Sullivan and Remy chuckled, easing some of the tension in the room. But my gaze went to Griff, who still wore that disappointed expression. Disappointing him felt like letting down my own father.
Teddy turned to Griff, pressing his hands together in front of him, like he was praying for mercy. “Coach, you can yell at me all you want. Spank me, paddle me, whatever you need.” He dropped to his knees, looking up with mock seriousness. “Just don’t touch the face. I’ve played hockey all these years without breaking my nose, and I’d really love to keep holding that over Ryder’s head.”
One corner of Griff’s lips twitched, just for a second, but it disappeared so quickly I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Get the fuck up.”
Teddy scrambled to his feet, raising one hand in a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”
Griff jabbed a thumb in his direction. “This guy, Frankie? Really?”
It was his way of letting go, of coming to terms with the situation. There were no threats of firings or other consequences. And in that moment, I realized just how lucky I was. I blinked back the tears that had gathered, taking in the strange little family I’d found myself in.
Teddy smirked, leaning in slightly. “Coach, it really looks like Coach wants to hug you.”
Sullivan put a hand on his arm, shaking his head, but Teddy shrugged him off. “Go on, Frankie. I’ll bet Griff is just a big old teddy bear—no pun intended. Just wrap your arms around him and squeeze. That’s called a hug. Sometimes, it happens in happiness, other times in relief. We’ll call it relief this time.”
“Fuck’s sake,” Griff muttered under his breath. He turned and walked out, taking the other coaches with him, leaving only me, Teddy, and Mr. Mac in the room.
Mr. Mac pushed himself up from the couch with a slow grunt. “Walk me out, Teddy. Then, you better head to practice.”
Feeling suddenly dismissed, I gathered up the mugs and brought them to the sink. I’d just finished loading them into the dishwasher when I heard Teddy moving around the living room again. He was circling the coffee table, looking down at it with an exaggerated sense of importance.
“Does nobody appreciate art?” he asked, his voice playful.
“What?” I asked, still feeling shaky from everything that had happened this morning. And now, with my name plastered all over social media, I could only imagine the things people were saying about me.
Teddy pointed to a coffee ring left on the puzzle. “No respect.”
“Teddy, it’s a puzzle. I’m just going to put it back in the box and never look at it again.”
He crossed his arms, giving me a disapproving look. “It won’t stay here?”
“No, why would you think that?” I asked, but his disappointment was so palpable I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his waist from the side.
“This is going to be okay, right?” I murmured, my voice small despite the confidence I was trying to project.
“I guess so.” He sighed. “Like you said, it’s just a puzzle.”
I pinched him lightly, and he smirked down at me, clearly enjoying the moment. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
His lips brushed the top of my head as he pulled me closer. “Yeah, Coach. Everything will be okay.”
I wanted to believe him. I really did.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
TEDDY
"Pick it up, Valentine," Frankie yelled, skating toward me as I rounded another cone during drills. Some might think I'm twisted, but I thrived on her intensity. I loved… her.
Nearly falling flat, I gripped the wall as she neared and straightened to my full height. "I'm trying, Coach," I insisted, frustrated by my lagging knee.
Before, I could power through the pain, but today it worsened.
"Trying?" Frankie sighed, pushing her braid aside. The team had stopped, watching us, but my focus remained on her.
“Yeah. It’s not like I’m out here being slow as all fuck just because it’s fun.”
Where was Griff? He'd usually give me a gruff lecture in his office. But he was out sick today, leaving Frankie to run practice. Even Sullivan and Remy were watching, as always.
