Page 100 of Cross-Checked

That was different. The team kind of insisted I come out to celebrate my award nomination.

I try not to think about how everything would be so much easier if that award wasn’t a thing.Two more weeks, at the most. You can do it,I tell myself.

Audrey

It’s Marissa’s birthday. Maybe you can come out for one drink to celebrate?

AJ

Shit. I wish you’d told me that before I sat next to her for half the game!

How did I not know? I’m so good about things like that. Except lately, my free time has been spent with McCabe, not planning out ways to make sure my players and families know I care about them. I wonder if they’ve noticed the difference.

Jules

You could just come tell her happy birthday in person

AJ

Well now I feel like I have to!

Jules

Yes!!! My work here is done. Here’s where we’re going . . .

A link appears on my screen, taking me to the map app that shows a bar only a few blocks away from the arena.

The elevator doors open, butby the time I make it down through the tunnel and to the ice, our players are heading out of the box and toward the locker room. Sweat drips off them as they carry their sticks, and I congratulate each and every one of them as they pass, giving fist bumps and high fives to the guys who offer them up first.

McCabe is the last one out of the box—the captain who refuses to leave anyone behind. When his head snaps up and he sees me standing there, his pupils dilate until his bright eyes are practically black. The look of hunger on his face has butterflies swooshing through my belly.

“AJ.” My name is a low growl leaving his lips as he nods his head at me. I’m sure he’s trying to sound professional, buthis gravelly voice scrapes along my skin until I’m certain I’m wearing my desire all over my face.

When he steps past me, Charlie Wilcott is right behind him. And his confused expression tells me he didn’t miss the way I was looking at his star player.

“Congrats on the win, Coach.” I fake a lightness I don’t feel now that my heart is pounding, wondering what he might think about that look he just saw.

“Thanks.” Charlie’s words are gruffer than normal.

“I saw that Evangeline and her partner came in third at that competition in Europe last week.” I fall into step next to him, trying to distract him by talking about one of his favorite topics: his daughter, who is a pairs figure skater gunning for a second Olympic appearance.

“Sure did,” he says, his face lighting up.

“That Olympic run is looking more and more likely.”

“Yeah, she was disappointed that the other US pair competing ranked higher than them, though,” he tells me. “She said she wasn’t feeling quite right, and changed a double to a single in their routine, which lost them some points. She seems tired, and I worry that the constant travel and competition are taking a toll. I’m glad she’ll be home for a bit this summer before next season’s competitions start back up.”

I know exactly what he means. “I think we can all use the break,” I say. “But first, congrats, Coach. The Stanley Cup Finals...you don’t getthereevery year.”

“Sure don’t,” he says, lifting his chin. “Congrats to you, too. Wouldn’t be in this position if it weren’t for you.”

“It’s a true team effort.” I hate how cheesy it sounds, but it’s true. This team, and the year we’ve had, wouldn’t have been possible if everyone wasn’t giving their all.

I skip the locker room because I don’t trust myself to see McCabe with no clothes on. Funny how I’ve never had a problemstanding in a locker room full of mostly naked men, until now, when one of them is mine.

My heart skips a beat at that word.Mine. But he is, isn’t he? Just like I’m his.

And I really like this for us.

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