Page 26

Holt

I wake to the soft glow of Maya’s dorm, my body heavy with the kind of rest I haven’t felt in months, maybe years. It’s quiet except for the Dakota’s soft and steady purr rumbling through the nest, a possessive call as he curls around Maya’s back. They’re all crowded around her, protecting her in a way I didn’t think was possible.

It takes entirely too long for the five of us to catch our bearings and get to the ice rink, Roman, surprisingly, the one still dragging. Maya’s bright-eyed, that little red notebook clutched to her chest as we stand behind the glass, players slowly filing in. There’s several whispers, fingers pointing, and a whole lot of general confusion that I hope a few minutes will clear up.

I clap my hands, drawing their focus to me. “Alright, guys, we’ve got some immediate changes and I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of different things, but here’s the truth—Mason’s been let go and I’ll be stepping into the head coach position for the time being.” I raise a hand, silencing them. “Ethan will also be sitting out this game due to an unfortunate incident,” I continue, my tone hardening, because I need them to hear this, to get it. “I’m aware there’s a billion different stories floating around, but here’s what I’m gonna say—there’s absolutely no tolerance for treating other players or staff with anything less than kindness and respect. Everyone here has earned their place and there’s no excuse for backhanded comments. If I, or anyone else, hear something, it’ll be brought to the administration, no questions.”

There’s a general murmur of agreement, nods from each one of them where I thought there would be a joke or two. It settles me, knowing they’re listening, that this team can be what Maya deserves, what we all need. “I also wanna reiterate that during practice, we have this space reserved. That means if they’re not part of this team—the faces you see here, right now—you don’t let them in the building. If they have access, they can use their key card. Does that make sense?”

The last part of this announcement is the most difficult because it’s more personal but I can’t avoid it. “One last thing. Dakota and Roman have had some health changes in the last few days, strangely enough, late-presenting. I’m required to report it, but it’s not like you couldn’t smell the difference.”

Laughter erupts through the team, breaking the tension. Riley pipes up, leaning on his stick, “Yeah, I was kinda wondering what was going on.”

A rookie, Jenkins, grins, scratching his head. “Does this mean Roman has a knot now?”

They all burst out laughing as Dakota throws in, ‘Yeah, he does’. Tanner adds, “we’re all gonna smell like we’ve got perfume on.” He sniffs the air, and then makes an exaggerated gagging gesture, the team laughing harder.

“I don’t hate it,” Riley adds. “Smells nice.”

I’m glad that wasn’t more difficult, all of them taking it in stride. I’ll still have to deal with Ethan at some point but at least practice won’t be strenuous. “And that’s when all of you set up cones for the drills,” I say, clapping my hands. They scatter, prepping the rink with cones, each of them grabbing their sticks and helmets.

Turning to Maya, I watch her flip through a few of the plays in her book before excitedly pointing to one of them. She starts gesturing, drawing imaginary lines in the air so that I can follow along. “If we pull Riley back here, and swing Tanner wide, it’ll force their defense to spread thin, and Jenkins can cut through for the shot.”

“Gorgeous, we’re not doing that. Their goalie’s too quick for it.”

She purses her lips playfully but I can see that she’s logged onto something I haven’t picked up. “Riley’s got the best wrist shot,” she insists, “so he’s gotta be central. Tanner’s speed is unreal—put him on the wing, let him burn past their D. Jenkins needs space to snipe, so we keep him roving.”

She sees the game so differently than I do, picking up pieces I haven’t been able to as a one man show. I can’t even blame it on the fact that I’ve had to carry more than just being their coach. No, Maya is a natural. I grin down at her, the resulting smile on her face telling me how she enjoys the silent praise. “Let’s try one or two and you take the lead.” Her eyes widen in shock even if her entire face lights up at the opportunity.

“You’re the head coach, though.”

“In name only,” I say, nudging her forward. “You’ve got this.”

She steps up, calling the team, and we run her plays. They catch on damn quick, each of the guys pumped in a way I haven’t seen them over the last few games. The passes are crisp, everyone playing at this higher level that I can only attribute to Maya’s presence, and the whoops after a clean goal—the energy is infectious. I pull the brand new whistle from my pocket and dangle it in front of her, proud of a woman I get to call mine. “Let’s go, coach.”

