Why does he keep talking and making this worse?
Coach arches an eyebrow at him, and anger is written all over his face.
“Is your intent to just miss games, be her scent match, and not bond her? Because if that’s the case, we have a bigger fucking problem.”
I’m more than used to Coach cursing, but even for him, this conversation has had a lot of fucks.
“I fully intend on bonding with Sloane,” I interrupt and glare at Connery.
Yeah, fuck you, buddy, we’ve already talked about it.
“It’s not that I don’t want to bond with her, it’s just there hasn’t been any time to discuss it on my end,” Max snaps back.
“Right, because she didn’t choose you, did she?” I reply.
“For the love of God. You two need to figure your shit out on the ice and back at home. Sloane is my daughter, and I love her more than anything, but I won’t risk the team’s chances of goingto the playoffs because you two are in a pissing contest. And when it comes to my daughter, I’m not going to stand by and watch you two rip her spirit apart. Sloane has a big heart and will put her feelings aside to make you two happy. If you truly care about her, you won’t put her in that position.”
He’s right; I know he’s right.
I glance over at Connery, and he does the same to me.
“We’ll talk to Sloane.”
“And your agents,” Coach snaps.
“Yes, sir,” we reply in unison.
Coach nods his head, a clear dismissal as we both stand up and make our way to leave his office. He clears his throat.
“And, gentlemen? You hurt my daughter and I’ll ensure you never play professional hockey again,” he says, spinning his chair and likely plotting the different ways he could kill the both of us.
“Pack contract?” Connery asks.
I sigh and try to not get irritated with him.
“It’s what Martel and Beckford have. It would tie our incomes and our trading possibilities together. Wherever you go, I go,” I say, the idea churning in my stomach.
“So if the Foxes dropped us?” he asks.
“We’d have to be picked up as a duo by another team.”
I hate the idea of tying myself to Connery, not only for Sloane, but also my career. I’m sure I can work on not holding this grudge, but I don’t know if I’ll ever truly like the man. But the fact is, there aren’t a lot of goalie slots, and my career would be completely correlated to his.
“I mean, Coach wouldn’t drop us over this?” he says, the same thoughts catching up with him.
“We can only hope his love for Sloane and wanting to keep her close outweighs his anger with us,” I say.
My own words hit me hard in the chest.
Because my love for Sloane outweighs the stupid, bitter anger I’ve held against Max all these years. I’m letting my feud with him go, but sharing my Omega with another Alpha is a completely different story.
I guess it’s time to start maturing.
“Should we head back to Sloane’s?” Max asks.
I roll my eyes and walk away.
How did I ever have a crush on this fucking moron?
