Page 1 of One Good Puck (Denver Bashers #5)

Gavin

“ Y ou sure this is the hill you wanna die on, Gavin? You’re positive?”

I nod at Alan Arden, General Manager of the Bashers, and look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more certain about anything. Get rid of this guy. I don’t want him on my team anymore.”

Alan huffs out a breath and shakes his head. He’s pissed at me for this. I know he is. But I don’t care.

He leans back in his chair behind the desk in his office and glances to the side. He shakes his head. “We’re gonna catch hell for this.”

“I don’t care,” I say. I cross my arms over my chest while standing in front of his desk.

Alan aims a hard frown at me. “I’ve always admired your conviction, Gavin.

Your no-nonsense approach to coaching and the way you treat the guys on our team.

But I gotta say, I’m not with you on this.

Zach McCoy is a great player. He played his ass off for us during the Stanley Cup series.

And he had some key plays during the championship game. ”

“I don’t care,” I repeat. “He released revenge porn of his ex. I don’t want a player like that on my team.”

Alan lets out another heavy sigh before he’s quiet for a second. In the handful of years I’ve been head coach of the Denver Bashers, I’ve always been on good terms with Alan. We’re not friends, but we’re cordial. He’s my boss. I don’t like to blur the lines with professional colleagues.

But this is the first time I’ve questioned his character for standing up for a player like Zach McCoy.

The last forty-eight hours have been an utter shit show since the news broke out that McCoy shared nude photos of his ex-girlfriend on a revenge porn site.

Reporters have been hounding the team’s coaches and management about it.

The players are getting bombarded with questions too.

My phone and email have been blowing up nonstop. It’s a fucking mess.

Rage simmers inside of me when I think about what a piece of shit McCoy is for doing something so cruel. It reminds me of what my late wife Nicole went through all those years ago…how it almost destroyed her…

I push that awful memory aside and refocus on the moment.

I look at Alan. “You can keep McCoy if you want, Alan. You’re the general manager of the team, so you get the final say when it comes to our roster. But if you choose to keep him, I’m gone.”

His eyes go wide at the ultimatum I’ve thrown at him. “Come on, Gavin. You don’t need to make threats.”

“I’m not making a threat. I’m just telling you the facts.”

I could tell him why I feel so strongly about this—because someone close to me was a victim of revenge porn and there’s no way in hell I’m ever working with a perpetrator of that crime .

I could remind him that our star player, Xander Williams, was a victim of revenge porn two seasons ago, and we as a team rallied around him. It would be pretty damn hypocritical of us to take a stand against revenge porn with one player, but then let it slide with another.

But I shouldn’t have to explain anything. Because what McCoy did was wrong. Illegal. Immoral. Beyond fucked up. And if Alan were a decent person with any semblance of a moral code, that should be enough to convince him.

Again, he shakes his head. Like he’s disappointed with me. Too bad I don’t give a fuck.

“Fine,” he mutters. He picks up his phone. “I’m calling McCoy’s agent right now. He’s gone.”

“Good,” I mutter back.

I walk out of his office without another word, knowing this will change our working dynamic forever. Whatever. It’s honestly a good thing that I know what kind of person Alan is deep down. Apparently, he’s fine with protecting a predatory piece of shit as long as he’s good at hockey.

I walk down the hall of the arena where the Bashers play, toward my office.

I grab my suit jacket from the back of my chair, unlock my phone, and pull up Xander’s contact info.

He’s the star center of our team, and the fiancé of my daughter Sophie.

I didn’t like the guy when I first met him.

He’s an incredible player on the ice, but off the ice, he was a playboy.

Only interested in fucking around and hooking up. Until he met my daughter.

I wasn’t thrilled when the two of them started dating.

Actually, that’s an understatement. I was fucking pissed when I found out my beautiful genius daughter was dating the guy whose nickname was panty dropper.

But over time, he won me over. I saw how committed he was to Sophie, how he put her needs and happiness and well-being above his own.

I saw just how much he loved her. And now we’re good.

I’ll be proud to call him my son-in-law next summer when they get married.

I tap his name in my contacts and call him. He answers right away.

“Hey, Coach. What’s up?”

“I met with Alan. McCoy’s off the team.”

Xander lets out a slow breath. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

I’m heartened by his response. For the longest time, I wrote Xander off as a stereotypical dumbass who didn’t care about anything other than bedding puck bunnies and playing hockey. But I was wrong. He’s a good guy to the core. He stands up for what’s right, no matter what.

“You had to push pretty hard with Alan, didn’t you?” Xander asks.

“Yeah. He thought McCoy deserved another chance. I didn’t.”

“I’m glad you stood your ground, Coach. I don’t wanna play with a guy who thinks revenge porn is okay.”

“I’ve always got your back,” I say, the edge in my voice gone. “You’re the first player on the team I’ve told. I still have to contact everyone.”

“I’m with Richards, Thompson, Blomdahl, and McKesson right now. I’ll let them all know about what happened with McCoy.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No, but I will be.”

“Come out and have a drink with us.”

“It’s the off-season. You really wanna see your coach when you don’t have to yet?”

