Page 54 of My Pucked Up Enemy

My chest tightens. "Noted."

He glances at his watch. "Meeting in ten with the analytics team. You good?"

"Yeah," I say, standing. "Thanks, Coach."

"Nina?"

I pause at the door.

"You’ve got one hell of a poker face," he says. "But you’re not fooling me."

I manage a smile. "Damn. I was hoping to be the next Vegas champ."

He chuckles. "Get out of here."

As I leave his office, my mind races with everything we didn’t say out loud. I’ve spent years helping athletes find clarity.

Now it’s my turn to figure out where I stand, and whether the boundaries I drew are protecting me, or keeping me from something real.

Whatever happens next... it’s time to own it.

Chapter sixteen

Alex

"Moveyourfeet,Henderson!This isn't a Sunday skate!" Coach Stephens barks from center ice, his whistle slicing through the rink like a sniper shot.

James huffs past me, gliding into a transition drill that looks more like a drunken figure-eight than a power turn. "This is cruel and unusual punishment! Where’s the Players’ Union when you need ‘em?"

"Try moving your feetfaster, and maybe you won’t need a union rep," I call back, smirking.

I feel good this morning. Not just physically, though my legs are fresh and my glove hand’s sharp…but mentally. Clear. Locked in. Nina’s reset from yesterday worked. Whatever flipped back on, I’ve got my edge again.

Coach blows the whistle twice and waves us in. We circle around him, sweat steaming off our gear in clouds.

"Good start. Now we crank it. Odd-man rushes. Two-on-ones. And we’re doing it full-speed. No coasting, no guessing. Read. React. Execute. Got it?"

A rumble of affirmatives echoes around the ice.

Then he turns toward the bench. "Doc, you’re up."

Heads swivel.

Nina steps onto the ice like she’s been doing it her whole life, clipboard tucked under one arm, laces neatly tied. No helmet—just confidence. The kind that wraps around you without needing to raise its voice.

"We’re layering in mental triggers," she says, her voice steady but loud enough to carry. "You’ll run the drills as Coach outlined. But I’m calling out single words during each rep. Your job is to link that word to your movement. No overthinking. Just feel it."

James raises a glove. "Is this some Jedi mind trick?"

"If it works, I’ll expect a lightsaber by Monday," she deadpans.

A few guys laugh. Even Coach cracks a grin. But as soon as the next whistle blows, it’s all business.

The drill starts.

"Reset!" Nina calls.

I shift instantly. My brain snaps to attention, syncing with the rhythm of my blades against the ice. Reset. Let go of the last play. Eyes forward.

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