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16

Luke

“ Y ou wanted to see me?” I ask Alice, poking my head into her office. She’s hunched over her desk watching something on her phone intently. Probably game footage.

In the last few weeks, we’ve won four games and lost two. Not the best, not the worst. Jenna’s got a lot of work to put in with the defense. Some of the shots getting past Lennon aren’t her fault.

“Yes, come in!” Alice calls out cheerfully and takes off her glasses. She sets them on her cluttered desk. “Got any fun plans this weekend?”

“If getting takeout and staring into the abyss sounds fun, then yes,” I deadpan and Alice laughs. “No, not really. You?”

“My sister has a booth at the indoor craft market in City Hall on Saturday, so I’m going to go show my support. I already have a houseful of knitted stuffed animals lying around, but what’s a few more?”

I scratch the back of my neck. “Sounds fun.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she scolds playfully. “Now, I just wanted to check in and see how things are going with Lennon and Grace.”

I settle back into the chair and throw my foot over my knee. “Grace is a solid backup,” I say. She’s only played in two games so far this season and we won one, lost one. “She’s consistent in practice, and I’ve been working on her coming out of the crease more to keep the puck in play and gaining that confidence.”

Alice nods and jots a note down on a yellow pad.

“But as you know, I’m just working with her during the time allotted in practice, so I don’t have much more to say on her.” What I don’t tell Alice is that I often forget about Grace. In the past few weeks, she’s made me jump more than once when she asks a question because my focus is solely on Lennon. I should feel bad, but I don’t.

“Grace is a good kid. Enjoys the sport, listens well, and is a good teammate. But she’s not looking at this as anything but a sport for her to play over her four years at school and then leaving the pads behind.”

I nod. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Not at all. Good work, keep on her in practice. She’ll likely be starting next year after Lennon graduates, so it’s good to be working with her already. Now, how about Lennon? I think your extra conditioning with her has been paying off.”

“It has,” I say, pride swelling. “Her stamina is better, and by the third, she’s starting to look as fresh as in the first.”

“She’s been doing well. Do you think she finally has her head in the game again?”

“I don’t think she ever didn’t,” I say, surprised at the defensiveness in my tone. “But she’s putting a lot of pressure on herself after last year’s loss.”

Alice purses her lips as deep lines marr her forehead. “I was worried about that. The team took the loss hard, but Lennon…she blamed herself.”

“When the team wins, it’s a team effort. When a team loses, it’s the goalie’s fault.”

Alice rolls her eyes. “Spoken like a goalie.”

I hold my hands up in defense. “That’s not a denial.”

“Hush. Now, fill me in on her.”

Excitement bubbles in my chest as I tell Alice about Lennon’s progress, and I relish in it. Maybe at the beginning I didn’t want to put in extra work, extra hours, with her, but now, it’s given me a new purpose.

In the last game, when Lennon successfully blocked not only the initial shot during a breakaway, but also gloved down the rebound with calm and calculated ease, I couldn’t help but yell out my excitement along with the rest of the team. It earned me a few looks, likely because most of the girls have barely heard me speak more than five words, but it was worth it.

All the work Lennon has been putting in so far has made it worth it. And there’s still so much more potential in her.

Alice listens intently, jotting down more notes, and a faint smile crosses her face as I finish. “Good work, Luke.” She plants her elbow on the desk and rests her chin against her hand, appraising me with a warm expression. “I think you’re finally finding your footing here.”

I nod slowly. “I never thought I’d say it, but I agree.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah…” I trail off. “I think it does.”

Winter is beginning to wrap its icy fingers around Haulton as October gives way to November. The wind whips through my hair and sends a chill down my spine. I’ve lived in cold places my whole life, but the tolerance to those early chilly days never builds.

The parking lot is almost entirely empty, dimly lit by a few streetlights. Only Alice’s and my car remain in the lot as I quickly stride toward it. The night air is quiet with only the brush of the wind wrapping around the naked trees and buildings.

That’s why it’s so startling to hear the door to the rink slam shut behind me. I glance over my shoulder, expecting to see Alice locking up, but no.

Lennon stuffs a hat over her long hair, and the wind blows a few strands across her delicate face. What’s she still doing here?

I stop in my tracks and burrow my hands in my coat pockets, never bothering with gloves. “We ended practice an hour ago,” I call out. Lennon turns my direction and gives a small wave.

“I know,” she yells back. “But I wanted to get a couple miles in on the treadmill.”

