Page 6 of Right Pucking Daddy (Daddies of the League #7)

THREE

SASHA

The sights and sounds of an early fall morning in the remote woods surrounding the lakefront cabin I called home greeted me as I stepped out on the deck with my morning coffee.

Hawk, my solid black Belgian Shepherd, trotted along with me, huffing a sigh as he dropped into his favorite spot.

He could watch the birds and squirrels with ease.

He was a good boy and wouldn’t think to chase after them, but he loved to track their movements.

Early morning skates and conditioning had trained the night owl out of me years ago. It was one thing I was happy about now that I hated when I was still playing. But those days were done for. My life as a hockey player came to an extremely abrupt, excruciatingly painful halt.

And years later, I was finally starting to find things to make life worth living again. Kind of any way.

I still missed hockey. Every minute of every day.

My phone buzzed in my pocket several times, but I ignored it.

As I always do this time of year. Hockey teams, looking to add to their coaching staff, called repeatedly every off-season.

As did my agent. The calls would finally stop when they found someone, or they’d take a hint and move on.

I wanted no part of it. I wanted to play, not coach.

The buzzing continued until Hawk, my trained service dog, lifted himself from the deck and nosed the back pocket holding my phone.

“Yeah, buddy, I know,” I said, patting his head as the buzzing stopped.

The player who hit the puck that ended my hockey career showed up at the hospital with Hawk when he learned the injury robbed me of not only my career, but my vision and hearing on one side.

The injury wasn’t his fault. Hockey was a dangerous sport, but if our places were reversed, I would’ve felt the same way.

At least now. The guy I’d been before the injury…

well, it was probably better for the world that I got knocked down a peg or two.

The buzzing started again, and this time, Hawk added a whine to the nose bump. Groaning, I pulled the blasted device from my pocket. I contemplated chucking it at the trees surrounding the house, but I knew from experience Hawk would only chase it down and bring it back to me.

My brow pinched at the name on the screen. Anya Rustav . Why would she be calling me? I’d not spoken with her or Mikal since the day I threw him out of my hospital room seven years ago.

“Anya?”

“No, Storm, it’s Mikal, but as usual, my wife was right.”

Storm. No one had called me that in years. Not since the injury .

“Oh yeah. What was the beauty you married, but don’t deserve, right about this time?”

“You answered her call but ignored my own.”

I pulled my phone from my good ear, turning on the speakerphone to check the missed calls. Sure enough, there were no less than ten missed calls from Mikal and several more from Rustav Ice Rink.

“I’ve already turned down coaching positions for several colleges and pro teams. Mikal, I’m not interested in a job.”

“I know, but I’m calling in a favor.”

“A favor? Since when do I owe you a favor?”

“Is that not the right term?”

“No, love, it isn’t. If anyone owes a favor, it is you to Sasha?” Anya said in the call’s background.

I rolled my eyes. Nearly twenty-five years had passed since Mikal Rustav came to this country to play hockey, and he’s still mixing up phrases, it seemed.

“What’s the favor you’re asking for, Mikal?”

“Oh yes. That is the term. I’m asking for a favor.”

“Yeah, I got that. What is it?”

“Come out of hiding and coach my son’s hockey team.”

“No.”

“Please, Sasha. You were the star. Are the star everyone wants. Still. Our boy deserves his shot. He’s so very good, but his coach… ”

“Wait, since when do you have a kid?”

“You would know these things if you did not hide in the woods, my friend.”

“Mikal! Honey, not vinegar!” Anya yelled.

I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but I had missed my friend and his wife. Mikal and Anya tried to be there for me after the injury, but I cut myself off from everyone. Especially everyone and anything that reminded me of the life I no longer had.

“Yes, yes, Anya,” Mikal said, groaning. I could almost picture him scrubbing his hand over his face as he did so. “Anya and I took in a teen boy several years ago. He had no one.”

“Tell me about him.”

“No. I do not want him receiving special treatment.”

“If I take the job, your name…”

“Yes, yes, this I know, but… I’m asking you to not go looking.”

“Looking? Does he not have your name?”

“No, but that’s neither here nor there. Sasha, these boys all need someone to guide them. Not just our boy. Yes, I come to you because he’s upset…”

As he should be, I thought. A new coach coming in right just as the official start of the season is upon them puts everything in limbo.

“But that is not all. I want to help him, of course I do, what father wouldn’t…”

“Oh, I know a few,” I muttered .

“Yes, as do Anya and I, but that’s not the only reason I called. Now, after all these years, I have a way to help you as well. You could be there for all of them and finally come out of the woodwork.”

