Page 43 of Behind the Bench

Wait…he did?

I wasn’t focused on Lincoln during that press conference, besides him interrupting me, and have spared myself by not rewatching or even listening to that damn thing since. But allof a sudden, I have an urge to see what my dad is talking about.

We finish up our conversation about the press conference and spend the next few minutes catching up.

“Don’t be a stranger, baby girl. I don’t like going so long without hearing your voice.”

The sincerity in his voice has me choking back tears. I’m grateful Sadie is here with me, but I still miss my parents tremendously.

“I won’t, Dad. I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

As soon as the call disconnects, I’m searching for a video of the press conference.

I turn my phone sideways so I can enlarge the video. The camera alternates from close ups to a zoomed out shot of all three of us up at the table. While Roger is speaking, Lincoln’s face morphs. His dark, menacing glare toward the reporter is dangerous and thrilling. His disgust is evident when he thumps the table, causing my pulse to flutter faster.

I’d been so concerned about him interrupting me, I hadn’t paid attention. I wasn’t able to gauge his expression, his tone, or his impassioned defense of me. But watching it now, I’m not exactly sure how to feel. I’m flustered, overwhelmed, and confused. There’s something in his tight expression and mannerisms that has me looking at him completely differently. And I’m not sure what to do about it. It’s new and intriguing, but mostly confounding because I was so sure we hated each other.

Now, I’m not so sure. Especially when I factor in the fact that we almost kissed. I thought perhaps he had done it to take my mind off of everything. A diversion tactic. But now, looking at this video, I’m not confident that’s all it was.

The video cuts to me hurrying away from the table. The cameraman zooms in on Lincoln staring after me. The anguish and longing on his face is palpable. In my entirethirty-one years on this earth, I’ve never seen a man look at me like that. And then he’s gone, sprinting after me.

Holy shit.

Lincoln Scott chases me. He pulls a Matthew McConaughey andchasesmeout of the media room like a man on a damn mission.

I rewind the video and watch the scene play out over and over. I must’ve watched it a dozen times when my phone begins buzzing again in my hand. The name on the screen has me screeching and abandoning ship.

And by ship, I mean my phone…that I launch in the air.

By some miracle, I’m able to catch my phone before it lands on the floor. I stare at the screen and my pulse begins racing.

Because the name on the screen staring back at me is none other than the man who is confusing the hell out of me.

I’m not sure what possesses me to call Ellie on our day off. And I sure as hell don’t know what possesses me to tell her I need to meet with her at the arena in a half hour.

Okay, so maybe I have a tiny idea why I’m acting like a crazy person.

Ellie has barely made eye contact with me over the past two weeks and it’s driving me insane. I mean, of course she can barely look at me. I’m the dick who almost kissed her days after Grayson was fired for being inappropriate. He gets fired for harassment and creating a hostile work environment, and now I’m over here trying tokissher.

I’d be fired if anyone caught wind of that. And I sure as hell would be fired if they knew I wrap my hand around my cock every damn day in the shower, with thoughts of Ellie running through my mind.

Wait, can people actually get fired forthinkinginappropriate thoughts? If so, I’m fucking toast.

I didn’t see anything about it in the HR policies I reviewed when I got home that night, but you never know. I also didn’t see anything forbidding workplace relationships. There were a few guidelines for the players, but I skimmed over that becauseit didn’t pertain to me. Nothing in there about coaches. That’s probably because before this year, the only women working for the Bobcats were media personnel or concession stand workers. Which is totally fucked up, but that’s neither here nor there right now. Because there will never be any type of physical relationship between me and Ellie.

We need to get back to the job at hand. And that’s leading our team to the playoffs. We can’t do that if we are barely able to be in the same room together. Hell, nothing even happened. Can you imagine how much worse it would be if we actually had kissed?

God, I am such an idiot.

This job comes first. This team comes first. And I almost blew everything because I was thinking with the wrong head for a minute. I can’t let that happen again. I need to fix this.

It’s why I was so desperate and called Ellie asking her to meet me at the rink. We need to squash whatever awkward tension is happening between us, because against all odds we’re a damn good coaching team and we have the potential to make our hockey team playoff contenders again.

I make my way into my office and busy myself with straightening up my practice plans and notes. I glance over at the clock for probably the eighth time since getting here five minutes ago. Ellie should be here any second, and for whatever reason I’m a nervous wreck.

Ellie and I have a complicated history as it is. The last thing we need is to complicate things more because of a physical attraction. That has to be all this is. We’ve hated each other’s guts our entire lives. But now that we’re working together in such close quarters, spending over fifty hours a week together, and even traveling together, it’s impossible not to notice how beautiful Ellie is. Everything about her is damn mesmerizing. From her icy blue eyes, to her luscious lips, to her sexy hockey sense and determination, the woman is a dream.

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