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I make my way across the parking lot with only one thought on my mind.

I finally did it.

Head coach of the Green Bay Bobcats.

I’m a fucking head coach in the NHL.

It wasn’t an easy road to get here.

I had to work harder than most kids growing up to get to where I am.

Hell, there were some games I was running on pure adrenaline and the shitty cafeteria lunch I had earlier that day because dinner was a rarity in my house.

But that’s a sob story for a different day.

I am here.

I did this.

I got a college scholarship, I worked my ass off and got drafted my junior year, and I didn’t let a knee injury keep me down when it ended my professional playing career.

I may not be able to play anymore, but I am a damn good coach.

I worked my way up through the ranks and, after two years coaching as an assistant in the league, I finally get my shot.

At thirty-one, I’m the youngest head coach in NHL history.

Nothing is going to stop me now.

Pushing the doors open to the arena, I head to ice level.

Is there anything better than a fresh sheet of ice?

The answer is absolutely not.

I walk onto the bench, drop my duffel, and take a moment to look around.

Most people are disgusted by the smell of hockey and all that comes with it, but there’s nothing better than the smell of fresh ice.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and drink it all in.

Everything I’ve been working toward is here for the taking.

Just a kid from a broken home who refused to let anything keep him down.

This is my time.

I glance at my watch and realize there’s still an hour until my meeting with our GM, Jerry.

That’s more than enough time to get in a quick skate to try and simmer these nerves that are running through my body.

Knee injury aside, being on the ice is still my favorite place to be.

There’s something almost therapeutic every time I step onto the ice.

It’s where I feel most like myself.

It’s always been my safe space.

Leaning over, I unzip my bag and grab my skates.

I quickly lace them up and grab my stick from the stick holder next to the bench.

I arrived in Green Bay a few days ago to get a head start on acclimating myself with the facilities.

My gear is already in the coaches’ room, and I’ve already met the maintenance crew.

They hooked me up with some pucks and gave me my code to the locker rooms, weight room, and various other rooms I’ll need access to.

The rink is absolutely magnificent.

It was built only five years ago, so everything still feels pretty new.

State-of-the-art equipment lines the weight room walls, and the training facilities even come with multiple hot and cold tubs.

But my favorite part?

The bench itself.

iPads are embedded in the floor where the coaches stand so we can review plays and penalties ourselves, without having to call up to the staff who watch from the press boxes.

There’s also a few iPads loose and handy so we can look up close and decide when we want to challenge a call or penalty.

It’s absolutely amazing how far things have come in this league .

Stepping onto the ice, I immediately feel a sense of peace.

With my stick in my hand and an empty rink, I lose myself in my strides.

As I continue to skate laps around the rink, I think of all the things I have to look forward to—meeting the rest of my staff, the players, working together to make this team great again.

I can feel myself pushing a little too hard, my knee beginning to protest, so I ease up on skating laps and grab a puck from the bench.

The feel of the puck on my stick as I stickhandle down the ice is as soothing as a crackling fire on a winter’s day.

After I take a few shots and release my pent up energy, I step off the ice and make my way into the coaches’ room to prepare for my meeting with Jerry.

I can’t help but wonder who I’ll be meeting today.

Things have been kept quiet in the news ever since the scandal that rocked the Bobcats’ organization.

No names have been announced as to who has been hired, so I’m excited to see who will be behind the bench with me.

My hair is still damp from my shower, but I’m dressed in my favorite charcoal suit, ready for my meeting.

I head to the elevator and take it up to the second floor.

Once I step off, I take a left to the conference room where Jerry told me to meet him.

I’m hoping I’m not the only one meeting him here today.

I can’t wait to meet my colleagues.

Everything happened so fast with the entire staff having to be replaced.

We’ve got our work cut out for us this year, that’s for damn sure.

But I’m ready and excited to hit the ground running.

That is until I turn the corner and see who’s standing with Jerry in the conference room.

Ellie fucking Montgomery.

What the hell is she doing here?

Does she work for the team?

Is she the social media manager?

PR?

Why is she here with my GM on my first day of work?

And why can’t I stop staring at her ?

She’s everything I remember and more.

Dressed head to toe in a navy suit, she looks extremely professional and ready to get to work.

With barely any skin visible, the suit only accentuates her long legs, the curves of her hips, and muscular thighs and behind.

Her sunshine blonde hair is pulled back into a slick ponytail, long and luscious.

Her icy blue eyes are zeroed in on me, narrowed and haughty.

I’m sure she’s just as shocked as I am.

