Page 16 of Pucked Up

I slammed the door, startling myself with the noise, then sighed and grabbed my bag as I hurried toward the side entrance. I wasn’t exactly avoiding Tucker, but I was notnotavoiding him either. He and the other alternate captain, Ford Bell, were loyal toward Boden to a degree I’d never understood. Not even in my marriage.

I would have done anything for Reid, but in my head, there had always been lines, and he’d felt the same way.

It was kind of a wonder, watching the way those three players loved each other. It was a bond that nothing would be able to break.

Which was one of the myriad reasons I would not be pursuing Boden. The list was endless and began with the fact that I was his coach and ended with the fact that I’d been trying to save him embarrassment by not giving away the fact that we’d had sex, and now I was pretty sure he thought I didn’t remember him.

That was something I was going to have toremedy. I was going to have to remedy a lot, actually. Boden had very clearly decided the way to solve the problem of me coaching was burning the team to the ground. And as much as I appreciated his fire, I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.

I was not an incompetent coach. I knew the game inside and out. Hell, I’d helped Reid design the fucking league, for Christ’s sake. We took the existing rules, studied them front to back, and then applied them to a professional league setting. I might not have understood what it was like to live in their bodies, but I knew how to play the fucking game.

He was not going to make me look like a fool. If he wanted to set himself on fire, he could burn alone.

I did feel a little ridiculous sneaking through the hall though. I could hear Tucker’s voice as he instructed his student, and it was kind of a surprise. He was a smart-mouthed little fucker on the ice and in pregame, so hearing him sound…maybe not soft, but kinder, was a nice change.

I pressed myself against the wall and peered around the corner to see him on the ice, guiding a kid around in circles with the bottom of a long hockey stick. The kid was laughing as Tucker spun him in a wide circle.

Leaning over the rink, very clearly trying to show off a low-cut blouse, was a woman with salon-red hair.

“It’s always so fuckin’ awkward when women try to flash him their tits when they forget he can’t see them.”

I jumped and smacked my temple against the wall, turning with a tight smile to see Ford staring at me with a quirked brow. “I wasn’t, ah?—”

“Spying?”

“Avoiding him,” I blurted, because for five seconds, that sounded better than being accused of player espionage. And then my face heated. “I, euh…I mean…”

Ford burst into laughter and grabbed my shoulder, giving me a gentle shake. It was obvious he was the mediator of their little trio. “Breathe, dude. And unclench the butthole. Tucker has no idea you’re here, nor would he care if he did.”

That…well, it stung a little. I hated that I wanted to be liked by these guys, and I hated that Boden was campaigning against me. But now that Ford was here, I realized it was time to implement one of my plans.

I was not above psychological warfare.

“Would you come with me to my office?”

“You know, your accent actually kind of does sound like Bodie’s.”

I flushed. I’d been a massive snob when I first moved to Montreal. I told myself they weren’trealFrench, after all. It was American French. And then I’d gone and fallen in love with the people and the city and our life there, and I regretted what a dick I’d been.

After Reid’s accident, I’d not only mourned our old life together, but I also mourned the home we’d built. I’d grown accustomed to the idea of trades andhaving to pack up and move anytime the league decided they wanted to shake things up, but we’d gotten comfortable there.

We’d bought an apartment, had a fish tank, and had talked about getting a cat.

Then it all went to hell one flu season, and it was all over.

“I lived in Montreal for several years,” I said as we headed down the hall.

“Oh, damn. Do you know Bodie and his family?”

I tried to hide the guilt on my face. I’d never met him before the night at the bar. I’d only met Arnaud briefly before. But I’d heard about them both plenty. I just hadn’t connected the dots when the gorgeous man was gasping and begging beneath me.

“Not everyone who lives there knows each other. You know it has a population of?—”

“Yeah, yeah, what? Like six billion people?” Ford said as he breezed past me and plopped into the seat across from my desk.

I choked on a cough. “That’s not entirely accurate.”

“Million, billion, whatever. Same-same, right?”

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