“You seem to know her on a personal level,” Marilyn observes. “I don’t suppose you’d like to call her since you know her?”
“I very much doubt she wants to speak to me,” I say. “I think the logistics of this may be over your head, Marilyn.”
The best way to get under this woman’s skin is to tell her to drop it because it’s too hard. Her cheeks flush with anger and her shoulders pull back.
“I’m going to find a way to make this happen,” she growls at me. “I need to review the game schedule to see if any of the locations are close to each other. Then, I’m going to message the team’s social media handles to see if I can get her to reply there.”
“So we’re stooping to stalking,” I observe. “Why didn’t I think about that?”
My hand rubs my chest. I’ve been having pains since I saw Caelia. It’s as if my body is showing its unhappiness that we’re not near each other. Despite not expecting to find my scent match, I received the same education about it that most alphas do.
I still can’t believe fate decided to do this to us.
“Are you suffering from indigestion?” Marilyn asks.
“No,” I reply. “Just wondering why fate is such a bitch is all.”
“Oh I don’t know,” she says sagely. “I think she’s pretty smart. There’s reason for her madness. Are you interested in this girl too? I have to say, I love a good age gap.”
Snorting, I shake my head at her. “Scent matching doesn’t give a flying fuck about age.”
Shit. My filter is officially broken after having answered thirty emails today. My brain is melting. Groaning, I rub my face, deciding that’s enough screen time for me. I’m going for a run in the gym before I’m due for practice.
Standing, I ignore Marilyn’s gobsmacked face. She isn’t often surprised.
“If that’s all…” I drawl. I have lived in Tennessee long enough to pick up my southern accent again. No amount of skating in Midwestern cities has completely eradicated an accent I grew up with, and it gets thicker when I drink or I’m done with a conversation.
“I’m going to get that girl to reply to my messages,” she says, standing. “Just you watch.”
I wait until she’s gone before I begin to smile slowly.That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.
There’s no one who loves love more than Marilyn Mansfield. I’m counting on that.
Three days later
All I’ve been able to think about is when I’ll get to see Caelia again, which means I’ve been manifesting a chance encounter. However, as a coach and ex-hockey player, I know that you have to work for what you want.
“Why are we going out to a bar with the team tonight?” Levon complains.
We’re in Shreveport and staying the night in a hotel before heading out in the morning to Atlanta. We have our next game there, and I found out that the Dragons also have a hockey game nearby. I need to establish a new routine so no one will blink an eye when we go out for “team bonding.”
One of our techs on the team is friends with one of the Dragons’ new interns. I overheard him talking the other day, and pumped him for information. I plan to take the team to the same bar where they’ll be hanging out after the game tomorrow night, which means I need to curate a culture where my team actually spends time together.
Even when they whine.
“We won tonight, and we are celebrating that,” I say mildly. “I’ve decided that while you all work well together about half the time you’re on the ice, it’s not enough and you know it.”
“We need you to anticipate each other’s next moves,” Ares, my assistant coach, adds lazily. “It’s all well and good to be able to knock each other about, but trust needs to be built.”
“I trust my teammates, can I go to bed now?” Malcolm yells out.
We’re on the bus pulling into the bar, and I roll my eyes.
“Give it an hour, and then we’ll all head to the hotel to get some shuteye,” I call out. “Please don’t get caught with your pants down in a bathroom stall.”
“The keyword there is ‘caught’, gentlemen,” Levon chuckles as we park.
Rolling my eyes, I nod. “Your assistant coaches have condoms in their pockets, please utilize them,” I say, enjoying the catcalls and groans around the bus.
