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19

Luke

N ormally, I don’t pay much attention to rules or expectations. When I was playing hockey, goalies were usually expected to stay out of any scuffles, but I didn’t mind getting my hands dirty if one of my teammates needed me. The amount of money I paid in fines over the years for swearing on live TV is enough to make anyone working a regular job balk.

But suddenly, rules and red tape are all I can see every time I look at Lennon.

Her laughter reaches me from across the locker room, cutting through the rest of the chatter and commotion. I glance over at her to see she’s smiling at something Grace said. They’re engaged in conversation, and it’d be rude to interrupt, but like I said, I’ve never paid much attention to that before.

But I do have a job to do, and I need to stay focused on that. Lennon is going to graduate, and there will be new players to focus on. I need to keep my head in the game and forget about the way her soft, sweet smell clung to the sheets as I tossed them in the washer the morning after she left.

Excusing myself from Alice and Jenna, I cut across the room and stop in front of the two of them.

“Hi, Coach,” Grace says. Lennon glances up at me as she re-ties one of her skates. She looks up through her lashes, and it gives me a jolt.

“Hey,” she says, surprise coloring her tone.

I shouldn’t be shocked by that. Since she spent the night at my house and slipped out in the morning without even a goodbye, I’ve been avoiding her. A line was crossed that night, and each time I’ve seen her since, other lines are flashing at me, daring me to cross them too.

“Good work out there,” I tell Lennon. “They’re growing frustrated they can’t get anything past, and it’s making them sloppy. Watch out in this last period because they’ll try to bait Aubrey and Austen into taking penalties so we’ll be short-handed.”

Lennon nods, the movement making her hair swish behind her back. A few, dark curls frame her face and stick slightly to her forehead. My fingers twitch with the desire to tuck them behind her ears.

Not fucking happening.

“Got it,” she says confidently. “What else?”

I love the way she’s hungry for ways to improve. Since we’ve gotten on the same page about things, she’s been amenable to my feedback and eager to listen.

“You have the same problem that I’ve been coaching Grace on,” I say, nodding toward our backup goalie. “You need to come out of the crease more to keep the play alive.”

Her head falls back. “I don’t like leaving the net unattended.”

“Me either,” Grace agrees.

“Well no shit,” I snort. “It’s about picking your moments. If there’s a player right in front of the net, waiting for a pass, then yeah, don’t leave the crease. But if they’re not even across the blue line yet and you have teammates in close range, and you can help them out, you gotta step out. Not only during power plays.”

Lennon processes the information, frowning slightly as she works it over in her head. I know she gets nervous to step out of the crease. It’s a tough thing to overcome as a goalie. But it’s necessary to playing the position to the fullest.

“I don’t like it, but he’s right,” Grace says, and I suppress a smirk as Lennon looks at her best friend’s betrayal. “We went over a few practice runs this week when you were with Coach Maver and the first line working on a shoot out.”

Lennon clenches her teeth, but finally nods slowly. “I know.”

“You know what?” I push.

Fire is in those eyes of hers as she says, “You’re right.”

I cross my arms proudly. “Damn straight. We’ll run the same drill I did with Grace this next week.” Again, she looks surprised by the promise of us running the drill together since I cancelled a few of our sessions this week. I just needed some space — some time to talk myself off the cliff.

With that, there’s only a few minutes left before the final period starts, and the team takes the ice once more. As the last twenty minutes tick down, the air gets stuck in my lungs numerous times as Westlake gets a few really good breakaway opportunities. But each and every time, Lennon shuts them down.

Her confidence has grown miles since the first game of the season, as well as her endurance. Westlake gets Maria on a high sticking call, earning a two minute penalty. Their special teams is good, but Lennon is better.

There’s a close call as a shot comes sailing from close to the blue line and is redirected by a player’s shoulder, but Lennon tracks it the entire way and is able to bat it away with her left arm pad. They get a rebound shot right after, going for the five-hole, but again, Lennon is fast as lightning, dropping down and blocking it again before she can cover it with her glove to stop the play.

The bench erupts when the power play runs out, the team successfully making it through without giving up any goals. Westlake tries to get something to stick, but as the clock runs down, they end up empty handed.

The girls rush Lennon as soon as the buzzer sounds, cheering and celebrating her first shut-out of the season. Alice is beaming as she claps me on the back. “Congratulations!”

I can’t help but smile back. “It’s all her,” I say proudly.

The teams shake hands and make their way back to the locker room. The girls are whooping and cheering the entire way, turning the locker room into one giant celebration that Alice isn’t even able to contain and finally just shouts, “Good game girls!” and leaves it at that for her post-game speech.

I try to catch Lennon’s eye before I leave the locker room, but she’s constantly surrounded by her teammates making it unsuccessful. I’ll congratulate her outside.

Already, my mind is racing, anticipating watching the film back with Lennon and instead of pointing out where she’s been going wrong, I get to point out everywhere her hard work is paying off. Our hard work. Watching her progress is almost as satisfying as if it were my own.

