Page 42 of Breaking the Pucking Rules (LA Vipers #1)

CASEY

M y hands tremble as I lace up my skates, ready to hit the ice for my first coaching session.

I mean, I’m not expecting to actually do much coaching tonight. I’m just here to see how it all works before I take over.

“Casey, it’s good to see you again,” Megan, the head coach, says, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Have you met Nancy before?” she asks, gesturing to the woman beside her.

“No, we haven’t,” I say, offering her a smile.

“Okay, before we start, I thought we could have a quick run-through of the team,” Megan explains. “From what you said in your interview, it seems you already have some experience watching them.”

My cheeks burn just like when I confessed to my Sunday morning guilty pleasure of hiding in the shadows, watching them.

“Knowing their numbers and chosen positions is only half the job, though. I don’t know who the girls are really, and that is just as important.”

She smiles at me, and I instantly relax.

This is where I’m meant to be.

I’m inside the arena that I love, helping girls play the sport that has shaped my entire life.

I breathe a sigh of relief and listen as Megan talks through each girl on her roster.

Only ten minutes later, the sound of little girls’ chatter hits my ears, and I look up just in time to see the first members of the team walk toward us with their parents trailing behind, mostly with heavy bags.

“Good afternoon,” Megan calls. “Get yourselves ready—I’ve got someone to introduce you to.”

Every set of eyes turns to me. I’m not surprised; I’m the obvious new addition.

More girls arrive and get their skates on with the help of their parents. But as I scan the group, I can’t help but notice Sutton’s absence.

She should be here. She was on Megan’s list. And from the way Megan spoke about her, I’d say it’s highly likely that she’s this team’s MVP.

“Okay,” Megan says, glancing around, mentally doing a head count.

Her eyes collide with Nancy’s, and an unspoken question floats between them.

Kodie only left this morning. He’ll be beside himself if something has happened.

Discreetly, I check my cell. Not that I really think he’d call me if there was an issue.

I’m no one. Just the off-limits woman he’s fucking behind everyone’s backs.

“Before we hit the ice this afternoon, I want to introduce you to?—”

“I’m so sorry,” Kodie’s mom calls as she and Sutton come running toward us.

“No problem. Come and join us,” Megan says softly as a frantic Kathleen pulls skates from the bag over her shoulder and drops to her knees.

“It’s okay, Gran. Go and sort the car out. I’ve got this,” Sutton says, taking control of the situation.

“Goodness,” Kathleen sighs as she drops onto the bench beside her granddaughter.

It takes everything in me not to walk over and give her a hug. I remember all too well how hard it was when Dad used to go for away games. Especially a stretch as long as this one. And for it to be at the beginning of the season as well? It’s tough, even for the veterans.

Sutton pauses what she’s doing, drops her laces, and turns to her gran. “It’s okay, Gran. We made it safely. That’s all that matters. You can go.”

Oh, my heart.

Kathleen studies her granddaughter for a moment before hopping back up, kissing her cheek, and rushing away again.

My legs move without instruction from my brain, and in less than three seconds, I’m on my knees before Sutton, reaching for her laces.

“Let me help you with that, sweetie,” I say softly.

She turns to look at me. I’m sure she's about to tell me that she can do it herself—which I don’t doubt—but her stubbornness falters when her eyes land on my face.

“Hey,” I say with a smile that’s at odds with the guilt twisting me up inside.

I still haven’t told Kodie about this.

I should have. I know I should have. But I’m terrified that it’ll just give him yet another reason to end this thing between us.

“Hi,” she says, her eyes bouncing between mine as she figures this out. “You’re our new coach, aren’t you?”

My smile grows.

Fuck. I love having that title.

Coach.

“I am. Is that okay?”

Her eyes light up, and I relax a little. “Okay? That’s more than okay. Your dad is amazing.”

I chuckle.

So is yours, sweetie. So is yours.

“Well, let’s hope I’m good too, huh?”

“You’ll do great,” she assures me as I finish up her skates and stand.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to your new assistant coach, Casey Watson,” Megan says, turning all attention to me again.

“Just like you guys, Casey started playing hockey from a very young age, and she won numerous leagues and competitions over the years. You might also recognize her as the daughter of the Vipers head coach, James Watson.”

All the girls stare at me with wide, excited eyes.

God, I really hope I’m good at this and can give them the guidance they deserve.

“Hey, everyone,” I say, waving awkwardly. “I’m so excited to be working with you. I can’t wait to get on the ice and see what you’ve got.”

They all smile and say hello as Megan takes the register and the parents either get settled in to watch the hour session or excuse themselves to run errands.

“Come on then, my little bears,” Megan says as she opens the gate and lets them flood onto the ice.

I’m frozen for a moment, struck by a million childhood memories.

I lived for this time on the ice. It was my favorite time of the week. The only thing that topped it was when Dad and I hit the ice together. I fucking loved that. He’d show me everything he knew, helping me work on skills I was struggling with.

