“Elyse was mortified.”
“More like the commish was mortified,” Wolf says.
Hammer tilts his head at ashut upand quit while you’re aheadangle. “Connor.” All he needs to do is use Wolf’s given name to quiet him down.
Wolf steps back and clasps his right hand over his left, standing at respectful attention. Coach Hammer is the only one who seems slightly capable of taming the wild in him.
“I need you to understand what is appropriate and what goes over the line,” Hammer says.
Chase nods like the good little choir boy he is.
“Filling someone’s car with balloons? Harmless. Coating the inside of a locker with molasses? Amusing. Stealing all the toilet paper rolls and removing them from the building? Inconvenient and unnecessary.” Hammer winces. “But mooning the commissioner, his daughter, our newest player, and a bunch of officials?”
“Hilarious,” Wolf says loud enough so only we can hear.
“Boys, there are consequences.”
“A fine?” Wolf asks, reaching for his wallet even though it would get docked from his pay. “I’ll pay for it. Whatever the amount.”
Hammer shakes his head.
“Penalty?” I ask.
“Community service?” Chase suggests.
This time, I elbow him because I don’t want him to give the coach any bright ideas.
Grey remains quiet, as though he knows the punishment will be worse.
“No, none of the above. You’re going to finishing school,” Hammer says.
All at once, there is a flurry of questions and confusion, namely that it’s a joke. One of the guys barks a laugh.
“I think Coach is saying that he has to make an example of us,” Grey says.
“Not me. This is coming directly from the commissioner.” Hammer plops into his seat and then tosses a newspaper down on the desk between us so we can read the headline.
Full moon over Boston.
“Catchy and fitting.” I chuckle.
Wolf joins me. Chase cracks a smile. Grey is as stony as ever.
Hammer stabs the paper with his thick finger. “You guys are terrible with the press.”
I frown. “They say any kind of press is good press.”
“The problem is we’re lacking in actual good press lately. You’re all cocky. Not at all humble.” A mite of disappointment enters Hammer’s voice.
“Oh, come on, it’s all hype,” Chase says.
“The fans love to see us getting rowdy,” I add.
“That’s a load of malarky,” Coach mutters. “They love the Bruisers because you’re the toughest team on the field, but you also have heart. Do good. Do the right thing—when I started, seventy-five percent of the guys on the team were married. Family men. Now...”
“We’re the Bruisers. We have a reputation to uphold,” Wolf says, gesturing to Grey, who has been on the team the longest. “Tell him.”
The coach’s lip slants in an I-don’t-want-to-hear-it snarl. “Starky wants you to clean up, learn some manners, and prove that you’re well-behaved gentlemen.”
