Page 15

By the next morning, I was ready to go. Excitement bubbled inside of me as the defenders, and I went through practice drills and stretching. Adrenaline spiked within my veins, almost as if I had a beast inside me ready to burst from my chest to dominate the game.

I felt like one of the guys out on the ice, not stuck behind the boards.

I was ten feet tall and bullet proof. Something I hadn’t experienced in the last six months.

Once I said goodbye to the boys after a quick cafeteria lunch at the sports complex, I headed over to my apartment in Nashville to pick up a suit.

The drive didn’t take long, but I’d be remiss if I hadn’t considered moving home permanently.

Although Nashville kept me away from Pope, obviously, since I found out he had a shop in Murfreesboro.

I’d done so well not to dwell on the kiss or what it meant or how angry even after all this time Pope was with me.

Twelve hours was like years in my over analyzing brain.

I just had to quit him cold turkey. Now, as I sat in my truck waiting for the light to turn green, the events played out all over again. So much for giving him up.

This is all so messed up.

As I stepped out of my apartment after grabbing everything I needed for another week, I decided to rent a little bachelor apartment in Murfreesboro until the AHL season ended. My contract was on a season-by-season basis, so I’d have to find a month-to-month rental agreement.

Of course, I could buy a house out by my parents, so I was closer to them.

I sighed. I had too much shit to deal with. Fuck it, I’d stick with an apartment for now, then consider my other options later. With that settled, I took the elevator to the garage decks and loaded up my truck.

I had a game to get ready for. There was no room for any outside distractions or decisions.

My focus needed to be on the team and the guys who depended on me to see them to the win.

So, on the way to the sports complex, I focused on the road and what I’d have to do to make sure the guys won their first game with me as their defensive coach.

Nothing else mattered.

There were two main positions a defender and a coach had to pay attention to while playing defense on the ice.

The wingers and forwards of the opposing team, and your goalie.

Especially if he needed help or there was some issue that came up during the game.

Like losing his stick. If I had Kodiak’s back, he’d have mine and his teammates.

Just a little weird being his coach, instead of against him.

“Nervous?” Pavel asked before warmups began. “It’s always hard coming back from an injury. More so when you’ve been away for months at a time, and you’re not actually getting on the ice.”

“It’s a good nervous,” I said with a forced chuckle, glancing at the roster in my hands.

Not to mention I couldn’t stop thinking about Pope, no matter how much I tried.

“Almost feels like the first time all over again,” I couldn’t implement my broader remaining season changes just yet.

Although, I could tweak what the guys did while I watched them, “and I have a plan. A good one. I’ve got you covered. Just give me time.”

He nodded. “A guy I know once said, we’re hockey players, we’re supposed to fall.” Pavel shoulder bumped me. “We’re only going up from here.”

I chuffed, then laughed for real. “Only you would remember what a cocky seventeen almost eighteen-year-old kid from the south had to say after playing in front of a world audience.” While trying to impress everyone at our table and with our opponents walking by.

“It was the truth.” He shrugged. “You showed me you were meant to be out there during the games. No one can ever dispute that. Just like your knuckle won’t buckle tonight while you’re coaching us.”

“Hey that rhymed.”

Pavel tapped me in the chest with the back of his glove. “I’ve got your back. You’ll have mine.”

Because it was my semi-return to the ice, Alexander let me lead the guys out for their warmups.

The roar of the crowd sounded like a packed stadium, not a couple thousand people.

Adrenaline spiked within me. I felt like I could fly.

My knee? Solid. My muscles? Tight. What I wouldn’t give to be back in my skates and on that ice.

The slaps against the plexiglass were music to my ears as they rang out.

I’d never been so grateful for the warm welcome or so damned humbled.

This was where I was meant to be.

I glanced up into the stands as I did a slow turn to wave at the fans in attendance, and spotted Lily-Mae, Rick, and the kids.

All of them wore Mountaineer sweaters and that hit me right in the feels.

I gave a little wave then went back to the tunnel.

Being out there right now wasn’t my job anymore.

Tonight, I metaphorically passed the torch to the team.

I’d still be out there, only my position had changed.

When the buzzer went off, I went with Alexander to the bench while the opening pomp and circumstance took place.

The night, from then on, was a blur.

I bided my time implementing my plan.

I didn’t rush Coach’s decision. We worked together to give Pavel the best chance to protect the goal. My moment came when the Kansas City Stingers went up by three and our forwards weren’t doing shit on the ice. We as a team needed to stymie the bleeding before the game got away from us for good.

Unlike baseball or football, hockey was a game of constant momentum.

Players were always on the ice charging back and forth until someone scored, there was a penalty, or a fight.

Chances happened every second with players.

Being in the right place at the right time could change the trajectory of the game.

“You see something, don’t you?” Coach said, patting me on the shoulder. “You’ve been eyeing up their forward.”

I had. There was always a lag between when a defenseman on his team passed the puck to him and when he gathered it up with his stick.

In those few seconds, a hole big enough Christopher could skate through, opened affording him the chance to steal the puck.

If he timed it just right, we’d be able to score, and get back in the game.

“I have an idea, but I need you to call time so we can give instructions.”

