He spins on his heels, leaving me to my quest for his coach’s office.
I watch him walk away. A part of me is hopeful he’ll glance back at me, but he doesn’t. Which is good—it has to be good.
THIRTY-ONE
SUTTON
Their coach’soffice is the next hallway over. Coach Mathieson’s lights are on, the door already cracked open. I knock twice.
“Come in,” his deep voice calls out.
Everyone on the women’s team swoons over him. Deep, husky voice—the kind that has you squirming when listening to an audiobook and it gets spicy. Bright, brown eyes that I swear are magnets. Most fall for his smile, but I was always drawn to his eyes.
A thought starts to form, but I stop it before I find myself running back down these halls to another pair of bright, brown eyes.
“Sutton,” he greets me before I have the door fully open. “Have a seat.”
“How are you, Coach? Playoffs are looking good.”
“Best season we’ve had in years. Carmichael is at the top of his game. I’m assuming you are to thank for that.”
I shake my head no. I could never take credit for his ability. Cooper is talented, truly. “That’s all him.”
“His head is clearer. He’s skating like the kid I saw and recruited in high school.” He gives me a knowing head tilt,complete with a brow raise and sly grin. “He’s back to being the player he was born to be.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Coach’s mouth ticks up on one side, I think he knows what I’m about to ask. “How’d you know he’d be a good fit for this?”
“He reminded me of someone I knew.”
“You.” I’m stunned, struck with clarity. From the little knowledge I have about him, it makes sense.
“Me. Carmichael had too much potential to let it go.” My nose scrunches with curiosity, questions I want to ask when there’s more time. “However, that is not why you bravely entered my locker room or are stalling practice right now. Is it?”
“I’d like to do something with the whole team. How do you feel about cycling?”
The team is morereceptive and enthusiastic about skipping their lifting session to come with me to Elliot’s cycling audition than I anticipated.
I did, however, leave out that it is musical themed.
After Coach Mathieson agreed to let me steal them away for the hour, he walked me back to the locker room to inform them. The deal was that afterwards they had to do something as a team, whether it was dinner or playing video games or reading a book together, he didn’t care as long as it wasn’t hockey.
A sophomore left winger commented, “There is this cowboy romance I’ve been seeing all over social media, I’ve been wanting to read.”
“I’ll read it with you. Send me the link,” Jaxon replied. A couple of others chirped up, and I think they are starting a bookclub. “Girls love that shit. Even you could learn a position or two.” He patted Cooper’s chest.
I coughed, and everyone’s eyes turned on me—mine were only on Cooper—before grabbing their bags to follow me to the rec center.
Elliot almost peed herself when she saw us roll up.
I set myself up on a bike between Chase and Dawson. Cooper finds a bike in a different row despite the guys calling him over to us. The studio is set up in a blocky U pattern with Elliot in the middle on a square stage. Each of the three sides have rows. My favorite spot is on her right side, in the third row against the wall. Today, I’m in middle of the second row. He’s in the first row on Elliot’s left.
Elliot starts the camera setup in two corners of the room, then climbs onto her bike. The sound of her shoes clipping in is faint as she turns up the music and dims the lights.
She adjusts the laptop stand to her left and pulls on her mic. “Everyone ready?”
There’s a cheer from seventy percent of the room. The other thirty percent is a mixture of groans and mumblings ofwhat are we getting ourselves into.
Chase turns and gives me a high five. A giddy smile on his face, cheeks pink, and we haven’t even started cycling yet.
