Page 5 of Not in the Plans (London Lightning #1)

Chapter Five

TAG

“ W hy do you look so smug?” Alfie asks, coming back into my office, a whistle around his neck. Checking my watch, I realize practice is set to start in thirty minutes.

“Do I?”

“Does it have anything to do with the woman that stopped by earlier?”

“Olivia?”

He nods. “She looks familiar.”

“The girl from the bar,” I supply.

Alfie whistles as I follow him out of the office toward the locker rooms. “Damn. You sure don’t waste any time.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I’ve never been one to kiss and tell, if you will. I never slept around before I got married. I was always a relationship guy. But there was something about Olivia I couldn’t say no to.

Telling Alfie about her? It feels wrong.

Even if she slipped out before I was awake .

Finding out that she works here? That is a surprise. One I don’t mind.

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“Nope.” I shake my head as I open the door to the locker room. “Nothing to tell.”

“Fine.” Alfie eyes me before I shake him off.

The new defensive coach is waiting for us.

“Jack Jones.” He holds his hand out in a no-nonsense manner.

“Stanley Easton. You can call me Tag.”

“Alfie Hughes.”

“Nice to meet you both.”

His accent is thick, clearly English. Having done my research on him, I know he’s an ex-hockey player.

From what I gathered, he was happy staying in Europe to play.

He was fucking talented as hell—could have made it in the NHL without a doubt.

There was nothing I could find on why he didn’t want to leave.

“I’m glad you’re with us,” I tell him. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Happy to be here.” Jack gives me a clipped nod, dark brown hair peeking out from under his backwards baseball cap.

“You played for the Belfast Blades?” Alfie asks. “They’re a great team.”

“We were. Hopefully this team will be better.”

That earns him a smile from me. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The guys are already gathered in the locker room, shooting the shit as they get ready for practice. It’s not big by any means, but I know the European leagues don’t have the same funds as the NHL.

Each guy has a folding chair in front of their stall. Jerseys hang from hooks, and the smell of sweat and ice lingers in the air.

With not much room, the guys are crowded in one corner. This is one of the things that I missed the most when I retired from the game.

Having a good group of guys around you.

Our team wasn’t the best. We had a coach that was putting in the time before he could retire. Making the playoffs? Never happened.

It didn’t matter to me. I still love the sport.

And hopefully I can help turn this team around.

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” I call out. The locker room quiets down as all eyes turn to me. “Stanley Easton. I’m your new coach. You can call me Coach or Tag. You’ll find I’m easy to get along with, but I run a tight ship. If I say seven, I mean seven. Not five minutes later.”

A few guys shift on their skates, looking nervous. They’re the ones that are going to have the hardest time with me as coach.

“Jack and Alfie here are your new assistant coaches. If you have problems, I want you to come to one of us. I don’t want things to linger or explode on the ice. That’s not what I want this team to be about, you got it?”

“Yes, Coach,” a few people say.

“Good. Now, let’s hit the ice and get started.”

I clap the guys on the shoulder as they file out past me. A few of the players I recognize from film, having studied last year’s team before I started. They’re talented. We have the skills to go far.

Guidance and training is what this team needs to turn things around.

“That was quite the welcome,” Jack says from behind me .

“Don’t want to scare them off just yet.”

Grabbing my skates I left in here earlier, I lace them up and follow everyone out to the ice.

It’s a smooth sheet of glass, a beacon calling me home. Breathing in the cold air, I know this was the right decision to move here.

After retiring a year and a half ago, I didn’t have much of a plan. Throw in a divorce, and when the Lightning came calling, I jumped at the chance to coach a team.

Pushing off, I do a lap around the ice.

Scraping and scratching hits my ears as I sink into my skates. Muscle memory comes back, carrying me around the boards, as I get my feet under me.

Grabbing the whistle around my neck, I bring the metal to my lips. The sound echoes in the empty arena. It stops everyone where they are.

“Alright. I want to start with a little five-on-five. See where we are. We’ll sub in, so let’s split up and get going.”

Jack and Alfie help to divide the teams as those not playing take their spots on the bench. Alfie drops the puck and the game starts.

There’s talent for sure, but with that skill comes egos. One guy hogs the puck, allowing for an open man—and a potential shot on goal—to be missed.

Blowing the whistle, I change out the lines. It’s more of the same. Selfishness seems to be the word of the day. A few guys manage to get some good passes in, but that’s where it ends.

I wince, grabbing the whistle to change out the lines again. Damn. This is worse than I thought. Missed passes. Sloppy skating. Easy goals let in.

I’ve got my work cut out for me.

“Did you know they were this bad?” Jack whispers out of the side of his mouth .

“You don’t clean house because they’re good,” I fire back.

After a few more changes, I blow my whistle and bring everyone to center ice. “That was a good first practice.”

“We were crap, Coach,” one of the guys shouts from the back.

Murmurs echo around me as they all agree.

“That’s the last time I want to hear that.

” I look at each man standing in front of me.

Some look dejected. Others tired. “I see strengths in each one of you. The lines you played on before might not be the same ones you’ll play on this year.

Jack, Alfie, and I are going to be mixing things up.

We’re going to run some drills, hit the weight room, and then hit the ground running tomorrow. ”

That earns me a few nods. I blow my whistle. “Good, now, suicides. Let’s go.”

I know we’ve got a long road ahead of us, but it’s something I’m ready for.

“You’re good at being diplomatic,” Alfie tells me as we head back toward the offices once practice is over.

“Considering I was part of the worst team in the league for years, hearing ‘you suck’ isn’t the way to earn their trust.”

My time in Nashville wasn’t great. I loved playing, but damn, we sucked. We were at the bottom of the league every season. My coach? He didn’t care. It was a paycheck to him.

Once they got a new coach, things have been turning around for them.

I’m hoping the same can be said about the Lightning. I don’t want to be kicked out after this season. Not after I’ve had such a warm welcome to London.

I shouldn’t be thinking about Olivia again .

The very last place I expected to run into her was here. At my new job. But damn if I don’t consider myself lucky.

The minx fled my apartment before I could get her number. Knowing now exactly where I can find her?

I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy this job more than I should.