Page 37 of Sexting the Coach (Pucking Daddies #6)

Weston

“Now, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be here.”

I look up from staring into my whiskey and a jolt runs through me when I see who it is standing to the left of my bar stool, a single eyebrow raised.

“Clark,” I stammer, turning, somehow still feeling like a star-struck schoolboy. “Hey, man. Good to see you.”

Clark laughs, shaking his head and taking a seat on the barstool next to me. “Call me Harrison. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Why do I suddenly turn into a bumbling idiot the moment I see him?

“I’m gonna cut the crap,” Harrison says, thanking the bartender for his drink and glancing at me before taking a sip. “I know about you and Montgomery.”

Yeah, I want to say—so does everyone. That video has thoroughly and completely made the rounds now. All I’m waiting for is Leda to comment on it, and the press are going to swarm back on me like flies to a pile of shit.

“Right,” I say instead, because I’m not sure what else to say. A beat goes by, and the two of us listen to the dull beat of a hip hop song thrumming through the speakers.

“I’m going to guess that whole thing has to do with you not being at the ceremony,” Harrison wagers, tipping his head toward me.

I let out a brittle laugh, “Her dad is being inducted today. Which means she’s probably there.”

“And you don’t want to see her?”

“Pretty sure she doesn’t want to see me.” In fact, I have no idea what Elsie wants. She quit her job to protect me, then told me to leave her alone. The whole thing doesn’t make any sense.

“So why the hell are you here?”

I blink, turning to my hero, and Harrison laughs good-naturedly. “What?”

“You didn’t have to come all the way to Canada to avoid the ceremony,” Harrison points out, gesturing to me with his glass. “You could have done that at home.”

“What are you doing here?” I counter, because I can’t face questions about myself right now.

Harrison shrugs, “They asked me to do a little pre-recorded speech for the live stream. Was planning on staying for the ceremony, but our little guy is fussy. We came back here, and when I saw you in the bar, figured I should stop and say something before heading up.”

“Don’t let me keep you.”

“Oh, trust me,” Harrison says, smirking and taking a drink of his whiskey. “My wife wanted me to talk to you. She’s been following this whole thing.”

“This whole thing?”

“You and Montgomery,” Harrison says, knowingly. “She ships the two of you.”

I try to ignore the heat that rises to my face. The uneasy sense of being perceived by another person. “Oh. Right.”

“You’d be doing me a favor if you got on with the happy ending already.”

“I don’t think she wants a happy ending with me,” I say, and then, as though it’s the nail in the coffin, “And that’s not even the most compelling reason to leave her alone.

I’m too old for her, already missed my chance at doing the whole family thing.

And she’s like, impossibly cheery all the time. I’m not like that.”

“Sounds like she makes you better.”

“She does.”

“And if you think the age thing is a problem,” Harrison says, a laugh playing at his lips. “Then you’re not going to want to hear about me and my wife.”

I raise my eyebrows. I had enough of my own shit going on the past few years, with coaching and everything going on with Morton, that I’d only heard the faint rumors of something going on with Harrison and the team strategist.

“Really?” I ask, not voicing the specifics of the question.

“Yup,” he says. “But here’s the thing about it.

We make each other happy. We’re right for each other.

She’s a grown woman, more than capable of making her own decisions.

Pulling away to stop from falling in love with her is an affront to her.

She doesn’t need me to police her attraction, or the decisions she makes with her life. ”

I swallow, thinking of Elsie. Bright, intelligent. So fucking smart and driven. She doesn’t need me deciding I’m not enough for her.

But I told her I would leave her alone. Who do I believe? The version of her in that apartment, crying and telling me to leave, or the version of her who quit her job to protect me?

“If you’re the guy I think you are,” Harrison says, “then you wouldn’t let go of something you want until you’re sure she doesn’t want it, too.”

Like my fairy-hockey-father, Harrison has somehow managed to prod at all my insecurities and hang-ups with me and Elsie. And made me realize that while I’m sitting here, drowning myself in whiskey just like my father would have done, I’m letting her get away.

Elsie. My future. The brightest part of my day and the only person who could have gotten me through the past couple of months.

I slap a bill down on the counter and stand. “Thanks for the talk. I gotta go.”

Harrison grins as I shrug on my jacket and turn, heading for the door. But then, before I can step out, he stops me.

“Oh, and one last thing, Wolfe.”

I turn, body thrumming with adrenaline, ready to get to the ceremony before it’s too late. “Yeah?”

Harrison gestures to his head, pointedly looking at my hat. “You should embrace it. Trust me, going silver is a blessing in disguise.”

I thank him and leave the hotel, walking briskly down the street in the cold air. It’s only when I reach the event center, pushing through the tall, golden doors, that I recognize Clark’s guess about my hair.

It’s not just hair, I realize. It’s embracing growing older. And every time I pull my hat down over my head, I’m just delaying the inevitable. Running from a future that could be good, if I just let it be.

