Page 14 of Not in the Plans (London Lightning #1)

Chapter Twelve

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“ Y ou know, when you said team bonding, this isn’t quite what I had in mind.”

“What did you have in mind?” I ask.

After another shitty practice, I couldn’t let the team keep spiraling. They’re not gelling, and it’s only going to get worse if I don’t step in and do something.

“I don’t know. I figured it’d be like the things they used to make us do at summer camp. Like trust falls or what have you.”

I laugh. “I don’t think that would work out too well with these guys. We need to build up to that.”

“Smashing things is better?” Jack quirks a brow at me. “Do you think this is going to work?”

I shrug a shoulder. “Fuck all if I know. But it’ll be a start.”

When I first tried to come up with a place to bring the team together, I wasn’t really thinking of a smash room. But the more I looked at it, the more I figured why not try? Bringing a bunch of men together to blow shit up?

Who wouldn’t love that ?

I can feel their skepticism as I drop my wallet, keys, and phone into the small lock box. The younger woman who works here is busy handing out face shields—attached to a hard hat—to all the guys.

“You know, I think this could work,” Alfie says.

“Glad you don’t think I’m crazy.”

I grab the proffered shield as I enter the room. This one is more tame than some of the others I’ve seen. Considering we have our first game next week, I wanted this to be a safe event for the guys.

Graffiti paints the wood walls. Old TVs, pallets, glassware, and furniture cover the space. Everything is in here for us to destroy.

A ripple of excitement works its way through the guys as a brief safety demonstration is given.

Mainly, check to make sure you have room to swing your chosen tool before doing so. I can’t imagine getting clocked in the head with a sledgehammer.

Alfie elbows me in the side. “You think you’d want to bring your new girl here?”

I roll my eyes at him. “I never should have told you I was taking her out.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Jack whispers.

“It’s because you didn’t want to join us that night,” Alfie oh-so-helpfully supplies.

“Wasn’t my fault my train was delayed.”

“Either way, I regret it.” I laugh.

Jack flips me off as we move to a corner to let the guys get a head start. With only so many sledgehammers, they’re going to be taking turns.

“No, you don’t,” Jack says. “You like telling us things.”

“Not in the company of the team. They don’t need to know about my love life.”

“That means things are going well?” Alfie asks .

“We’ve only had one date.”

Even though it went really well, I still don’t want to divulge too much about it to these guys.

Cracks and bangs echo around the room as the players get started. Whoops and shouts ring out.

“Damn. It looks like they’re really liking this,” Jack tells me.

“See? I wasn’t lying.”

I had no idea how this would go, but it’s clear they are liking it. Hell, seeing the smiles on their faces has me thinking this might be a good place to bring Liv.

If only to see her let her hair down.

“Think we need to be concerned with Simmons?” Jack asks, nodding toward our goalie, who is pounding away on what appears to be an old trash can.

Glancing across the room, I find the man in question.

At the rate he’s going, he is going to demolish the sledgehammer he’s using. Considering we were the most scored upon team last year, his anger is justified.

“I’ll check on him after.”

I watch as the guys keep smashing the room to smithereens. Bits of debris fly around—thank God for the helmets, because I don’t want anyone getting injured.

“Hey, Coach. You want a turn?”

McCord, the newest player we got in a trade with Belfast, holds out a baseball bat to me.

“Hell, yeah.”

Safety shield firmly in place, I grab the bat and find something that isn’t ripped to shreds. A lone TV sits in the corner untouched.

Winding up the bat, I take a swing.

Glass and plastic explode from the tip of the bat as it shatters the small screen. Fuck, yeah.

I don’t let a single piece of it out of my sight as I swing and swing. The cracks and explosions from around the room are music to my ears.

“Do you have your own issues to work out?” Alfie questions as I wipe the sweat from my brow.

“Nah. It just feels good.” I hold out the bat to him. “You do it.”

Alfie grabs the bat and Jack takes a sledgehammer from another guy. Between the two of them, they work out their aggression on an old trash can.

By the end of our hour, not a single thing is left intact. Guys are stepping over scraps of what was once a TV. Glass. Wood.

“How’d that feel?” I ask the guys as we head back into the dining area off the smash room.

“Fucking awesome. I wish we could do this every week.”

Pizza and buckets of beer sit on the tables stretching across the room. The walls in here are like the ones in the smash room—covered in graffiti in bright oranges and yellows.

TVs hang in the corners with videos of people tearing various rooms up. The guys immediately go for the drinks and stand around chatting, reliving what they just did based on their gestures.

“Simmons.” I walk over to our goalie and pull him away from the other defensemen on the team. “How are you feeling?”

He beams bright and happy at me. “Honestly? Fucking amazing.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I’ve never done anything like this with another team before,” he tells me.

“I’ve never done anything like this in my life.” I laugh .

Simmons eyes me warily, like he’s weighing if he can trust me with what he’s about to say.

“I’m really trying, Coach. I think my glove skills are getting better. Coach Alfie is helping me a lot.”

“Good, I’m glad he is. You’re improving, and sometimes it might not feel like you’re doing it as fast as you want to, but we’re all seeing it.”

He nods. “I’m going to keep working hard to show you I can do it.”

“I know you’ll keep it up.” I clap him on the shoulder. “Now, go grab something to eat before these guys eat it all.”

He smiles at me before joining the rest of the team.

I never envied the goalie on our team. Much like Simmons, we were one of the most scored upon teams in the league.

We sucked. Plain and simple. I never wanted to be the one to carry the loss for letting the goals in. It’s something every goalie carries with them, Simmons included. It’s like every goal scored on them is a dent in their pads they wear.

“Guess you were right,” Alfie tells me, pulling me from my thoughts.

“I knew he’d be okay. Credited you for his turnaround.”

“Really?”

Alfie looks shocked at this news, his face turning the color of a tomato.

“Said it’s because he’s been training with you. Just what we like to hear about our coaches.”

“It’s not me.” Alfie shies away from the praise. “He’s got skill. Just needs someone to help him harness it out on the ice.”

“Doesn’t hurt that he has a good coach. ”

His blush darkens as he walks away from me to the safety of Jack and starts chatting with him.

Looking around the room, it seems I achieved my goal. We’ll see if it translates to the ice before our first game next week. With only one more practice to go, I hope it does.

Now that Liv and I are dating, I’m liking my new home here in London. Not that I wasn’t going to do a good job before, but I want to stick around.

Because I like Liv and want to see where this thing goes.