“Of course we do.” I can tell he’s smiling. “Come on, I bet you could use a drink after the day you’ve had dealing with this mess.”

“Okay, sure. After I contact the rest of the players, I’ll join you guys.”

“Thanks for the beer, guys,” I say as I drain the last of my glass. We’re at some dive bar on the edge of downtown that I’ve never heard of before. Spanky’s is the name, I think.

I’m surprised that the guys hang out at a place as rundown as this.

I look around at the dimly lit space. Sticky brown carpet covers the floor, and all the tables and chairs look like they’re made of rickety wood.

There are three flat-screen TVs mounted in the bar, but only two of them seem to work.

“Glad you joined us, Coach,” Xander says.

“Yeah, it was fun having a drink with you,” Theo Thompson says. He’s one of the top left wingers on our roster.

“You should come out with us more often,” Sam McKesson says. Del Richards, who’s sitting next to him, frowns at him.

“I don’t think Richards is crazy about that idea,” I say.

The grumpy two-way center looks at me and shrugs. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. When I was a player, I didn’t want to go drinking with my coaches either,” I say.

Sam, who’s the top defenseman on the team, elbows Del and laughs.

“Del takes a while to warm up to new drinking buddies,” McKesson teases .

“I have a feeling you two are gonna be drinking buddy besties,” Braden Blomdahl jokes.

“And I have a feeling I’m going to aim the puck at your head at our next practice,” Del deadpans.

“Hey, now. I think that counts as goalie abuse,” Blomdahl says.

I stand up from the table and drop cash on the table.

“You don’t need to pay,” Xander says.

“I crashed your hangout. It’s the least I can do.”

They all thank me.

“See you at training camp next week, gentlemen,” I say before heading to the back where the restrooms are. When I walk out of the men’s room and back into the main part of the bar, I hear a familiar voice.

I turn around and see Abby sitting at a small booth in the back corner with some guy. I’ve met Abby a dozen times. She’s the friend and coworker of Dakota Richards, who is Del’s younger sister and the girlfriend of Sam.

Since Abby is looking at the guy sitting across from her, she doesn’t see me, which is probably a good thing. I bet I look like my eyes are about to pop out of my head. Her blonde hair is styled in pretty waves, and she’s wearing a yellow sundress. She looks gorgeous. She always looks gorgeous.

The first time I met her, I probably came off like a bumbling idiot. I couldn’t help it. She’s stunning.

And way out of your league, old man.

Abby is in her early thirties and is a kindergarten teacher.

She’s sweet and kind and funny. A few of the times we’ve talked, I got the impression she was flirting with me.

I thought about asking her out, but I talked myself out of it.

I’m pushing fifty. No way she’d be interested in a guy like me—a grumpy workaholic hockey coach .

She laughs at something the guy she’s with says. She’s clearly on a date with someone who looks closer to her age.

A disappointed feeling shoots through me. I’m instantly annoyed at myself. I don’t have any right to feel disappointed. She’s not mine.

A second later, I notice her smile goes tight.

“I should get going,” she says.

“Where do you want to head next?”

Her smile falters. “Sorry, but I don’t have time to do anything else. I need to pick up my daughter.”

“I can give you a ride. I love kids.” I frown at the smugness of the guy’s tone.

“No, that’s alright. I’m not comfortable with strangers around my daughter.”

The guy leans back like he’s offended.

“What do you mean? I’m a good guy. I’m great with kids.”

Abby’s expression falters for a second. She looks annoyed and disgusted, but the guy is too self-absorbed to notice.

He sets his credit card on the table, but Abby shakes her head.

“It’s okay, I can pay for my drink.” She pulls cash from her purse and goes to set it on their table, but the guy grabs her hand in his, holding her back.

I notice the way she tenses immediately. She tries to gently pull out of his grip, but he doesn’t let go. He just flashes that obnoxious, smug smile again.

Protectiveness flares up inside of me. This guy needs to keep his fucking hands to himself.

“Come on, Abby. What kind of date would I be if I let you pay? ”

Abby lets out a tired sigh. “This isn’t a date, Logan. I told you that.”

With a sharp jerk, she pulls her hand out of his grip. And that’s when I notice the change in his expression. His smile drops. He looks pissed.

I’m pissed too. Because whoever this guy is, he’s blatantly ignoring Abby’s boundaries, even though she’s made them clear. And he doesn’t seem interested in taking no for an answer.

That protectiveness inside of me sharpens. She shouldn’t have to put up with this shit.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I walk over to their table and stand next to Abby. I glance down at her and watch the recognition flash in her eyes.

“Gavin. Hi.”

“Hey, sweetness. Sorry I’m late.”

Yeah, it’s the most cliché thing in the world, pretending to be her boyfriend to get rid of this creep. But my first instinct was to grab the guy by his neck and toss him out of the bar, and I know that’s not the best way to handle this.

I keep my expression easy as I look at her, hoping I haven’t misread this whole situation…hoping that she’s not mad at me for stepping in.

But then, a second later, her mouth curves up in a relieved smile.

“It’s okay, baby,” she says. “I’m so glad you’re here.”