I shake my head, and we each take a few steps toward each other, closing the distance of the parking lot. “You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I know my limits.”

Ignoring that, I ask, “How are you getting home? Are you parked somewhere else on campus?” Maybe she left her car by one of her classes and walked to the rink after it was done.

She cups her hands and blows in them to warm them up as she bounces on her toes. “I don’t have a car.”

“Then how are you getting home?” I ask, already feeling like I know the answer.

She points to her feet as if it’s obvious.

“You can’t walk home. It’s late.” And dark, and cold. Haulton’s in a safe area, but still, she should know better.

“It’s not far, I’m fine.”

“Then it’s not far out of my way to drive you.” The offer is out of my mouth before I can think better of it. But it’s not breaking any sort of rules giving her a ride…right? If Alice knew she was walking home, she’d understand.

Lennon tilts her head to the side and lets out an exasperated sigh. “I do this a lot.”

What the fuck? How haven’t I noticed that before? Sometimes our evening one-on-ones last until 10:00 pm. “You always walk home by yourself at night?”

“Most of the time. I usually catch a ride with Grace after practice, but since we started doing workouts after, I don’t want to hold her up.”

“Not anymore.” I stalk back toward my car and click the locks. When I reach the passenger door, I hold it open and motion to Lennon. “Get in.”

“It’s really fine?—”

“Just get in the damn car. It’s freezing.”

She opens that smart mouth of hers to argue, but I can see the yearning for the warmth and comfort a car ride is going to give her over walking on this chilly night. Her steps are heavy as she walks over, and only when she’s climbing into the car do I notice the circles under her eyes. Exhaustion weighs her shoulders down as she settles into the seat, and I close the door.

Once I’m in, I crank the heat and turn on the seat warmer for her. “What’s your address?”

She punches it into the GPS on my dashboard, and I glare at her when I see that it’s over a mile and a half away. She shrinks in her seat and mutters something I can’t make out.

I throw the car in reverse and drive out of the parking lot. “You’re not walking home alone again, got it?”

“You’re my coach, but you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“Watch me.”

She stews silently after that, and it’s hard to focus on the road. Jasmine and something else I can’t quite name fills the car, and I discreetly inhale, trying to decipher it. It must be her perfume or lotion she put on after showering. The heady scent goes straight to my brain.

I glance out of the corner of my eye at her and almost crack a smile. She’s burrowed into her coat, almost as if she’s trying to escape me, but instead she looks like a marshmallow. Her cheeks are rosy, and I’m not sure if it’s because of the cold or me scolding her.

We pull up to a stoplight at an intersection on the main part of campus, and I drum my fingers absentmindedly against the steering wheel.

“Why’d you pick goalie?”

Her question comes out of nowhere, breaking the silence. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugs, the movement small with the puffiness of her coat. “I don’t know, just trying to make conversation.”

“So you want to talk now?”

“I want to talk about something interesting. Not you bossing me around.”

“I like to drive in peace.”

“So you don’t even listen to music?”

I sigh. “If you want to listen to music, fine. Just don’t play any of that pop shit I’m sure you listen to.”

“Oh, shocker, the big man thinks his music taste is so superior.” She holds her hands up, mocking me, and it both irritates and amuses me.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you implied it.”

“Whatever. Just connect your phone.”

“I don’t want to listen to music. It hasn’t been the same since my favorite band broke up.”

I glance over at her to see her actually pouting.

“Don’t judge, okay? I’ve been listening to them since I was in high school! They were my favorite for like ten years, and I’ve been in mourning ever since.”

The light changes and I accelerate, the streets surprisingly quiet for a Friday night. “I’m not judging.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Alright, I am.”

Lennon chuckles, and I shake my head lightly.

“But seriously, why did you pick goalie?” She shifts in her seat so she’s angled toward me, intently waiting for my answer.

“My dad was a goalie.” I find myself giving her an honest answer, and it surprises us both. “And growing up, I wanted to be just like him. Still do, I guess. But my older brother never took a liking to it and became a defenseman, so it felt like it was my position to step into.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” she says softly, and when I look at her as I turn right, she smiles. “I thought you were going to say something shallow.”

“Like what?” I snort.

“Like all the hottest guys play goalie or something.” As soon as she says it, she jerks back slightly with wide eyes. Embarrassment washes over her face as she squirms in her seat. “I didn’t mean it—You know what I mean.”

I do know what she means, but at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little spark of something in my gut at her words.