Finally, I force my legs to move, and I follow them out. But the second my skate hits the ice, regret slams into me.

I shouldn’t have quit when I did.

Playing hockey was my life, and for a while after Mom died, it was my lifeline. But as I got older and the rebellious teenager that lived inside me stood up, my focus turned to other places.

I wanted to hang out with friends, party, and drink.

I wanted to drown the memories of the past. Of Mom taking me to practice and sitting on the sidelines at every single one of my games.

I didn’t want to feel the heart-wrenching loss when I stepped off the ice after a defeat and she wasn’t there to hug me and tell me I did great.

Everywhere I looked, there was this huge black gaping hole in my life.

It wasn’t so bad when I was with friends, doing things I never did with her.

“Right, ladies. Warm-up drills,” Megan announces, and off they go. They’re like little rockets, so confident and strong. All I can do is stand there in the middle of them, grinning like a fool.

“ H ow’d it go?” Parker asks as I drop into the chair opposite her and accept the Cosmopolitan she slides toward me.

“Amazing,” I say, barely able to contain my grin.

“I knew you’d smash it.”

I take a sip of my drink and reflect on the evening’s events.

“The girls are incredible. Coach Megan is awesome as well. It was weird, though, being a part of a girls’ team after everything.”

For a while after giving up, I didn’t even skate. I couldn’t; it was too painful.

But eventually, my need to be on the ice came back. I never played again, though. The closest I’ve got to the game is supporting Dad and the Vipers.

“She’d be so proud of you,” Parker says quietly.

Emotion burns the back of my throat, making my nose itch.

I know she would. Even if she’d be disappointed I quit.

“I felt her with me,” I confess.

Parker reaches across the table and takes my hand in hers, squeezing in support.

I know it sounds weird, and I’m not sure anyone who hasn’t lost someone close to them would understand.

“I kept looking around as if she was watching. It was…comforting. Like she was approving.”

“Of course she approves,” she says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I blow out a breath and drain my cocktail.

I shouldn't. I haven’t eaten yet. But I need something to take the edge off.

Tonight was…unexpected in a lot of ways. But at the same time, it felt so right.

And now, we sit here surrounded by Vipers fans waiting for the game to start.

I wanted to go home and watch it in peace, but Parker refused to allow that.

She knew I’d most likely be sulking over the fact I can’t be there in person—and she’d be correct—so she insisted we come to our favorite sports bar and watch with everyone else.

“How was Sutton?” Parker asks.

“Her usual Sutton-self,” I say with a laugh. “She’s so?—”

“Much like Kodie?” Parker finishes for me.

“Well, yeah. The confidence of that girl. I pray she never loses it.”

“She might just stand a chance, with the right coach.”

“She knew who I was straight off the bat,” I confess, anxiety twisting my stomach.

“Of course she did. You’re a fucking legend, Coach Watson.”

Ripping my eyes from her, I stare down at the empty glass before me.

“Do you think she’s told him already?”

Parker shifts to look at the TV on the wall opposite. I do the same just in time for the Vipers to be announced.

Fletch bursts onto the ice, quickly followed by Linc and…Kodie.

My eyes lock on him, watching as he skates a lap while the Vipers fans in the crowd shout and scream.

“Nah, she’s a good kid. She’ll know not to give Kodie mind-blowing news before a game.”

“She wouldn’t know it’s mind-blowing, though, would she?”

I watch as our defense gets into position and Handsy drags his stick along the crease, marking his territory.

“I guess not,” I muse as a server comes over with a tray loaded with food.

Chicken wings, fries, and onion rings are lowered to our table before Parker orders more cocktails.

The puck drops, and a loud roar erupts around us as Fletch takes possession and skates off with a defenseman hot on his heels.

Focusing, I allow myself to get lost in the game as I devour way too many carbs and far too much alcohol for a work night. Thank God for Uber.

I stumble through my front door a few hours and far too many cocktails later, my throat raw from shouting and screaming. The guys played a fucking fantastic game, and Handsy provided us with our first shutout of the season. Fucking epic for game one. Long may it continue.

I grab a bottle of water as I continue toward my bedroom. I need to down this and curl up in bed if I stand any chance of getting to work on time and not being hungover in the morning.

But there’s something I need to do before I pass out.

I toe off my sneakers and strip out of my leggings before stepping in front of my full-length mirror.

Turning my back to it, I drag my hair over my shoulder so the name across the back is on full show.

Then, I pull up the hem of my jersey, twisting the excess fabric in my hand until it’s pulled tightly around my waist, showing off my Vipers-green panties.

Opening the camera on my cell, I arch my back and look over my shoulder, directly into the camera, before snapping the picture.

Without overthinking it, I send it to the newest addiction to my contacts, a little thrill shooting through me the second I see it’s delivered.

Time to celebrate, baby.