage adds. “I wouldn’t want my old man coming on to coach either.”

We get more agreement.

“Sounds like hell, even if they are players,” Wolfe adds. “No one needs their parents micromanaging their business.”

Archangel steps in as the other de facto leader of the team. “So we need to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I’d prefer that.” I shrug, not trying to make it a big deal but obviously wanting the team on my side. Grandfather will helpkeep Dad off the team, but if the guys don’t want him, it helps the team present a united front. “Hawke is a better coach anyway.”

I get agreements from them.

“I’m going to shower. Where are we going tonight?” I ask, hoping they give me some time to sneak back into Anthony’s office before I go.

“We’re all going to Wolfe’s tonight,” Archangel says. “Team dinner, and he’s got a surprise for us.”

“Someone shoot me his address?” I hang my pants to dry out.

“I’ll wait for you,” Savage says, and I notice he isn’t dressed. “I’m going to soak in the hot tub for a bit to try and loosen up my muscles. Conditioning has been brutal.”

“Cool.”

This team loves to do dinners, so most of us actually shower at the facility, which isn’t bad. The Gods went all out when they designed this place. It’s decked out with individual stalls, and they keep it pristine. I glance at Anthony’s office. I need to text him, but evidence of this thing isn’t smart, so I don’t dare. We’ve made it work because we spend so much time together anyway, and he usually knows where I am, as he knows where the entire team is, and nights I’m not with them, I’m at his place.

But something tells me Wolfe plans to keep us late with this surprise, and I have no way of telling Anthony that.

Savage puts on shorts and tells me to come find him when I’m done.

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