Page 9 of Puck Lust

“Look, Larson, I paid a lot of money for you to be here. I want you to be the star you are without taking glory away from any of the other guys. VK was a fan favorite in Washington, and him being here has our fans excited. People love him. They know he’s a good guy, a strong leader who always puts his team first. They’ve followed his career and they love that he’s part of Oakland now. You need to figure out how to work with him. I want you to show VK and the rest of the team that you’renot gonna pull that one-man show bullshit that you did in New York.”

He scrapes a hand down over his chin. “You wanna be a star? You need the team to work with you. That’s how you shine out here. And just to make my point, you’re gonna room together with VK for all our games on the road. The team needs to see you’ve both put whatever issues you may have had in the past.”

I almost choke on my next breath.

Is he fucking joking me?

Room together?

My mind trips back to the last time we shared a room together.

“I really don’t see how that’s?—”

Coach leans forward. “You don’t need to see it, Larson. I do. The team does. And my decision is final. Next week, you two will share a room when we fly out to Ohio. Nobody on my team gets special treatment. I’m paying you to play, period. I don’t owe you a damn thing other than a spot on my roster. Understand?”

I sit back in the chair, the hard metal pressing into my spine. “I guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Nope. You don’t. And if you want another ring, you’ll learn to accept my rules.”

I slowly rise out of the chair, eye to eye with Enver, my lips pulled tight.

He lifts an eyebrow. “Even gods can bleed, Larson.”

I stare at him for a long second before leaving his office, a deep ache assaulting my chest.

Enver thinks his words scare me.

But he has no idea how close to the truth he actually is with that statement.

FOUR

carter

“There he is!”

An excited voice jolts me from my thoughts just before I can push open the locker room doors. My head snaps up to find a young boy, probably about eight years old, jumping up and down in a pair of red, white, and blue Jordans, his cheeks flushed. He grins at me, pointing his finger. “It’s him! VK!”

A smile lifts my lips and all the bullshit plaguing me fades to the back of my mind.

Because this kid has just made my night and he doesn’t even know it.

I walk over to the kid and the guy with him, his dad, I’m guessing.

The kid’s mouth drops open as he stares at me, wide-eyed. Cute as hell with a smattering of freckles on his nose and a baseball cap that’s too big for his head.

“Look, I’m wearing your number,” he says, turning around and sliding his coat off his shoulders to show me. “You were always my favorite player, even when you were with Washington. I can’t believe I get to see you play here!”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” I drop to one knee in front of him. “What’s your name, bud?”

“Christopher,” he says, sneaking a gleeful look up at his dad.

“He was thrilled to find out you were coming to northern California. He’s followed you since he started watching hockey. We used to be Washington fans. Now it looks like we’re all about Oakland.” The man smiles and holds out a black Sharpie. “Would you mind signing Christopher’s hat?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” I say, taking the marker. Christopher pulls off the hat and hands it to me. I scribble my name along the bill and hand it back to him.

He stares at it for a long second before looking back to me. “This is the best night of my life. And don’t worry. I know you guys will win the next game. You’re gonna win the Stanley Cup, VK. You and Jack Larson together. There’s no way you can lose!”

“It’s always good to have big goals. We have a long season so it’ll mean putting a lot of hard work in.”

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