Fuck, my heart is pounding and this feeling, this spark, it’s quickly becoming a burning inferno that I want to keep feeding with more and more pieces of her and this game.

Grabbing my jacket from my office, I shrug it on and head out to the atrium of the rink to find my family. They’ve been bugging me about coming to watch a game, and finally I gave them the greenlight tonight.

It’s pretty crowded, with lots of parents and students milling around. I wonder if Lennon’s parents are somewhere in the mix? She said she didn’t live far from campus, but that doesn’t mean that her parents make it to every game.

“Luke!” A deep voice pulls my attention, and I turn to find Sebastian, Sierra, and my dad huddled off to the side of the crowd. Sebastian waves at me, and I’m immediately pulled into a hug by my dad when I reach them.

“What a game,” he says. When he pulls back, I notice that he’s wearing a Huskies sweatshirt.

I tug on the hoodie string. “Where did you get this?”

“We had to stop at the campus store before the game,” Sierra says, gesturing to her own Huskies apparel. Sebastian is wearing one too, all of them decked out in the school’s signature powder blue and gray.

It hits me harder than it ever did seeing them in the red and blue of my own former team. I blink a few times, not sure what the hell is wrong with me.

“That’s great,” I say, swallowing thickly. “Glad you guys could make it. A good game for your first one.”

“Damn straight,” Sebastian says, clapping me on the back. “That goalie of yours was incredible. Can’t believe she’s able to deliver a performance like that with you as her coach.”

I flip him off as Sierra slaps his chest in reprimand.

“And how many games have your boys won this season?” I ask, knowing the answer is exactly two.

“Fuck you,” Sebastian mutters, looking wounded.

“Language,” Sierra chides while Dad chuckles. She turns her attention to me, and the iciness that she often regards me with since my divorce seems to have thawed slightly. “You seem to be doing good, Luke. Watching you behind the bench today reminded me a lot of this one.” She playfully bumps Seb’s shoulder. “You were more animated than I think I’ve seen you in years.”

“Sure surprised me,” Dad says. He spins his wedding ring, something he’s never taken off in the years since we lost my mom. “But it was nice to see, Son. Real nice.”

I pat his back in acknowledgment. That’s about as emotional as either of us are going to get with each other.

“Alice has done good by you.”

She has, but that’s not the one who’s made this whole coaching thing start to feel worthwhile. Speaking of…I look back toward the exit of the locker room to see if Lennon’s come out yet.

Seb says something to me, but it turns to static as the door swings open and Lennon comes striding through.

She looks beautiful with her flushed skin, damp hair, and that winning sparkle in her eyes. She practically skips as she comes out of the locker room with her bag slung over her shoulder, dressed in a Haulton tracksuit. The light blue material clings to her toned thighs and perfectly highlights the curve of her ass that I most definitely shouldn’t be looking at.

But fuck me…

She looks around the crowd, eyes scanning like she’s trying to find someone in particular. I open my mouth to call out to her, to bring her over to introduce to my family, when a guy scoops her up and spins her around. His hands cup the ass that I was just admiring, and when he sets her back down, he doesn’t waste any time before capturing her mouth with his.

Her name gets lodged in my throat like a stale piece of bread, and I cough, a sad attempt at a recovery. Who the fuck is that?

He touches her the way my own hand twitches with the desire to but can’t. As his lips lock with hers, jealousy singes the back of my neck, and I force myself to look away. My heart rattles against my chest, wanting to be set on fire as I swallow the harsh reality I’ve been avoiding.

She’s not mine. Not to have, not to touch.

She didn’t mention that she had a boyfriend. Is it her boyfriend? Something flickers in my chest, an ember slowly dying, as I peek back over at them. The guy looks to be about her age, with flowing hair and a Haulton Hockey hoodie. A few more guys surround Lennon and other girls on the team, and I realize they must be on the boy’s team here. Another one wraps his arms around Grace, and she snuggles into his side.

Of course Lennon’s dating a guy on the boy’s team. That makes sense. They look good together as they laugh with their little group, the sound of it mixing together and granting me a pounding headache.

“Luke?”

That jolts me out of my stupor, and I quickly check my surroundings, making sure no one noticed me staring. “What?” I ask Sebastian.

“Dad asked if you know where Alice is. He wants to say hi.” He frowns at me, then his eyes jump to Lennon over my shoulder and then back to me. If I give him enough time, he’ll piece together the change in my mood with the appearance of her and jump to conclusions that aren’t even true. Can never be true.

“Yeah.” I clear my throat and fiddle with my keys. “Let’s go find her.”

I lead my family away from the crowd, away from Lennon, away from bad temptation and a choking feeling that I do my best to ignore.

But call me a masochist, I can’t help but take one last look at Lennon and her boyfriend before we leave. Just to remind myself to keep my head in check. To burn into my memory the next time the gleam in her eyes makes the dormant spark in my chest burn a little brighter.

I’m just her coach, and I need to keep my focus on my fucking job.