What I want to say right now is, So you think I’m hot? but what I actually do, because she’s my player and I’m her coach and there are boundaries that cannot be crossed, is reflect her question back onto her. “Why did you pick goalie?”

She tucks her hands beneath her thighs as she settles down. “I loved hockey growing up, but I was never a fast skater. I tried for the first couple years to improve and keep up on a line, but it just wasn’t for me. When I was eleven, one of my coaches suggested I give goalie a shot during practice one day, and that was that. I fell in love with it.”

“It takes a special kind of person to love it.”

“Guess we’re special, then.” She smiles.

I laugh faintly. “Guess so.”

We pull in front of an apartment building and Lennon looks out the window. “This is it. Thanks for the ride, I appreciate—fuuuuck,” she groans, and her head hits the glass with a dull thud.

“What? You okay?” I try to look out the window to see if anything looks amiss, but it looks like a regular building to me.

“Grace is having a party.”

I look again, and on the third floor of the building, there’s an apartment with multi-colored lights flashing through the window. “Is that yours?”

“Yep.” She throws her head back against the headrest. “Ugh, and I have to be up so freaking early in the morning.” She’s almost on the verge of tears.

“Why? We don’t train on Saturdays.”

“I have a shift at the café.”

“You work there?”

She frowns at me. “Yes,” she says slowly. “I told you I’m a barista. And a tutor, too.”

I blink, trying to remember if she mentioned that.

She scoffs. “Of course, you weren’t paying attention.”

“I was,” I say defensively, although the information she’s telling me is not cataloged into my memory. It sends a pang of guilt through me, and I wonder what else I don’t know about Lennon.

And maybe, I’d like to find out.

“I just need to sleep.” Lennon drags her hands down her face, the exhaustion evident. She’s been working hard in the rink, and apparently, out of it too, and it’s clear she needs rest.

“Can’t you just ask her to shut it down?”

“What, so I can be the buzzkill to everyone upstairs?” She shakes her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Well, do you have anyone else’s place that you can stay?” She seems to get along well with the team, so surely there’s someone else she could crash with.

“It’s Friday night,” she grumbles. “Everyone’s either out or over at someone’s place for a party.”

I notice she doesn’t mention a boyfriend, and I don’t know why that piece of information seems to stick like glue in my head.

“It’s fine,” she says and reaches down by her feet for her backpack. “It’s not your problem to deal with.” When she faces me, one hand on the door and red heavy-lidded eyes, I make a split-second decision.

I throw the car in drive and pull away from the curb.

“What are you doing?” she exclaims. “I need to go to bed.”

“And you’re not going to do it there,” I say. “You’re not going to get any sleep, and we both know it.”

“I know, but?—”

“You can stay at my place.”

Lennon’s stunned into silence, and hell, I am too. What am I doing right now? It’s one thing to give her a ride home, but to take her to my place? To let her sleep there?

That’s gotta be breaking like ten code violations. I know I’ve never been one to really give a fuck about the rules, but even for me…

“I-I can’t do that.”

I flip on the radio to drown out her refusals because if I listen to them, I might start to agree with them. Logic screams in my brain to turn around, to drop her off, to forget that this idea ever even crossed my mind in the first place.

Lennon quickly hits the button, silencing the music. “Did you hear me?”

She knows I did.

“Coach, we can’t do that.”

My knuckles turn white as I grip the wheel. “It’s just for tonight so you can get some sleep. I have a guest room that never gets used.”

“This has got to be against some sort of rules,” she says, chewing on her lip.

Oh, it definitely is. “It’s just for tonight,” I repeat.

Her knee bounces nervously as she glances over at me.

“Look, if you’re uncomfortable with it, then I’ll call Alice for you and see if you can sleep at her place tonight.” I really don’t want to because for one, I don’t want to have to explain to Alice how I got myself into this situation to begin with. But also, I sort of like the idea of Lennon being under my roof for the night. Why that is, I have no fucking clue, and honestly, I shouldn’t like it. “But I’m serious. You need to rest. I’m not going to put in all this work for you, only to have you get sick or injured or burned out because you’re not getting enough sleep. Clearly, you need it. So just accept it, alright?”

She stares out the window, not acknowledging me, but at least she doesn’t try to argue anymore. And as the minutes tick by, her shoulders start to relax until she’s slumped down in the seat, already snoozing away. She looks angelic almost when the streetlights pass by, illuminating her features.

This is a bad, bad idea.