Page 10 of Accidentally Checked By My Brother's Best Friend

“James.” I look up to see Coach waving me into his office, and I groan. The last time I was ‘talked’ to by my captain and coach, I was in grade school. I grab my sports bottle, take a swig, and head to Coach’s office.

“Coach?” Standing in the doorway, I wait for instruction.

“Come in and sit. Close the door behind you,” he says, looking at a piece of paper before him.

Clenching my jaw, I do as he asks, sitting in the chair across from his desk. Still not looking up at me, my stomach knots, and I feel my fist grip my hockey stick.

When he’s done writing, he puts his pen down and flips his gaze to me. I see the same look that Viper gave me earlier. “Want to talk to me about what’s going on?”

My lips draw into a thin line. I’m reining in the urge to snap at everyone asking me what’s wrong. Ava is wrong, and no one can fix it.

Instead, I take a deep breath, run my hand through my hair, and say evasively. “Everything’s fine. I’ve just had a few rough days.”

“We all have rough days,” he says, leaning forward on his desk as if trying to figure out what I’m not telling him. “But when it starts affecting my players’ game, I must address it. We have high expectations for you…”

He trails off mid-sentence, leans his elbows on his desk, and rests his chin on his entwined hands, pinning me with his gaze.

Feeling like a teenager, I work so as not to squirm in my seat.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” His eyes soften and I feel the knot in my stomach loosen.

One of the reasons I was happy to be traded to the Wolverines was their entire organization, especially the coaching staff. To them, you’re a person first and a player second. But having this concern directed at me is making my insides twitch. I’m used to handling things alone.

Ava is throwing me off, and it’s affecting my game. Who am I kidding? It’s affecting everything, and now it’s affecting my game, which means my team.

I nod and swallow hard. “Yes. There’s just nothing to talk about.”

His gaze nails me one last time before he responds. “Okay.” From his tone, I have no doubt he knows I’m not being honest with him or myself.

Standing up, I turn toward the door, but his next words stop me dead in my tracks. Sucker punching me. “If that’s the case, I’ll need to go by your game play. If this keeps up, I may need to bench you.”

Not turning back to face him, I close my eyes and nod, letting him know I heard what he said. It’s fair. I get paid to do my job, and my job is to keep the net empty. If I can’t do that, I deserve to be benched.

Opening the door, I walk to my locker, getting my gear in order. I adjust my pads and pull on my gloves.

Coach walks to the exit, and the team gets up to follow. It’s time to do what we get paid for.

All I have to do is find a way to have tunnel vision, protect the net, and keep the other team from scoring. Lastly, I need to push Ava as far from my mind as possible for the next sixty minutes.

If possible, longer.

Enteringthethirdperiod,it’s a tie game. The match has been a real barnburner—lots of back and forth and fast play. Division games are always challenging, but the Blackhawks are last year’s division champs, and they’re giving us a run for our money.

Overall, I’m doing what needs to be done, but Ty Matthews, the Blackhawks’ center, is the third-top scorer in the NHL. The fact that the score is tied is a testament to the talent of both teams.

A whistle blows as the Blackhawks call a timeout right before a commercial break. When the Kiss Cam music starts playing, Coach calls us to the bench.

Coach’s voice is barely audible over the fans oohing, ahhing, or clapping when someone gets caught on the Jumbotron. Pretty routine for this activity. When the oohs and ahhs shift to loud murmuring, I can’t help but glance up at the screen.

Staring back at me is Ava. She has always been breathtaking, and tonight is no different. Seeing her bright smile as she waves to the crowd, my breath catches. My heart starts to race, and a heat spreads throughout my body.

“James!” I whip my gaze to coach only to find brows furrowed. “Are you good? We need you for the next ten minutes.”

“I’m good, Coach.” He stares at me briefly before sending the team back on the ice.

“Ava Norris is in the crowd! Think she’ll stop by the locker room after the game?” Pretty Boy Wallace asks as he skates past me into position. The glare I give him makes him smirk. “Think I found what Denier’s problem is.”

“She’s my brother’s wife’s sister,” I growl at him.

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