Page 69 of Off-Limits as Puck

“Hendrix!” Coach’s voice cracks like a whip. “My office. NOW.”

But I’m not looking at him. I’m looking through the glass to the elevated viewing area where Chelsea stands frozen, face white as the ice beneath my skates. Maddy’s beside her, phone pressed to her ear, already in crisis mode.

Our eyes meet across the distance. In hers, I see everything—terror, regret, apology, and underneath it all, the same desperate want that’s been killing us both. Then she turns and disappears, probably running like always.

“HENDRIX!”

I tear my gaze away, skating off the ice on legs that feel disconnected from my body. The walk to Coach’s office is a perp walk, every staff member staring, whispering, already choosing sides.

Patricia’s already there when I arrive, laptop open, damage assessment in progress. Coach slams the door hard enough to rattle the certificates on his wall.

“Tell me this is fake,” he says.

“Which part?”

“Don’t.” Patricia’s voice is sharp. “Do not play games right now.Is this photo real?”

I could lie. Could claim it’s doctored, taken out of context, anything but what it obviously is. But I’m tired of lies. Tired of pretending. Tired of everything except the truth.

“It’s real.”

“Jesus Christ.” Coach sinks into his chair. “How long?”

“Define ‘how long.’”

“Hendrix—”

“Two years ago. Vegas. Before she worked here. Then nothing until...” I pause, calculating how much truth to reveal. “Recently.”

“Recently,” Patricia repeats. “While she was your therapist. While you were in mandated treatment. While her father is your coach.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Coach’s control finally cracks. “The position you’ve put this team in? Her career? My reputation?”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because from where I’m sitting, you’ve destroyed a brilliant young woman’s career for—what? Because you couldn’t keep it in your pants?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what it’s like.” Patricia leans forward. “Help me understand why you’d risk everything—your career, hers, this team’s stability—for an affair.”

“It’s not an affair.” The words come out rough. “It’s...”

Everything. It’s everything.

“It’s complicated,” I finish weakly.

“Complicated.” Coach laughs, but it’s ugly. “You know what else is complicated? The lawsuit her father could file. The ethics investigation she’ll face. The media circus that’s about to descend.”

My phone buzzes. A text from a number I don’t recognize.

Unknown:This is just the beginning. More photos coming unless we can reach an arrangement.

“Shit.” I show them the message. “Someone’s trying to blackmail us.”

Patricia’s expression goes deadly. “Forward that to me immediately. Do not respond. Do not engage.” She types rapidly. “I need to coordinate with Maddy, legal, and PR. Coach, we need all players off social media immediately. No comments to press.”

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