Page 16 of Lucky Laces

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I just go back inside, get my skates on, pick up my new stick from the equipment guys, and head out to the ice, hoping that the team will have gone over the drills I sent, that they’ll have focused and prepped, and done their fucking jobs.

Rome and Cam have.

So have King and Rhodes.

Pat and Duncan and Kane are their typical lost causes.

But it’s Hudson that hurts.

I’ve been giving him a lot of time and space to get adjusted to the changes I implemented.I know that it’s not easy for everyone to just jump into a new system, especially after the previous coaching staff did such a shitty job of looking after the guys.

It’s just…

It’s been weeks now.

Months if we’re talking about the extra on-ice sessions I held and the preseason games and practices.

Months where he’s been not on board.

And…

I’m done.

With men fucking around with things that are important to me.

With them not listening.

With them taking advantage.

I’m just fuckingdone.

Exhaling, I lift my glove, blow my whistle.“That’s good on my end, boys,” I call, and they start to scatter, some staying on the ice to work on individual skills, but most heading to the locker room to change.

But I don’t immediately turn and get the fuck out of here like I want to.

Instead, I deal with the other thing I’ve been putting off.

“Hudson!”

His gray eyes come to mine.

“My office.Now.”

Six

Hudson

I’m fucked,I realize as I sit in the chair in front of Coach’s desk and stare up at the tiny spitfire of a woman.

I didn’t come directly to her office—or I did, but it was to get the okay to shower and change first.So now it’s after taking my time doing that, after lingering in the locker room as the other guys headed out, waiting until the hallways became clear of support staff and players alike.

Until it was just me.

And Coach.

She wouldn’t go home, not without speaking to me.

And I kept her waiting.

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