Page 22 of Coach's Temptation

The smell of wet pine and asphalt fill my lungs as I breathe deep from the ridge where Logan's house sits in the hills.

Down below, the streetlights catch in the curtain of rain, turning each drop into falling stars. Tires splash through puddles, and the distant buzz of the Ridgeview floats up the hill. Wind whips through the trees, and I pull my coat around my shoulders.

The porch door whines open behind me. Blake slides up next to me, hands disappearing into his hoodie pockets.

We watch the rain paint rivers down the street. Then Blake lets out a slow breath.

"Shit night to clear your head, Coach."

I grunt. Maybe if I stare into the rain long enough, I'll forget the way Natalie looked at me across the training room this morning.

Blake rocks on his heels. "So... you wanna tell me what the hell that was back there?"

"Nothing." My jaw clenches so tight it hurts.

A laugh escapes him. He tips his head back, letting the rain hit his face. The gesture screams 'bullshit' louder than words ever could.

"Look, I get it. Pressure's high. Vancouver's coming and once that first game hits, we've gotta be all in. But Coach, with all due respect, you looked ready to body slam Walsh back in there."

I rub a hand over my face, letting the rain cool my skin. The droplets trickle down my neck, under my collar.

"This is the biggest series of our damn careers, Blake."

"I know." His voice is quiet, steady. The same tone he uses before big games.

"Then I need you to do your job."

Blake's brows lift, he shifts just a fraction, his stance becoming more official. "Excuse me?"

I turn to face him, serious as hell. My knee aches from the dampness, just like it always fucking does in the rain. It natures reminder of everything I've lost and gained in this sport.

"Keep their heads in the game. Keep their eyes on the prize. And for the love of Christ—" I exhale sharply, shaking my head. "Keep them off the damn staff."

Just saying it flares that sense of longing again.

Blake goes still. "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to them. Make sure they're locked in."

The rain drums against the porch roof. Thunder rumbles in the distance. Blake shifts his weight, and I look to find a question desperately falling from his lips.

"So I assume that includes you too, Coach? Eyes on the prize, right?"

My cheeks puff out a breath and I shake my head, my gaze drawn to the dark, rain-slicked road that leads to the apartment I wish I was at right now. To her.

"Yes. And me. We need no distractions, Maddox. Not for any of us."

Chapter Six

Natalie

There are a lot of sounds I expect to wake up to in my shitty apartment.

The clang of the ancient radiator coughing to life in the freezing cold of a perfect Iron Ridge morning. The hum of my Grandma's fridge struggling to keep up with modern technology. There's also the occasional creak of my upstairs neighbor, Mr. Kowalski, rearranging his furniture at the crack of dawn like he’s competing in an Olympic sport no one else knows about.

What I donotexpect is the drip, drip, drip of water.

Inside my apartment.

I burrow deeper into my pillow, trying to ignore whatever's happening. Maybe if I just pretend everything's fine, it'll go away. That's a solid life strategy, right?

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