Alexander nodded and called time. The ref blew his whistle, and the guys gathered around the bench. “Listen up, Coach Thomas has a plan.”

I stepped forward. A new sensation filled my gut.

It was like my first game all over again only in a different capacity.

“Number five is slow. Whenever one of our shots is blocked, number thirty-three passes it to five. Christopher, if you time it right, you can steal the puck and pass it to our forwards so they can go for the shot.”

“Their goalie also loses focus,” Pavel said. “He’s so used to everyone else doing his work for him, if you come up on his left to shoot, he won’t react quick enough. I’ve noticed it all night.”

“Good,” I said. “Defense, exploit their weaknesses. Offense, use the ice to break them down and score.”

Alexander put his hand in the middle for our chant and on three we all said, defense.

Knots twisted my insides as I chewed on the corner of my thumbnail.

I was a control freak. I could admit it.

As much as I knew they had the skill to pull this off, they had to figure out the plays on their own.

I also had to trust they’d catch their rhythm when it mattered most. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from wanting to be out there to do it myself.

“This is always the hardest part, Coach,” Alexander said. “You have to have faith in your defensemen and their instincts to execute the play and make the goal.”

“Never gets easier, does it?” I asked, unable to look away.

“Nope,” Alexander answered. “Never does.”

Pavel tucked into the net, his gaze tracking the puck while the right defender tried to keep two of our opponents occupied.

I saw what the winger was about to do and motioned for Christopher to go for the puck, hoping he was close enough to block the shot or steal the pass outright.

Going down on one knee, he redirected the path, sending the puck into the woodwork, away from goal and into Richard’s skate.

He smacked it back toward center ice, and Roberts was headed for the goal, shooting the puck while their goalie was distracted.

“That’s the way,” I shouted as the buzzer sounded and a cheer went up around the arena. We’d cut their lead by one. “Do it again!”

When the final buzzer sounded, Christopher and Richard made seven blocks a piece while helping Pavel.

The midfield hadn’t done too shabby either, wrecking several passing lanes making sure to limit where the other team could skate and play.

The boys pinned their opponent’s ears and in the end, we won by one.

A dirty win was still a win in my book.

As the fans exited the area, I glanced up near where Lily-Mae had been sitting and startled, sure I’d seen a ghost. A man, the same build and height as Pope, stared down at me before storming toward the exit.

He came? No, it couldn’t be him. After our little interlude yesterday at Flame , I didn’t think I’d ever see Pope again.

Plus, with the lights still dim, I couldn’t see the guy’s face. There was no way.

It had to be my imagination, right?

Had I wanted to see him so bad; I pretend he was staring at me then walking away?

Even with the unsettled feelings still pinging around inside me?

Had I conjured him because I couldn’t stop thinking about him and each of his actions was just a whim of my subconscious? Seemed like something he’d do, though.

Walk away.

In the thirteen years I’d been part of the Thunderbirds team, I’d probably caught myself a handful of times, searching for Pope in the crowd, desperate to see him and show him how far I’d come since our days in the junior league.

Not that it mattered anymore.

I never saw him one time.

Pope left me behind.

“Thierry!” Lily-Mae said, waving at me, knocking me out of my darkening thoughts.

The kids trailed behind her along with Rick.

The beginnings of her cute pregnancy belly pushed against the sweater I’d given her years ago, and she had that glow about her.

She was adorable. Rick was a lucky man. I think I would’ve kicked his ass if he hadn’t married her.

A chorus of, “Uncle Thierry” drew my attention as the kids gathered around their mom.

My favorite niece and nephews. They each were the perfect combination of Lily-Mae and Rick. Heartbreakers.

All of them.

I went to the glass divide to say hi and talk to her about the game.

Mostly reassure her I was fine. A wiggle of excitement and something else scurried through my belly and twisted with regret and nostalgia as my gaze drifted back to where I’d thought I’d seen Pope.

If that had been him and he did come to see me, shouldn’t I try to find him?

Would he want me to find him after that little display yesterday?

Hell, I’d have taken him saying “go fuck yourself, Thierry,” better than kissing me and walking away like he had.

“Did you see who was here?” Lily-Mae teased. “Pope was here the whole time.”

Rick frowned. “Don’t go meddling, Lily-Mae.”

She waved him off. “He sat two rows up from us. Alone.”

Alone? Interesting. No. Stop it. He hate kissed you. We’re not interested. “Well, I hope he enjoyed the game.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Lily-Mae frowned.

“Yep. We’re not kids anymore and if he can’t at least say hi, that means there’s nothing left between us.” I shrugged, trying to act like what I’d said didn’t affect me, even as the hole where my heart once existed ached.

“Cut him some slack,” Rick said, his gaze tracking those leaving the sports center. “It’s been a long time.”

He was right. It had been and yesterday proved I had nothing to go back to. “Well, I’m glad you came. I hope you had a fun night out.”

Lily-Mae’s brows furrowed. “Now you hurt Thierry’s feelings.”

I chuckled softly and shook my head. “No. He said what needed to be said. I agree with his assessment. I’m being an as—butthead. No one else.”

“Well, at least Pope could have said hi,” Lily-Mae pouted.

Nah, that wasn’t Pope’s style.

Walking away was.