It takes her a minute to grab it but she falls right in step with everything else she does, the team skating over in response. “I can’t wait to see what happens tonight,” she states, “because it’s the first game I’ve been to in four years, since… everything.” Her words catch, a flicker of pain but she pushes through and the team roars, high-fiving her, stomping off to the showers.

I turn to her, my hand brushing her arm. “You’re gonna be amazing out there.”

“I sure hope so. The dean made it sound like he’s waiting for me to bring back the happiness of the school.”

“Well, I can with a degree of certainty say that you’ve already started doing that. They’re more pumped than I’ve seen them in weeks. Now, I think a certain Alpha wanted to take you on a bit of a little date.” Her brow furrows and I chuckle, nodding toward the tunnel. “Roman wants to be sweet. He’s trying.”

Her frown melts into a smile. “I think it’s cute,” she says, and right on cue, Roman pops up, his grin wide as he throws out his hand. There’s no way that fucker took a full shower but I’m not going to ruin his moment.

“Come on, I’m taking you on a date. More of a little walk through the quad, but that counts, right?”

“None of them have taken me on a date.” She glances at me, her words edged with teasing.

“Hey, I wanted to take you out to dinner, but you were the one that kept kissing.”

She sticks her tongue out as Roman steals her away, leaving me looking out onto the ice, its gleam pulling me back to the rush of the game, the crowd’s roar. The doctor said I’d never play competitively again, not after the knee injury, but I could skate. I haven’t though, for some reason. It’s like I lost my spark when the game was ripped away from me. But now, watching the way Maya is opening herself to the team, to us, I’m finding it again, that pull to step back onto the ice, even just to glide, to feel the cold beneath my blades, to remember who I was, who I’m becoming.

The memories fade as I step into the main hallway, Brogan and Dakota approaching me. Both of their expressions are pulled tight, although Brogan seems just a tad bit more pissed.

“What’s going on?” My first thought is Maya but I know for a fact that I’d feel something.

Brogan leans against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. “Roman and I found some things last night about Nox. He’s got some pretty big debts after dealing in fake art. Probably thought it was a way to get fast cash, but the investors want their money back, and the only money he’s got is wrapped up in a trust. Or at least that’s all the pieces Roman could put together.”

I’m wondering if Roman’s little date was specifically timed so that Maya wasn’t present for this conversation. However, something in Brogan’s expression tells me that there’s more. “What else?” I move a little closer to Dakota, seeing that he needs my touch in a way he didn’t before. I slip my hand to rest against his back, Dakota immediately folding into it, his body sagging with relief.

Brogan shakes his head, frustration clear on his face. “Other than the threats he said to Maya, we don’t know shit about the trust or anything else about him.”

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything yesterday? Or this morning?”

Dakota cuts in, a little growl tearing from his throat as if warning me to calm down. That’s new. “Maya’s dealing with enough bullshit and she didn’t need more stress.”

“Roman reached out to his brother, ‘cause they’re art collectors or some shit,” Brogan adds, “and the police have been alerted. Honestly, I think if we don’t get a protective order, he’s not gonna stop.”

Dakota’s frown deepens, eyes narrowing at Brogan but the anger isn’t directed at him. “Do you actually think he’s gonna forcefully bite her or something?” he asks, and my stomach lurches, because—fuck, yeah, I do.

I drag a hand down my face, exhaling hard. “Fuck, yeah. He chased her through the goddamn hall, Dakota. There’s no telling what a man like that’ll do to save his ass.” She’s not going to like the fact that she’s still not free of his bullshit but it’s better that she knows and it doesn’t creep up on her. “I’ll mention it to her and we’ll go from there. Yes, I want her protected, but I don’t wanna put a target on her back either.” Trying to shift gears, I change the topic. “Where’d Roman take her?”

Dakota grins, his eyes lighting up, mischief cutting through the tension. “He took her to get a coach jacket. Said she needed to represent.”

“I think I might have to talk to him about what a date entails,” I say, teasing, because a jacket’s cute, but Maya deserves more—dinner, lights, maybe even dancing.

Brogan laughs, low and warm, his green eyes glinting. “Nah, he wanted to talk to her alone. I think he’s feeling a bit lost with all the changes. It’s easier with Dakota. However, I do think that Roman found one of the old coach jacket’s… her father’s I believe.”

In that case, it’s going to be a very good date. Bringing back a piece of her father? He’s definitely getting brownie points for that and he deserves it.