“Why me? You’re a coach,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “Plus, you won the cup.”

“You were an integral part of that season, Storm.”

“I’m not rehashing old arguments, my friend. Say I agree, the university may not. Hell, you’ve not even mentioned what school.”

“Sasha, there’s only one school that matters this much to Mikal, which you should well know,” Anya yelled in the background.

Manchester University, or The U, or MU, which was pronounced ‘moo’, and was ridiculous in my opinion, was my Alma Mater as well. And Anya was right. The U was the only school that mattered.

“If they call…”

“They have. Multiple times, but you’ve not answered. According to the school’s Athletic Department, they’ve been sent to voicemail. And the response from your agent was ‘Storm isn’t interested in coaching,’ so they called me.”

“If they offered you the job?”

“No. They didn’t offer me the job. They called asking me to talk some sense into you.”

I groaned. So, it was mine if I wanted it because if a team as good as The U was still looking for a coach at the end of September… well, that meant there were issues .

I loved my time at Manchester. The community was small, but big enough not to be boring. From the moment I stepped foot on campus and in the town, I felt at home. It’s why I picked this plot of land and cabin. It was close to one of the only places I felt at home.

“They just completed a seventy-million-dollar remodel of the hockey facilities. It’s brand new, never been used. And there’s housing included.”

“Where do the boys stay in this expensive mecca of hockey greatness?”

“That’s part of the new facilities. The team has quarters attached to the arena. It’s a separate building, but there’s an underground passageway.”

“You’ve seen it?”

“Just the plans. They asked for suggestions from some of the alumni.”

My mind whirled. I should never have answered the phone. I felt like I couldn’t say no. And I wanted to.

Or did I?

To coach at The U? It would give me the ability to step back into the world of hockey without being the half blind, half deaf commentator.

“I have Hawk…”

“He’s a service animal. I should know, I purchased him. I made sure he could go wherever you wanted to go. Plus, there are teams actually taking in pups to train as service animals. So, Hawk is a non-issue, as they say. ”

“You’ve thought of a response to every argument, haven’t you?”

“I am the same man you knew before you cut everyone and thing from your life, my friend.”

“Does the kid…”

“Know I’m calling you? No. I told him I would reach out to see what the university’s plans were since the season starts in a couple of weeks. That is all he knows.”

I pulled up the calendar on my phone and swore. “Move in is in a few days, Mikal.”

“I am aware. I have a boy to move in.”

“And you won’t tell me who he is or even what position he plays?”

“No. I need you to promise me you will not dig for info. I want your honest assessment of all the kids. I coached several of them. The whole lot of them are good boys.”

“Bullshit, Mikal. We were those boys, and we were so far from good…”

“Speak for yourself, Storm. I was a very good boy.”

“You’re the one who took me to that club…”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it, Daddy Sasha.” He paused, then said, “There’s a club in Manchester you’ll enjoy. Exclusive. Private. With the sort of events and members you’ll enjoy.”

“Are you seriously trying to sell me on a job with a kink club as an added benefit? ”

“I can make sure you get that added to your contract if you want. Muncy required a membership to the local country club.”

“I don’t think a kink club would be viewed quite the same way.”

“Small-minded, closeted…”

“I agree, my friend.”

The line went quiet. The sound of paper rustling echoed from the speakers. He was waiting me out.

Finally, I said, “Tell the AD to call me.”

“Will you answer?”

I rolled my eyes, but held my tongue because he had a point.

“Yes. I’ll take the job. But I want there to be a stipulation that I be allowed out of my contract at the end of the season if it’s not a fit, and that I’ll be allowed to run my team as I see fit without any interference.”

“Done.”

“Oh, and you can pay for my membership to the kink club since you brought it up.”

“Also, done. You need a boy in your life. There is nothing like having a partner.”

My phone dinged with a series of texts.

EDGE

Welcome to EDGE.

We are an all-inclusive BDSM community that allows kinksters to explore boundaries in a safe, sane, consensual manner with like-minded individuals .

I laughed so hard when the line went dead with no further comment. Hawk raised his snout, looking at me with his head cocked curiously then came to me, resting his chin on my knee.

“Well, buddy,” I said, dropping my forehead to his, “looks like we’re moving.”

A new job. A new town. And… looking at the text notifications of the kink club on the phone screen…

maybe, just maybe, a boy to call my own.

Something I’ve not had since before the accident.

And even then, it wasn’t quite what I wanted.

I wanted a boy in my house, in my bed, and as a part of my life, as more than a plaything. Like Mikal, I wanted a partner.