Page 80 of Behind the Bench

And the crowd—well, the locker room crowd—goes wild.

Literally.

The guys all jump up, screaming and cheering for the incredible woman beside me. Hunter and I join in on the excitement by clapping as loud as we can. Someone, somewhere in the room, starts chanting, “Ell-ie! Ell-ie!” and it's not too long before the walls are shaking with the pounding and chanting happening inside the room.

Ellie takes a step forward and takes the belt from Jefferson and they exchange a high five.

A chorus of “Speech! Speech!” breaks out within the room. Ellie looks over to us, absolutely mortified, but Hunter and I just laugh and join in on the heckling.

She walks to the center of the room, appearing to be lost in thought. Looking down at the belt in her hands, she finally finds her voice.

“There aren’t words in the English dictionary that can truly express how grateful I am for each and every one of you in this room. Even you, Jefferson.”

The small jab gets a good laugh out of the group before she continues.

“My entire life I’ve been doubted. I still am. I used to question if I really had what it takes to make it onto a bench in the NHL. But here, in this room, and standing behind that bench with all of you in front of me, I know I’m exactly where I should be. So thanks for this. But you guys make it easy to do this job. Next stop, New York!”

Ellie turns to make her way back to us but not before Jefferson hollers out to her. “Put it on, Coach!”

Instead of being mortified like she was before the speech, Ellie owns the moment. She takes a few steps back to the center of the locker room and lifts the belt in the air. The guys absolutely lose it and start the “Ellie” chant again. She fastens the belt around her waist and the guys jump out of their stalls and bombard her in a group hug as they jump up and down chanting her name.

Somehow, Ellie manages to escape, beaming ear to ear with a smile that could light up the night sky. She rushes for the door to make her exit and we follow behind. Hunter is grabbed by our PR person to do the postgame interview, and Ellie turns to make her way to the training rooms. Before she can get too far, I grab her by the elbow to stop her.

“When you come over tonight bring the belt.”

I let go of her arm and turn and walk away before she can say a word. Just as I’m about to head into the media room to watch Hunter’s interview, I look over my shoulder and see Ellie standing frozen where I left her. Her mouth is agape and she’s staring after me.

With one hand on the door handle, I shoot her a wink and slink into the media room.

Tonight should be fun.

I’ve just poured two glasses of wine when I hear a small knock on my door. The excitement that rises in me rivals the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. Even though I knew she was coming, the fact that I get to spend the next few hours naked with Ellie has my body buzzing.

I open the door and there’s an angel standing on my porch. With my lamp post lit up behind her, Ellie is illuminated as if she’s just walked through the gates of heaven. Her hair is down now, opposite of the high ponytail she always wears on the bench, and she’s wearing a long red trench coat with red heels. My mouth dries and I am thirsty for everything that is Ellie Montgomery.

“You gonna stand here all night staring or are you gonna let me in?”

I can’t wait to shut that smart mouth up.

My eyes trail up and down her one more time, just to make her wait a bit longer, and then I’m moving aside so she can come in.

Instead of hanging her coat on the rack, she leaves it on and makes her way into the kitchen.

Interesting.

She picks up a glass of red wine and takes a slow slip. I’m mesmerized by her throat as she swallows the burgundy liquid down. Images of my cock replacing the wine immediately play in my mind, and I’m two seconds away from ripping that coat off her myself.

I make my way to her, with every intention of skipping the wine and heading straight to my bedroom. Ellie puts one finger up, halting my movements, and takes another sip of wine before setting it down on the table.

With one hand on her hip and the other twirling her hair around one finger, she makes her way toward me. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Coach Scott?”

What the fuck is she talking about?

My instincts kick in and I’m convinced I’m about to be in trouble. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but my feet start walking backward to the living room. Fight or flight is a real thing and apparently my body is telling me to run.

Trying to save myself, I answer her question with the first thing that comes to mind. “Um, you looking fucking beautiful tonight?”

A wicked smile stretches across her face and I know that that’s not the right answer.

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