When I push through the doors, I pluck the Squids hat up off my head, run a hand through my hair, and drop the thing in the trash.

The ceremony has already started by the time I walk into the ballroom.

It’s filled with tables, all covered by crisp, perfectly white tablecloths. Candles flicker on the faces of the guests, and I scan through the dim light of the room, desperately searching for the shape of the woman I’m looking for.

“Sir?”

I pause, glancing at the man who’s appeared at my elbow. He’s wearing a suit and tie and is looking at me worriedly.

“Do you need help finding your table?”

“No, that’s okay,” I whisper, thankful for the slow, constant drone of the man up on the stage, who seems to be in the middle of reading a long slew of hockey stats. “I’m actually looking for someone—”

A different man walks up onto the stage with energy, thanking the speaker for his time and turning to the attendants.

I recognize him as a guy a little younger than me, who’s just retired.

Hosting the induction is a pretty cool gig for a guy like that, and he’s conducting himself with a personable, confident ease as he talks into the microphone.

“Alright, and as a little treat tonight, we have a slight change of plans. Rather than Sandra Montgomery giving a speech on behalf of August Montgomery, please welcome his daughter, Elsie!”

There’s a polite cheer, and from the back of the room comes a loud whoop! I glance in that direction to find her mother, along with a man her age, just barely lit in the dim light, his fingers in his mouth as he whistles loudly.

That must be her brother. August Montgomery is notably missing.

I snap my gaze back to the stage, where Elsie is walking out, the gentle tap of her heels a rhythmic, soothing sound. I can’t tear my eyes from her as she stands in a gilded dress, her hair twisted up on her head, a few loose tendrils curled gently around her face.

Quickly, I look between her and the table. Is she talking to her brother again? Or was she surprised to see him here?

Elsie begins her speech.

“Hi everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight, to help us celebrate all the inductees into the NHL Hall of Fame. It’s an honor to be here, and I’d like to thank my mother for letting me take her spot tonight.

She had a beautiful speech prepared tonight, but I have something I need to get off my chest.”

There’s no time to think about it. I can ask her later, after we’ve talked.

“Sir, I really should help you find your seat—”

“I need to get to the stage.”

“But, sir—”

“I’m part of the inducted class,” I say, glad that it’s true, because it’s the only thing that might actually get me close enough to talk to Elsie right now.

“Oh,” the man says, his eyebrows flying up. “Oh, okay, right this way.”

As we walk, Elsie stops to take a deep breath, then goes on, her voice ringing out, crystal clear, through the room with the help of the small microphone attached to the podium.

“Many of you are probably familiar with my brother,” she says, her eyes skipping to him in the crowd.

“He was set to go D-1 after high school graduation, until an accident knocked him off course. I was—if not responsible—involved in that accident. For a long time, I’ve let that fact overwhelm me with the weight of guilt. ”

The room is deathly quiet, and I’m grateful for the carpet that lines our path up to the stage, otherwise everyone might hear the sound of my shoes against the floor as we walk.

“And I let it push me away from pursuing the life I wanted for myself.” Elsie pauses, takes a deep breath.

“My father is not the kind of man who hold himself back.” A quick titter runs through the crowd.

“If you’ve ever seen him on the ice, you know that’s true.

There’s a reason we love sports so much, and that’s because of how well we can apply their tenants to real life.

Work hard, show up, be there for your teammates, and you’ll go far.

Have passion. Have tenacity. As nice and clean-cut as that is, it’s not always exactly true.

Just like in sports, there are ways in which real life goes off track. ”

I slip behind a curtain with the man leading me, and he stops to check a list with someone else. I can see Elsie, just feet from me, and my entire body urges me to go to her.

But I also don’t want her to stop talking.

Despite the weird distance between us the past couple of weeks, I know what she’s talking about. Her brother, her family, her choices to try and make herself the shape that everyone else wanted to see.

And more than that, our relationship. Taking what we want even when everyone around us tells us that it’s wrong. That we shouldn’t be together.

At first, the Squids used our relationship for positive PR. Then, when we were no longer useful to them, they wanted to discard us.

I want the chance to see what our relationship might look like if it’s just for us. Me and Elsie, and nobody else. No opinions about the difference in age, no judgments about how different we are as people.

“But here’s the thing about my dad—he never let hockey get in the way of our family.

And he never let our family get in the way of hockey.

My primary takeaway for you tonight is that you can have both.

You can have passion and love. Success and belonging.

All you have to do is give yourself the permission to go after it.

Today, I’m going after everything, just like my dad always did.

Dad—you deserve this honor and so much more.

I love you, and I’m so proud to be at your side for this moment. Thank you.”

With that, she nods her head and steps away from the podium, out from under the golden pool of light and into the darkness of the rest of the stage.

The room erupts in raucous cheers.