Below her eyes are the same spattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

Her cheekbones are more defined than I remember, giving her the untouchable supermodel look.

Growing up she was the one person I wanted to be better than.

She had it all.

The perfect house.

The perfect family.

The perfect dad.

Even her stride on the ice was perfect.

I wish I could say everything had been handed to her on a silver platter—and I’d deny ever saying it—but she worked damn hard, ten times harder than some of the guys we used to play with.

It was my shitty luck I was stuck with the family I had, just as it had been her luck to get the loving family she had.

But something about Ellie just rubbed me the wrong way.

I wanted to hate her and her perfect life.

I even convinced myself she was nothing more than a spoiled nepo princess with a Hall of Famer father pulling all the strings for her.

I had been so damn jealous as a kid.

And it seems I may still be harboring some resentment as an adult.

Sure, she was nice to look at.

Hell, she still is.

She’s fucking gorgeous.

Tall, lithe, and toned, she could give any Victoria’s Secret model a run for their money.

But it was more than that.

There was something else.

She had this light about her.

Always smiling at other people.

Laughing, joking, her blue eyes bright with happiness, like life was one big amusement to her.

Except when it came to me.

Then she was all glares, tension, and sniping.

Her smiles weren’t reserved for me.

Only her best put downs .

As a kid, I didn’t hide my dislike toward her.

Actually, I usually let her know exactly how I was feeling any time I saw her.

I guess you could say we were childhood rivals.

And I guess you could also say I haven’t quite grown out of it yet.

I shake my head once to try to clear my thoughts and take a step into the room.

I clear my throat.

“Good morning.”

Jerry turns to me, and I’m positive I look like a deer in headlights because I’m still not sure what I’m looking at.

“Lincoln! Welcome! Come on in and meet one of your assistant coaches.”

What the fuck did he just say?

As I make my way across the room toward Jerry, I look over to Ellie who is standing a few feet away and her eyes are shooting daggers at me.

I narrow mine in return, and the corner of her mouth tilts upward, revealing a smirk that makes my blood run cold.

I shift uncomfortably on my feet and stick my hands in the pockets of my pants to hide the nervous energy coursing through me.

There is no way this is happening.

Of all the people they interviewed for this job, they had to choose Ellie Montgomery?

But of course they did.

Ellie seemed to have every opportunity under the sun thrown her way.

Apparently, that includes the assistant coach position on my team.

I’m sure her Hall of Fame father had something to do with it.

What should be the best day of my life is quickly turning into a nightmare.

How the hell am I supposed to run this team with that woman next to me on the bench?

And why is she looking at me with that evil, little smirk on her face?

I’m fucked.

After our meeting with Jerry and giving Ellie a quick arena tour, he shows Ellie where her office is and then walks me to mine.

“Ellie has been doing a hell of a job in Denver according to the head coach there. He told me himself he would’ve had her as his assistant if there was a job available for her. I think you two are exactly what this franchise needs to turn things around.”

Jerry looks at me, waiting for some type of response.

“Yes, sir. She’s done a hell of a job in Denver. From what I hear.”

I didn’t hear anything.

I know everything there is to know.

I’ve been following Ellie’s hockey career my entire life.

From college, to the Olympics.

From the pros, to her coaching career.

Every new achievement, while extremely impressive, pissed me off more and fueled my fire.

I had to be one step ahead of her.

I had to prove I was better than her.

I deserved it more.

And look at me now.

I’m the head coach and she’s my assistant.

Jerry stops and points to the office on our right.

It’s completely empty besides an L-shaped desk with a black leather chair behind it.

There’s a large window behind the desk with a view of the parking lot.

It’s not picturesque by any means but it’s perfect, because it’s mine.

“This one’s yours, Coach. Before I go, let me just say, I interviewed a lot of people for this position. I believe your drive and dedication is what will make a difference here. That and the fact that you’ve shown incredible leadership your entire career.”

Well, damn, it’s nice to hear that once in a while.

“Ellie is going to face a firing squad in the papers as a female assistant coach in the league. She’s only the second woman to ever stand on the bench of a NHL team. I’m trusting you to stand by me on this and have her back through it all. I know you grew up playing against each other in Detroit. You may have been rivals your entire childhood, but you’re a team now. You think you can handle that?”

Do I think I can handle bossing Ellie around the rink and on the ice?

Yeah, that won’t be a problem.

I’ve been waiting my entire life to show her who’s boss.

Do I think we can play nice and work together to turn this team around?

Not a chance in hell.

But I guess we’ll have to try.

My career depends on it.

And there’s no way I’m letting Ellie Montgomery take that away from me.